“Was it something I said?” Shelly asked with an innocent grin.
“Not funny.” Not. At. All.
Cradling her coffee, Shelly leaned forward over the counter. “I mean, how do you know when a relationship is right? How did you know with Jeremy?”
“Let’s leave Jeremy out of this.”
“Right.” Shelly tapped on her cup. “We can ask Mom or Honey. They seem to have gotten it right.” Shelly clutched Ivy’s arm. “Honey! She and Gabe are flying in tonight. I wonder what she’s wearing to Mom’s big bash?”
Ivy dropped her face into her hands. “I have to go shopping.”
“You don’t have anything to wear yet?”
Ivy shook her head. “What with a house to clean and paint, a secret room, a hundred stolen paintings, and the FBI descending upon us, who had time?”
“Wow. That’s a pretty good excuse.”
“Come with me? Maybe I can carve out an hour for shopping after the agents leave.”
“You know I will.” Shelly paused and bit her lip. “Except I promised Mitch I’d go whale-watching with him this afternoon.”
“Really? After what you just said?”
Shelly shook her hands. “I know, I know. Look, I’ll cancel.”
“No, go ahead,” Ivy said. “We can go in the morning.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Hey, maybe we’ll meet some nice guys at the party.”
Ivy raised a brow. “Like you want a nice guy.” She’d say anything to keep Shelly off that line of questioning again.
“No, I do. I really do this time. And you should, too.”
Ivy started to reply, but Bennett appeared in the doorway, saving her.
“Got a minute?” he asked.
I have a lifetime, she wanted to say. Where did that come from? Instead, she rose and said, “Sure,” as stoically as she could manage.
What on earth was wrong with her?
As she walked toward him, Ivy glanced back at Shelly, who was staring at them quizzically.
Following Bennett downstairs, she asked, “Find anything new?”
“You’ll see.”
Shelly appeared at the top of the stairs. “Can I listen in, too?”
“Sure.” Bennett motioned for Shelly to join them.
The FBI agents and Chief Clarkson had removed the covering from a table and placed chairs around it. Bennett pulled one out for her, and she eased into it, casting her gaze around the table. Cecile wore a serious expression, while Ari had a triumphant air about him. Chief Clarkson’s expression was unreadable.
Shelly perched on a bench beside them.
Cecile templed her manicured nails and began. “When we received the photographs from Chief Clarkson, we were struck by the number of works and the purported artists. A team was immediately pulled from other work to focus on this. Our colleagues have been matching the images you sent to the National Stolen Art File, an FBI database, around the clock since receipt. Many of these works were considered lost or destroyed. Of more than 20,000 works confiscated during the time period in question, thousands were burned. We fear many on our list met that fate.”
Cecile paused to consult her list. “As of right now, we have an extraordinarily high match on the stolen art list. Given that the disappearance of these pieces occurred during a similar time, between 1937 and 1939, we will probably find that most can be traced to one event.”
“Hitler’s degenerate art sale,” Ivy said, growing excited. “Paul Klee, Franz Marc, Max Ernst, Marc Chagall.” And Max Beckmann, Otto Dix, Wassily Kandinsky…and so many more. A frisson of excitement passed through her as she thought of these great artists—and their work leaning against crates and boxes in her house. “They’re all there, aren’t they?”
Cecile flicked her gaze toward Ari.
Nodding, Ari cleared his throat. “You’ve seen them, and we understand you have a background in fine art and art history. You must know that this is one of the most significant finds we have encountered. For that reason, we must gather evidence and take possession of the artwork.”
Shelly sucked in a breath. “Then, the paintings are all real?”
“Most likely,” Cecile said. “Chief Clarkson will provide officers to secure the area until we have our own personnel, who will arrive soon. Until we have completed this phase of the task, we ask that you not share any information or details with anyone. And please don’t speak to members of the media. We’ll issue a statement when we’re ready.”
“Not a word,” Ivy said. She could feel the energy flowing from Shelly. For Shelly to keep a secret of this magnitude, especially at a party, would be the supreme test of her control. Ivy hoped she’d pass. “I can assure you that this will remain among the people in this room.”
Ari looked up from his notes. “We have another person who was present at the discovery of the room. Mitch Kline. Can anyone tell me how to reach him?”
Chief Clarkson pointed toward Cecile’s coffee cup. “He probably made that cup of coffee for you this morning. Mitch owns Java Beach.”
Ari made a note. “We’ll interview him next.”
Chief Clarkson splayed his hands on the table. “Before you do, I’d like to discuss an issue about Mitch Kline with you.”
“Other than the fact that he is a convicted felon?” Cecile coolly relayed this detail. “For burglary. And he installed the door and lock?”
Shelly’s mouth formed an “O.”
Ivy blinked.
Bennett spoke up. “Mitch is a hard-working, valued member of our community.”
“Be that as it may, having him near the premises might prove compromising,” Cecile said,
Ivy clutched Shelly’s hand under the table. “We understand.”
“Is he aware of the paintings?”
When Shelly’s face turned fiery red, Ivy leaned forward. “He did see them when he was installing the door.”
Cecile, Ari, Chief Clarkson, and Bennett remained stone-faced.
Finally, Ari said, “Our entire team can’t thank you enough for bringing this discovery to our attention. Your honesty will benefit many people whose families owned these works.”
Ivy’s heart filled with gratitude. She asked, “Will the art be returned to them or their heirs?”
Ari replied, “Once the paintings are verified, a court order will be issued to return the works to their rightful owners.” He hesitated. “One thing we don’t know is
