Page 27 of The Villain

“The sun is playing hide-and-seek above the clouds,” he went on, shading in more of the picture. “But it’s mostly a tired and gray sky.”

“From all the rain.” I’d heard the patter on the windows for two days straight.

“They’re calling for sun by the weekend.”

I wondered if I’d be able to see it by then. I swallowed, feeling a knot form in my chest. A reminder. “Thank you for bringing me out here. I’m sure this wasn’t what you’d planned on when you came to see me.”

He paused. “No, it wasn’t.”

I felt the edge in his tone, and guilt washed over me. They were already doing so much to help me—protect me—and here I was, begging him to describe the sky.

“Do you know what happened? Do you know who…”Tried to kill me.

“The explosives expert finished his investigation and confirmed what we believed—that the bomb was on a timer activated by a remote.” His weight shifted, the subtle crush of foliage underneath his feet. “It means the bomber had to be close. First to plant the bomb, and then to set it off. Do you remember anything about that morning? Did you have a regular routine you were following?”

My shoulders slumped, and I gripped his jacket tighter.

Routine?

It was hard to find a routine when it was more than boxes to unpack being back here.

“I remember…leaving my house that morning. I was in a rush. I even forgot a jacket, but I was carrying some of my paintings—” I broke off with a small cry.

“What? What is it?”

My paintings.

“I’m sorry.” I wished I could turn away from him, but there was no turning away from someone you couldn’t see. “I just…do you know if they found any artwork in my car?” I’d worked on those landscapes for months. To think they were gone…

“I don’t,” he answered after a beat.

I lowered my head in a nod, wishing the whole of me could disappear inside the shell of his jacket.

“Where were you taking them?” he asked next, giving me something to focus on rather than the tightness in my throat.

My brow scrunched, my mind suddenly treading in the deep end. “The gallery…”I bit my lip. “I think that’s where I was going—I don’t know where else I would be taking them, but…”

“But what?”

I tried to remember. I dug for what happened next, but it was like trying to dig myself out of quicksand. “I don’t know,” I admitted defeatedly. “I have a gallery show in four weeks—three weeks. That has to be where I was going.”

“What gallery? And can you describe the paintings?”

“The Tableau. It’s on First Street in Monterey.” I breathed out slowly. “They were two cityscapes of Downtown Carmel Cove.”

“I can have someone check and see if they’re there.”

“Thank you.”My shoulders slumped. “Someone should let Glenn—the gallery owner—know. She gets back from vacation tomorrow.” And considering I stopped there almost every day, it wouldn’t take much before she started asking questions.

“We’ll speak to her.”

“I wish I could remember. I hate that I can’t.” I lifted my hand to my temple, only to be met with the silk of the mask, which frustrated me even more.

“One day at a time.”

Even as he spoke, my brain hooked on a thought that seemed out of place yet hadn’t come from nowhere. “Did you speak to Rich? Is he okay?”

There was a shift in the air, but I couldn’t tell if it was a breeze or if Dare had suddenly stilled.

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