went into the study and glanced around. Nothing looked different. The books lining the shelves were orderly, the blotter on the partners desk was centered, and the chairs were angled as I recalled.
“It looks the same, right?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah. But whoever it was wasn’t here long.”
“Right.”
He gestured that I should lead the way out, and we stood in the foyer, waiting.
“How did you know I was here?” I asked.
“Griff told me.”
“Griff?”
“The officer you spoke to.”
“Oh, I didn’t remember his name. Why did you stop by?” I asked.
He paused, then said, “Just checking on things.”
Was he checking up on me? At the auction, thinking he was following me had made me mad. Here, I had a different reaction. For whatever reason, it was easier for me to believe that he was just doing his job than it was to think he was trying to trap me somehow. I guessed it was adrenalin-fueled relief that allowed me to trust him.
“Feel free to sit down,” he said.
I went into the living room and perched on a French Provincial chair upholstered in blue-and-yellow fleur-de-lis chintz. He leaned on the doorframe, keeping an eye on the front door.
“So, are you okay enough to tell me what you’re doing here?”
He didn’t sound accusatory or judgmental. I looked up and our eyes met and held fast. The attraction I felt was deeper than before, more personal, based on my response to his actions, not just his looks. I felt myself relax and despite the anxiety of my situation, for a moment, all I experienced was the delicious, mysterious connection between an interested man and a willing woman.
A car door slammed and broke the spell. I looked away, disoriented, but calmer, and no longer frightened.
“So,” he repeated, “what were you doing here?”
I shrugged. “Nothing. I was looking around. You know, getting ready for tomorrow.”
“What’s tomorrow?”
“Sasha and I begin the appraisal. You heard, right? Mrs. Cabot has hired me to do a full appraisal.”
He nodded. “Yeah, Max told me. Congratulations.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
“So exactly where were you and what did you hear?”
“It just occurred to me that I ought to call Max.”
Alverez nodded. “Sure. Do you have his number?”
“Yeah. On my cell phone.” I retrieved my purse from the butler’s pantry where I’d deserted it. Max answered on the first ring.
“Max, I’m sorry to disturb you on a Sunday.”
“No problem, Josie. What’s up?”
“I’m here at the Grant house with Chief Alverez. I’m fine. But it looks like there was a break-in while I was here and he was asking me about it, so I thought I ought to call you.”
“A break-in! Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t see anything. But I heard footsteps and it pretty much scared me to death. Then Alverez came in and found me huddled in a ball crying my eyes out. Pretty embarrassing, all things considered.”
“Let me speak to him,” he said. He didn’t sound like he found my attempt at lightheartedness amusing.
I handed the phone to Alverez, who took it, and said, “Alverez.”
He rested against the wall, calm and seemingly at ease. I sat on the chair and watched and listened.
“She seems fine. She was spooked, was all… I haven’t checked yet… Understood… I’ll be reinstituting security… Yeah, absolutely. Okay… okay… here she is.”
I accepted the phone, and said, “Max?”
“Did you see or do anything you don’t want him to know about? Just answer yes or no.”
“No.”
“Do you have any idea who it was who entered?”
“No.”
“Do you know why someone would have broken in?”
“No. Well, maybe.”
“Why?”
“Can I say openly?” I asked, my eyes on Alverez, watching him watch me.
“No. Keep him in sight, but get out of earshot.”
I repeated Max’s instruction and Alverez said he’d step outside. I watched through the kitchen window as he walked toward the ocean. When he’d stopped and was standing with his hands in his pockets and his back to me, I told Max I was ready.
“So, why do you think?” he asked.
“Maybe to find the missing paintings.”
“Right. Got it.” Max paused. “Why would someone risk breaking in if you were there?”
“I don’t know. I was in the basement, so they wouldn’t have heard me walking around. And the workshop is on the far side of the house, so they might not have noticed the lights being on.” I shrugged. “The bulbs are pretty dim down there, anyway.”
“What about your car?”
“I left it in town. I walked.”
“That explains that,” Max acknowledged. “And you didn’t hear the person drive up?”
“No. But if I was in the basement, I don’t know that I would have heard a car.”
“In any event, you didn’t?”
“No.”
“Did you see anything-a shadow, a reflection in a mirror… anything?”
“No. Nothing.”
“What did you hear?”
“I heard a floorboard, on the porch, I guess. Then I heard the front door opening. Then more footsteps.”
“Where did the footsteps go?”
“It sounded like to the study, but I can’t be sure.”
“That’s all?”
“I heard noises. I thought it was someone moving around, pulling open drawers, maybe knocking over a chair. Then footsteps heading toward the kitchen.”
“Then what?”
“Then I tried to get out. And couldn’t. And flipped out.”
“You did fine, Josie. What else did you notice?”
“Nothing. After Chief Alverez arrived, I heard running steps, then a car roar off.”
“And that’s it?”
“That’s it,” I said.
Max paused, digesting, I guessed, what I’d told him. “What were you doing in the basement?”
“Looking around. I looked at a trunk and was deciding whether the broken things in Mr. Grant’s workshop were worth including in the appraisal.”
“What broken things?”
“You know, a lamp that needs a new cord, a plate that needs to be glued. Things like that.”
“What did you decide?”
“Probably they’re not worth including. I mean, there’s no market for glued china, you know? I thought I’d have Sasha look at the lamp, but that’s about it.”
“Okay. You can tell him what you’ve told me. If he asks anything out of range of your experience today at the
