If I Didn't Know Better (The Callaways #9)(78)

"You didn't agree to that, did you?"

"No, that would be taking things way too far."

"I wonder what happened to the missing paintings," he mused.

"They could have been destroyed. We did throw a bunch of ripped canvases into the garbage. I suppose I should have looked more closely at them, but I just wanted to get the destruction out of my sight and out of my mind."

"Which was understandable. I still don't think anyone has a right to anything they left behind. You're being generous to try to help them, but you don't have to bend over backward for them."

"Hopefully, I won't have problems with any of the other artists. I also had a nice conversation with Didi Eckhart from the gallery. She liked the paintings and asked me to pick out the ones I like the best and bring them over this week. Then we'll figure out a date for the show. She also said she'd put the word out to see if we can find any of the other artists, just in case anyone else has a problem, which I hope they don't."

"You accomplished a lot."

"It did feel good to get something done." She paused. "Didi actually offered me a job."

He gave her a quick look. "Really? In the gallery?"

"She said she wants to turn her gallery into a more welcoming venue for local artists and her current curator is stuck in the old ways of her husband. She somehow thought I'd be perfect, even though we've only spoken for about thirty minutes."

"You make a good first impression," he said with a warm smile. "As well as a second and third and fourth…"

"Thank you, but I think she was basing her respect for me as much on her friendship with my aunt as anything else. Apparently, Carly helped her a lot when her husband died, and Didi felt like she found her feet again because of my aunt's inspiring words."

"Your aunt certainly did change a lot of lives."

"That was her legacy, right? It wasn't all the stuff she left behind; it was the people whose lives she touched."

"What about your mystery painting? Did you get any leads on that?"

"I heard from my friend in Paris. She confirmed my suspicion that the painting was done by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. She said she thinks it was one of several paintings that he didn't deem good enough to sell or show. Apparently, after his death, there were numerous paintings found in his attic that no one had known about. Those paintings were later sold to a museum in Paris. Unfortunately, that museum was raided by the Nazis during World War II, and not all of the art was recovered. The pieces have ended up all over the world."

"So what's next?"

"I still need to hear from Kate. I want to know if the FBI has any leads on the painting's ownership after the war. I'll also need to get the painting appraised to see if it is in fact an original and not a copy, but I'll probably have to go back to San Francisco to do that. I want to be careful about how I handle this. Because the painting was found in my aunt's house, that could make her culpable of something."

He gave her a thoughtful look as he stopped at a light. "You don't think your aunt stole the painting, do you?"

"Of course not. But I don't know how to prove that. I need more information. Hopefully, Kate will get back to me soon, but I know she's on assignment in Japan, so who knows what she's up to."

"What is she doing in Japan?"

"I have no idea, but she sounded pretty excited about being there. She just finished her training, and I know she's eager to get into the action."

"She should be careful what she wishes for," he said, a serious note in his voice.

"Are you thinking about your own desire for adventure and how that turned out?" she asked.

He glanced over at her. "Your words did take me back to the early days and also my first few assignments with Delta. We were considered the best of the best. We were the ones who would be sent into impossible situations to make miracles happen. It was a heady, powerful feeling."

"Is that what's so hard to give up now—that feeling of power?"

"It's more like the rush I got when I managed to do the impossible. Unfortunately, that didn't always happen. Not every mission was successful. And sometimes bureaucracy and politics played too big of a role, but that's the way the world goes." He turned into the parking lot behind the Stonecreek Inn. "We're here."

"It looks beautiful. Have you been here before?"

"Never, but I heard the food is great and the atmosphere is romantic."

She smiled at the look he gave her. "Looking for a little romance tonight, are you?"

"Definitely." He put his hand on her leg. "What about you?"

"We'll see how dinner goes," she said with a laugh.

They got out of the car and walked into the restaurant, which was tucked into a hillside. There were two decks: one on the front side of the restaurant overlooking the ocean and a side deck that looked over a picturesque creek and an ornamental bridge.

Their table was by the creek, and Mia liked the ripple of water over the rocks next to their table. It was very relaxing. They ordered wine, a vegetable appetizer and their entrées, then toasted each other with a drink and settled back in their seats.

She'd chosen the wild salmon with risotto and Jeremy had ordered a NY strip steak, both of which were absolutely delicious. As they ate, they talked about nothing too serious: movies, books, baseball teams, fantasy football leagues and the legends of Angel's Bay—all the ordinary conversations that they'd somehow skipped in their very fast relationship.