Chirp(75)
“What did the PI want?”
“Said he’d tracked her to Waco, but lost her there.”
Hanna smiled. “Then it makes sense.”
“What?”
“I was clearing out my history on my laptop, and during the time Blaze was taking care of the goats, she searched for rental property in Austin. I think she’s there.”
34
Blaze
Blaze spent the morning watching Ethan, the yard hunk, move pumpkins from one place to the next as Odette directed. Wasn’t sure if the woman had really been undecided or wanted to see Ethan’s muscles flex and his jeans dip low as he bent to arrange them.
Whatever the reason, it had paid off because the courtyard looked like an autumn magazine cover.
Blaze refocused on the canvas she’d finished. Ethan was a fine specimen. She’d gotten to know him over the past few months, and it turned out he wasn’t the least bit offended to learn she’d been painting his portrait.
Clearly Odette hoped Blaze would develop more than artistic interest in him, but that hadn’t happened. He was a nice young man, but when she was near him, nothing tingled or tightened. Guess it was a good thing, since she’d learned he had a steady girlfriend. That information had burst her landlady’s matchmaking bubble.
She glanced at the mesh blouse, leather skirt, and wedge heels laid out on the chair. Add chandelier earrings, and she’d have the perfect ensemble for tonight’s special dinner at Odette’s house.
Closing her eyes, Blaze thought about her upcoming birthday, less than two months away. She’d concentrated on hiding for so long, the soon-to-be freedom frightened her. She’d be able to do anything she wanted without looking over her shoulder. As crazy as it sounded, it would be an adjustment. But she’d have Hanna. By then her friend would live in Houston. The downside? Crossing paths with Rance at some point. Wasn’t sure how she’d handle that. Being in the same room with the love of her life and not touching him would be agony.
She went back outside and eased onto the lounge chair, pulling a blanket around her. It was only the middle of September, but a crisp breeze cut at her face, and the odor of burning wood tickled her nose. There was something peaceful about a crackling fire. Over the years she’d enjoyed plenty of evenings in front of Dessie’s. She shook the memory away. No need to dwell on Bluebird, because every time she did, sadness overwhelmed her.
Rance
Rance had been in Austin for two weeks checking all the ads Chirp had searched on Hanna’s computer, but so far no luck. Each rental company had pages of properties, and there was no way to know which ones she had considered.
He’d compared what had been available during that time to what had leased since then. Once he made that list, he drove by each location and staked it out until he saw the new tenant. Knowing Chirp, she’d avoid apartment buildings, so he’d concentrated on individual dwellings and duplexes. That narrowed the possibilities, but there were still hundreds.
He parked his Harley and strolled inside Rise and Shine breakfast bar. Staying at a nearby motel, he’d found plenty of places to eat. This one had been a godsend. Locally owned, they offered a buffet with fifteen different bacon flavors.
He grabbed a complimentary newspaper from the end of the counter and slid into a booth. Within a few seconds, the waitress came to get his drink order. While he waited, he helped himself to the buffet, then returned to his seat and scanned the headlines. Texas Book Festival Expecting Record Turnout. Texas Mom Convicted of Man Slaughter. Austin Police Body Cameras on Hold.
The server brought his coffee and sashayed away. He folded the paper, laid it aside, and texted Seth. His brother was working long hours but loved his job. Chirp had done a good thing because she was a good person. Better than Rance deserved.
He finished his pancakes and fought the urge to smoke a cigarette. Following a meal was when he wanted one the most. Would the craving ever go away? He wondered that about her, too. Would he ever stop wanting her? He didn’t think so.
He slid across the plastic seat and knocked the newspaper to the floor. As he gathered the pages, something caught his eye. He sat again and stared at the events section. Kennamer Gallery Hosts Anonymous Artist. There, in the center of the page, in all his glory, Rance’s torso. The scar on his belly proved it. Holy shit.
Board chairman Odette Fontaine discovered the local talent . . . The artist, who wishes to remain a mystery, has caused quite a stir among art critics . . . Located on Congress Avenue.
His pulse raced.
It didn’t take long to find the address, and he angled the Harley into a spot in front. A park next door provided a good place to wait until the gallery opened. His insides jumped. He’d found her. Really found her. He couldn’t believe it. She’d never agree to go public with her paintings. Not while hiding. What was the woman’s name? Why hadn’t he brought the paper?
God, he wasn’t thinking straight. He palmed his phone. Fumbled. Dropped it. Damn, hoped he hadn’t broken the thing. Calm down. He took a deep breath and retrieved the cell. Thankfully it was still in once piece. He pulled up today’s edition. Odette Fontaine. With a few more taps, he had her address.
The lights came on in the building. Once inside, he wandered from painting to painting. It was as if he’d fallen into a dream. Canvases of his faceless body hung on every wall.