Page 51 of The Villain

He tried to scrub the rasp from his voice by clearing his throat, but it didn’t help. “Carol was working the morning of the explosion. We’re trying to retrace your steps and see if it gives us any clues.”

“I understand.” I swallowed. “What did she say? Are my paintings there?” In the mix of gambling-husband-turned-would-be-assassin and rebound-date-turned-hardened-criminal, I’d forgotten about the paintings I’d remembered putting in my car that morning.Or maybe I’d just assumed I’d lost them along with everything else about my former life in those minutes.

“They are.”

I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until my chest deflated with a loud whoosh. “Oh, good.” My voice wobbled, and I lifted my hand to my cheek, feeling the foolish spill of a tear. To cry over a painting…“I’m sorry.”

“Athena…” His rumble reached me even through the phone. Warm and thick, it wrapped comfort right back around me. And for a second, I believed that even though I didn’t have my sight or my safety, I had him.

“I’m okay,” I assured them both as Rob silently placed a tissue in my hand as though it had magically appeared there.

“The paintings you told me about are here, but Carol said you didn’t just drop them off, you picked up three others from the gallery that morning,” he continued on.

“Picked them up?” The mask shifted as my brow creased. “That doesn’t make sense. I was bringing pieces over for the show. Why would I take three back?”

“She said you told her someone had already bought them. You didn’t say who, but she’s confident by the way you spoke that it was Ivans—Richard.”

“Oh—ow.” I hissed and pressed my hand to the side of my head, where the pain came from.

“Athena—” Rob touched my elbow, letting me know she was there.

“I think that’s right.” I interrupted her before Dare realized something could be wrong. “I don’t…remember…exactly, but that feels right.” I didn’t know how else to explain it. “We met at the fundraiser because he admired my work, and he kept telling me he was excited for the show because he wanted to purchase some for his house. He insisted on coming to the gallery for a preview of what would be shown.”

I remembered walking him through the back room, revealing my hard work piece by piece, and feeling a sense of pride that I was finally doing this—finally pursuing my dream—and someone appreciated that. And me.

Too bad he’d turned out to be a criminal.

“There were three he really liked.” Seascapes from the California coastline. “He kept asking me to set them aside for him.” My head pounded as I dug through the muck for more of my memories. “He asked me at dinner the night before if he could buy them ahead of time. Begged, really.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him I’d think about it.” I could remember that was how I’d left it at dinner. “I guess I decided to do it the next morning.”

“Athena…” Dare’s voice lowered like he was about to ask something important. “Do you think you picked them up and took them to him that morning? To his house?”

My lips parted. I wished I could say yes—I wished I could be certain about it, but it was all still a void. “I could have. If they weren’t in my car…unless I brought them back to my house to set them aside for him.” I bit my bottom lip, the sudden pain in my head now a splitting ache.

“Dare—” Rob tried to break in, and I could tell she saw I was in pain even though I did my best not to let it show.

“Would you have a record if he bought them?”

My spine straightened. “Yes. I should have a copy of the receipt.” The pain was getting worse, but it finally felt like I was helping. Finally felt like I was useful.

“At your house?”

“If it wasn’t at the gallery, and it wouldn’t have been if—since I sold him the paintings before the show—then it should be in my files. On an invoice?—”

“Where?” he demanded, and I could hear a motorcycle rumble to life.

“Enough, Dare.” Rob’s weight lifted off the bed as she snapped, the thread of warning in her voice was thin and as sharp as a garrote to his throat.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I’ll go back and look?—”

“Take me with you.” It was my turn to insist on something. “Everything’s kind of a mess since I moved back…I’ll know where to look, and maybe going back will trigger…”

“Athena.” Rob touched my shoulder.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” I assured her through the headache that chugged around my skull like a freight train. “Please, let me help.”

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