“I keep the original to pass along to the buyer, but you’ll keep the copy.”
Maurice nodded as he picked up a pen. “I haven’t done this before. I’m not familiar with how it works.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh and Tinsley would have thought charming if she didn’t know he was scamming her.
“I’m here to help. Fill that out and grab the painting while I try to figure out a sale price.”
Maurice nodded as he went to work on the form. Tinsley took the paperwork and went into the office. She sent a text to Granger but didn’t hear back so she sent one to Kord, Granger’s deputy. Still nothing and now the bell had chimed twice, meaning Maurice was back with the painting.
“I have the painting,” she heard Maurice call out.
Tinsley rushed from the office with the copies made. “Oh, it’s just stunning. Castille is so bold that it just moves you.”
“What do you think you can sell it for?”
Tinsley knew what it would go for. One hundred thousand or more. “Well, it depends. Do you want me to hold it for the best price or the fastest price?”
“Fastest,” Maurice answered instantly.
“Castille goes from sixty thousand to four hundred thousand. This one would go for a hundred thousand, give or take twenty thousand, at top price.”
“And for the fast price?” Maurice asked.
“Seventy or so.”
“So, on the contract I’ll authorize a sale from sixty thousand up?” Maurice asked as Tinsley took the painting from him and set it on an empty easel.
“I think you can get more than sixty, but if you want to put that as your bottom price, I will do everything I can to stay away from it. After all, the more I sell it for the more you make, plus the more I make.” Tinsley thought he’d appreciate that and his broad smile showed he did.
“Deal. My grandma could really use the money so if you can sell it fast, that would be best.”
“Bless her heart. I’ll pray for her. If you need any more paintings sold, please let me know. I have a big database of private buyers who would love the first shot at paintings like this.”
“That would be great. Thank you, Tinsley.” Maurice shook her hand and left the gallery with a little pep to his step. Tinsley watched him go and felt a surge of satisfaction that she was going to take him down. Even though he was very polite, the fastest way you could get on Tinsley’s bad side was to steal art. She locked the front door after him and pulled out her cell phone.
“Tinsley, I can’t talk right now. I’m at a crime scene,” Paxton said the second he answered the phone.
“Does this crime involve a stolen Castille?” Tinsley asked with a smile on her face. She knew by his silence she’d surprised him and that was just plain fun.
“How do you know that?” Paxton asked slowly. She heard the background noise fade as he walked someplace more private.
“Because I’m looking at it.”
“I’m coming.”
The line went dead and Tinsley’s giggles evaporated into lust-filled clouds that stormed through her body. Paxton didn’t know that what he’d just said had been featured prominently in her dreams last night. Or did he?
5
How the hell did Tinsley Faulkner have the Castille painting stolen from the Havish house he was still standing in? The Havish family had been called and given a tour of the house over videoconference. They confirmed that some jewelry and a Castille painting were missing. When Paxton stopped the Myriad member, he’d saved a million-dollar painting by Soulages from being stolen.
Paxton gunned the FBI SUV he’d taken from Peter out of Sullivan’s Island. It wasn’t only to get to Tinsley quickly because of his case. Last night Paxton had dreamt of nothing but her. What freaked him out was the fact they weren’t lust-filled dreams. Well, some parts of them were, but the majority of his dreams had them in a relationship. He dreamed of them snuggled up on the couch, of him watching her paint, of him being . . . romantic. Then came the lust-filled part of the dream right before he woke up.
Honestly, he didn’t know what to make of it. Then he’d heard Tinsley’s gleeful voice saying she had the painting he was looking for, and he knew the man who stole it had probably been with her. Now his body and mind demanded he get to her immediately.
So he drove as fast as he could and only when he saw her through the gallery windows was he able to calm down. Paxton’s breath caught in his throat when Tinsley’s eyes locked on his through the windows and she smiled. He wanted her all for himself. He wanted to be the only one she smiled at in that way.
Now was not the time for his demanding side to come out. No, he wouldn’t do that to Tinsley. First, she was just too sweet to be with someone like him. She’d probably run screaming from the room if he told her a quarter of the things he wanted to do with her. Second, even if he could be abrasive at times, he wasn’t an asshole. He would never purposely hurt a woman. He wasn’t going to be in Charleston much longer, if he had his way, and the last thing he wanted to do was lead Tinsley on about a possible relationship then hurt her when he transferred back to Atlanta. Too bad his libido wasn’t listening to his brain.
Paxton headed into the gallery to find Tinsley practically bouncing from foot to foot. He wanted to groan with frustration because she was so freaking beautiful. She was practically glowing with excitement.
“What did the man look like who came in here?” Paxton demanded. Fear that he was still nearby or that it could be someone who had recognized him from his undercover work made the question come out harsher than he intended.
“About this tall,” Tinsley said, holding up her hand to indicate his height, which was a good six inches taller than the man at the Havish house. “Clean cut. His hair was black and tightly trimmed to frame his face. No facial hair. Business casual dress. Oh, and he drove a luxury sedan, but I didn’t get the plate number.”
Definitely not the same man from earlier in the day. The painting must have been handed off to this man and the jewelry to another. Both would then be sold immediately to increase the chance of getting money before a police report could be filed.
“Here it is.” Tinsley moved aside as she pointed to the Castille painting behind her.
“Tell me everything,” Paxton demanded as they stood in front of the painting.
Tinsley told him about Maurice, the sick grandmother, and the fact she’d seen him pull this act before with a Hamburg in Charleston. “Did Ellery sell the Hamburg?”
Tinsley shook her head. “He didn’t have any papers and Ellery went into labor. I don’t know what happened to it.”
Paxton turned his phone around. “Was it this one?”
“Yeah, how did—it’s stolen, right?” Tinsley was bouncing again from foot to foot as she put the pieces together.
“Yeah, it hasn’t been seen since March. Now, please tell me you got a phone number or something for this guy.”
Tinsley reached down onto her desk and handed him a bunch of papers. “I got all of his information. Though I don’t know if any of it’s legit. I have copies of the fake power of attorney for this sick grandmother, but more importantly, I got the original faked provenance. And the best part? I set myself up as his art dealer for the stolen goods. I’m the inside woman!”