Ian

take a rocket scientist to know who had it. She must have been here before he returned home from work. He tugged on a pair of Nikes, tucked his badge in the back pocket of his jeans, then raced downstairs.

If Marisol had any thought to switch those paintings tonight, then it might already be too late. He jumped into his car and threw it in gear, backing down the driveway and swinging the Mustang out into the street.

A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of Gallerie Luna. Marisol’s car was parked out front, but she wasn’t answering the buzzer. For a brief moment, he felt a prickle of panic, then decided that there was no need to jump to conclusions. Maybe she’d gone for a walk, maybe she was waiting for him at his house right now.

He tried the buzzer once more, then returned to his car, double-parked in front of the gallery. He’d just take a drive over to Newport and check in with the Templetons. And if she wasn’t there, he’d put out an APB on her and have the rest of the Bonnett Harbor police force helping in the search.

As he sped across the Newport Bridge, his thoughts returned to the meeting in Declan’s office. Though he didn’t want to believe the worst in Marisol, there was a tiny voice that told him she could be lying about the painting. For all he knew, she was aware that the painting in her possession was a fake and her intention all along was to steal the real painting. Hell, she could be working with David Barnett on this scheme.

The gates to the Templeton mansion were open when he approached on Ruggles Avenue. He parked on the circular drive and turned off the car. But as soon as the engine stopped, he heard a loud siren sounding from inside the house. “The burglar alarm,” he murmured. Maybe he was too late?

He grabbed his badge from his pocket, then jogged up to the front door. Ian rang the bell once, then opened the door. Cheryl Templeton stood in the foyer, her hands pressed to her ears as he held out his badge.

“Oh, thank God you’re here. I can’t remember the code to the system. The security company is on the phone and they won’t switch off the alarm until I give them the code.” She held out the phone. “You talk to them.”

“Where is your husband?”

“He’s out of town on business,” she said. “Please, tell them they can turn off the alarm. Why aren’t you wearing your uniform?”

“I’m undercover,” Ian said. She seemed to accept the answer, to Ian’s relief. “Is there anyone else in the house?”

“Yes. Sascha Duroy is here and Marisol Arantes. Marisol was in the library and I’m not sure where Sascha is.”

“Let me check around first,” he said, taking the phone from her hand. “Why don’t you wait out front, just for your own safety. When I find the other two ladies, I’ll send them out. And once the house is clear, I’ll tell the security company to turn off the alarm.”

“Tell them the power went off and that’s what set off the alarm. There aren’t any burglars.”

Ian waited until Cheryl Templeton was outside, then tried the library door, but found it locked. Cursing, he rapped sharply. “Marisol!” He knocked again. “Marisol, let me in.”

A moment later, the door swung open. She reached out and grabbed him, then dragged him inside. “What are you doing here?”

“The question is, what are you doing here?”

“I don’t have time for this,” she muttered. “Did anyone see you come in? How did you get in the house? Where is Mrs. Templeton?”

“Mrs. Templeton let me in. She’s under the impression I’m responding to their security alert. I don’t think she realized I’m not the Newport police.”

Marisol hurried back to the painting on the wall, grasping the frame as she tried to lift it off the hook. “You could give me a hand here. I don’t have much time. Did you lock the door behind you?”

Ian grabbed his handcuffs and snapped one side on her left wrist, then reached across and caught her right. She didn’t realize what he was doing until she couldn’t move her arms.

“This is no time for games!” she cried above the alarm “Take these things off me.”

“Not until you look me in the eye and tell me what you’re really doing here. I know the truth, Marisol.”

“Of course you do. I told you.”

He grabbed her hands and forced her to face him, looking deeply into her eyes, watching the emotions play across her expression. She looked frightened and frantic. “The painting on the wall is the real one,” he said.

Her eyes went wide and she gasped. In that moment, Ian knew she had no knowledge of what was really going on. “But it can’t be. How do you know?”

“I took the one hidden under my bed to an expert this morning. He verified it was a forgery. He knew Emory Colter. He was sure, Marisol. You were going to replace the real painting with the fake.”

She fell back in the chair as the revelation sank in. “And then I was going to give David the fake. But it would have been the real painting. And I would have never known.” She paused. “Why did you handcuff me?”

“Because I wasn’t sure whether you knew or not.”

“Of course I didn’t know. How could you think-” She paused, anger flashing in her eyes. “Get me out of these.”

He unlocked the cuffs. “Straighten things up in here. I’m going to get the alarm switched off. Where is Sascha?”

“In the bathroom. Blowing out the electricity.”

“Can you do this?”

Marisol nodded. “Just go.”

Ian turned for the door, holding the phone up to his ear. “This is Police Captain Ian Quinn from the Bonnett Harbor Police Department. I’m a guest here at Mrs. Templeton’s. My badge number is 743. I’m checking the house now.”

He made a cursory search of the mansion, knowing there weren’t any burglars. He found Sascha standing outside the powder room beneath the stairs, water dripping from her oversize handbag. “I think you better go out front and wait for me.”

She nodded, then brushed by him, avoiding his gaze. He walked through the first floor of the house, then peeked back inside the library. Marisol was standing next to the fireplace, her painting propped up against the mahogany desk.

“All set?”

Marisol nodded, joining him at the library door. “Thank you,” she murmured.

He took her hand and led her outside. “The house is clear,” Ian said into the phone. A few moments later, the alarm switched off, leaving Ian with ringing ears.

“Oh, thank you,” Mrs. Templeton said. “I’m so glad you came.” She frowned. “How did you get here so quickly? The alarm just went off a few seconds before you arrived.”

“I actually came to help Marisol,” he said. “But I got delayed. I understand she has a gift for you.”

Cheryl Templeton clapped her hands. “Yes. I can hardly wait. Can we see it?”

“Maybe we should get the power turned on first?” Ian suggested.

“Oh, I put the gardener on that task.” She grabbed Sascha by the arm, then caught Marisol’s hand. “Are we ready? Can I see it now? Come along, let’s go.”

Ian followed the trio back inside the house and waited at the library door. Cheryl Templeton covered her eyes as Sascha led her inside and Marisol stood next to her painting. She nodded at Ian and he quickly moved to the crate, grabbing it and taking it out the door while Mrs. Templeton still had her eyes covered.

“Are you ready?” Marisol asked as Ian closed the door behind him.

He carried the crate to Sascha’s car and slid it into the back. As he slammed the hatch, Ian sighed, satisfied that he’d done all he could to keep Marisol and her father out of jail-for now. But there was still one wild card in this whole mess and that was David Barnett.

Barnett was short a painting and as long as he believed Marisol had the Colter, he wouldn’t leave her alone. Since Ian didn’t have a reason to arrest him, something else had to be done. But what?

Ian glanced up as Marisol and Sascha hurried out of the house, offering their apologies for such a hasty exit. Cheryl Templeton followed after them, imploring everyone to stay for dinner. But to Ian’s relief, the invitation was graciously refused.

Sascha got into the Volvo and Marisol grabbed for the passenger’s door, but Ian took her elbow and steered her toward the Mustang. “You’re coming with me,” he said.

“I-I should go with Sascha. She has the painting.”