Page 96 of The Chase
My forearms prickled as I peered at her ID. She wasn’t smiling in that photo, either. “What’s this about?” I said.
But I knew,St. Joanhad cracked open a can of worms. My life was about to nosedive.
My heartbeat took off at a rapid pace but I smiled through it, trying to look casually confident. A wave of guilt swept over me.
Yet I’d done nothing wrong.
“We’re investigating an incident at Christie’s. We’re talking to everyone who visited the auction house yesterday.”
“Oh, right, of course.” I opened the door for her.
We made what felt like an endless journey to the kitchen.
“Sorry for this.” I gestured to my hair. “Wasn’t expecting anyone.”
She waved it off with a smile and it was nice to see a flash of kindness. “Please.” I pointed to the table. “Would you like some tea?”
“Love some.” She dragged a chair and sat in it.
I busied with the kettle and put a tea bag inside a mug.
“You live alone?” She looked around.
“Yes.”
She gave a slow steady nod. “Me too. Divorced. A kid in school.”
“Sorry to hear that. About the divorce, I mean.”
“We’re much happier.” She added a frown.
“How can I help?”
“You were at Christie’s yesterday?”
“Yes, for work. I was checking on the provenance of a painting. I’m a forensic art specialist at Huntly Pierre. Provenance is—”
“I know what provenance is.” She lowered her gaze. “Huntly Pierre’s an exclusive place to work. Bet they pay well.”
“Is this about thatSt. Joan of Arc?” I cursed myself for saying it.
She gave a slow steady nod.
A sharp knock startled me.
“That’ll be my partner,” she said. “He was trying to find parking.”
“Oh, okay.” I was so shaken I’d forgotten they traveled in twos.
“Ms. Leighton?”
I paused at the door. “Yes?”
“You don’t seem too upset.”
I blinked at her. “They haven’t authenticated it yet.” Somewhere in the far reaches of my addled mind I recalled Tobias telling me to say that.
“Wasn’t that convenient,” she muttered.
