Drawn to Death by Patti Larsen

Author:Patti Larsen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Patti Larsen Books

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Chapter Thirteen

I hesitated, I admit it. There was no line of sight with Dark’s truck, so I couldn’t even signal my friends about what I was witnessing. Instead, I held still and watched as Marco moved aside stacked paintings before tugging free a long, black tube.

The kind of carrying case one would use to transport an unmounted canvas.

He took a moment to pop the top off and slide the painting out, though it was quickly apparent there was more than just one canvas tucked away inside. In fact, I saw enough of the surface painting to identify it as one of Lydia Dows. But it was the corner of the one beneath, the flash of color I remembered from a painting I’d seen just last night, in fact, in the memory Brielle had broadcasted, that I was now uncomfortable enough to guess the truth.

Lydia had stolen the work because that was Over The Moon Marcos was so excited to find hidden in the case.

The expression on his face as he jumped down out of the back of the van appeared about the equivalent of the proverbial cat in the cream, which meant not only did he know what he’d been looking for, he had drawn his own assumptions as to who had taken it, since he so easily and adeptly liberated it from the possession of the person who had stored it in the van in the first place.

Namely, Lydia Dow.

Clever to roll it beneath one of her own since the trick would hide the truth from casual inspection. When she’d done it, I wasn’t sure. I’d been in the hallway watching her, after all, last night, prior to Genesis’s death. But wait, I’d gone looking for Naomi. It had only been five minutes. Would that have given her enough leeway to liberate the canvas? She had to have taken it between the time I went hunting the gallery owner and my return to lurk and watch the cycle of people who invaded the murder scene.

But she’d left the studio last night without the art. How had she gotten her hands on it? Unless she killed Genesis, unmounted the painting and hid it in the tube, returning today to secure it more completely. I frowned at the timing, however, knowing how long it took to remove a canvas from a frame.

Unless.

I needed a look at the crime scene to be sure, but if she’d chosen to cut it (gasp!) free, it wouldn’t have taken much time at all, would it? And hadn’t I seen a number of discarded frames with remnants of canvas from just such an act? Five minutes would have been lots of time for a slash and grab, the discarded frame left with others of its kind as a distraction.

There wasn’t much I could do about Genesis’s loss, but there was something I could wrangle about their art. So, as Marco turned to circle the van and hurry off with the tube under his arm, I reached out with my magic and an aggression I wasn’t expecting and gave him a healthy dose of bad luck.

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