Page 106 of Over Her Dead Body

“We have different definitions of assistance.”

Her gaze moves between us. The assistant resumes typing.

“Perhaps two opinions will be useful,” Marta says.

She begins with the paintings nearest the doors.

The collection is real. It is also substantial enough to justify the secrecy surrounding it. Marta gives me what history she has while I study the works without touching them. I ask questions. Her assistant records them.

Reid stays several feet behind me as we move through the gallery. He does not offer an opinion or approach the paintings. If Marta finds this unusual behavior for my alleged colleague, she does not say so.

At the far end of the gallery, several paintings rest beneath protective cloths. A handler begins uncovering them one by one.

I barely register the first two.

The third stops me before the cloth reaches the floor.

A woman stands at a window in a dark blue dress, one hand resting against the glass.

For a moment, the gallery disappears.

I am twenty-four again, standing beside a cabinet of expensive whiskey while a man old enough to know better places his hand against my back.

Reid is across the room, watching.

Marta says something I do not hear.

I move closer.

The composition is identical. So are the dimensions, the narrow gilt frame, and the faint darkening in the upper-left corner where the varnish has aged unevenly.

Copies exist. Artist replicas exist. Later versions, workshop versions, and very good imitations exist.

Memory is not authentication.

Near the bottom, partly hidden beneath the frame, a repaired tear curves through the folds of the woman’s skirt.

Eleven years ago, I thought it resembled a question mark.

It still does.

This is not a painting like the one at the house on Lake Austin.

It is the painting.

“When did the family acquire this?”

Marta looks toward the painting. “I would need to consult the records.”

“Please do.”

“Is there a concern?”

“I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding, but I was under the impression this work was still with a collection our house represents.” I look at it again. “Would you mind giving me a moment? I need to check a few things.”

I turn toward Reid.

He is already watching me.