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Mrs. Walden didn’t even ask who’d recommended her.
After all these years, hearing Mrs. Walden’s voice sent a chill through Rose’s spine. It made her feel twenty-one again and fresh-faced from Mississippi, hopeful for a future she didn’t know how to build.
It didn’t surprise her that Mrs. Walden didn’t recognize her voice in return. Probably, Mrs. Walden hadn’t thought about her at all in years.
But why does she have my sculpture? Did Oren give it to her? Did Oren himself sneak into the house?
Questions spun in her mind.
Rose felt outside of her body as she secured a time to paint Mrs. Walden’s portrait for August 25th, just five days before the party where her sculpture was set to be auctioned off.
“I’m looking forward to meeting you,” Mrs. Walden sang over the phone. “I’ve always wanted to sit for my portrait. It’s finally time.”
Rose called Sean back and explained when she was needed in Manhattan. “But I told her we’d meet in my studio,” she said after a dramatic pause. “Which means I need to head to the city immediately and rent one!”
Sean laughed. “You’re a regular con artist.”
“I grew up thinking these rich folks could walk all over me if they wanted to,” Rose said softly, tugging at her hair. “I’ll never be one of them. Not really. But I’m going to march in there and prove myself to them. I’m going to march out with my sculpture.”
“If only you could carry it,” Sean said with a soft laugh.
“It makes things difficult,” Rose agreed. “But we’ll manage it.”
“We will.”
The Salt Sisters were not pleased with Rose’s plan. They begged her to be careful; they begged her not to go.
Hilary called as they drove to the ferry and opened the conversation with, “Just send Sean! He’ll arrest them!”
“They’re too wealthy,” Rose explained. “They’ll slip through my fingers. An alias allows me to see them for who they really are without giving myself away. And I need to figure out what really happened with Natalie. If I get deep enough, maybe I can get someone to confess something. I don’t know.”
“Just be careful,” Hilary begged. “We want you back home as soon as possible.”
Rose and Sean drove to Manhattan, stopping frequently for cups of coffee or little snacks from the gas station. The air sizzled with their anxious energy. It was hard to believe Sean had agreed to come with Rose already—a full week before the event where her sculpture was set to be auctioned off. But Sean insistedit was all a part of the investigation. He’d even cleared it with his boss at the station.
Sean parked his car and hauled their suitcases upstairs to the hotel they’d rented for the week. It was just three blocks away from the studio Rose hoped would be hers for the portrait and just five blocks from where Mr. and Mrs. Walden would host their party the following Friday.
Rose and Sean had rented separate hotel rooms. The receptionist gave them a curious smile as though she wanted to ask them what their story was. Weren’t they a couple?But of course, that was just Rose projecting.
It was only three thirty. Rose had an appointment with the true owner of the art studio at five, which gave her and Sean a bit of time to relax in their separate rooms. Rose collapsed on the cloud-like bed and spread her arms and legs out as far as they could go. The air-conditioning was on high, and she felt chilly after sweating during the walk from the car. The August humidity was killer in the city. It was the reason so many people left during August. But she knew the Waldens were having this party at the end of August as a way to welcome so many people back for the beginning of autumn. School was set to begin. Real life plodded ahead.
The studio was exactly what Rose had envisioned for her “trap.” The ceilings were fifteen feet tall with windows that nearly stretched all the way from top to bottom, and there were easels and primed canvases everywhere. Paint was flung into all corners, and paintings she could pretend were hers hung at strange angles. She’d already primed a canvas for her portrait of Mrs. Walden. She set that up on an easel, then positioned her paints andbrushes on the table beside it. She was so immersed in her vision that she almost forgot Sean was still with her.
When she turned back, she found him smiling softly and watching her.
“Oh! I’m sorry,” she said. “I got carried away.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Sean said. “I’ve just never seen you at work before.”
“By contrast, I always see you when you’re working,” she said.
It was the nature of their relationship, after all. She’d called. He’d come to help.
“I want to take tonight off,” Sean admitted, palming the back of his neck. “What do you think about that?”
Rose raised her chin. A flush ran through her.This is his way of asking me out.
She knew it in her bones. She knew it as clearly as she knew Oren had something to do with her stolen sculpture.
