Chapter Fifty-One

Beaufort, South Carolina

October 28

I t was midnight when Miles pulled the pickup into the driveway. He was immediately on alert when he spotted the Volvo parked in front of the house. He hopped out of the truck, entered the cottage, and followed the voices to the spare bedroom.

Very Valentine was holding a caddy of paints and standing beside an easel with a blank canvas. “It acts like regular oil paint. You can create the forgery like you normally would. But,” Very pulled a small aerosol can from her pocket. “When you spray this on the painting, the fun starts.”

“How does it work?” Clara asked as she took the item.

Very wiggled her fingers and said in her best spooky voice, “Science.”

Clara laughed. “Got it. Thanks so much, Very.”

“Are you kidding? Chemistry and payback? This was the most fun favor ever. Hey, Miles.”

He stepped fully into the room and stood beside Clara.

“Hi, Very. Where’s Steady?”

“If everything is as it should be, he’s curled up on a deck chair having a snoring contest with Tilly.”

Miles laughed at the image of Steady Lockhart snuggling with his deaf yellow lab. “Well, tell him ‘hello.’”

“Will do. Clara, call me if you have any questions or if the paint isn’t right.”

“Thanks again, Very. I don’t know how you do it.”

Miles watched Very watch him. Then, she said, “I’m a chemist. I know chemistry .” With a wink and a wave, Very Valentine left.

“You two have a little girls’ night?”

“Sort of. She was dropping off the special paint for the forgery.”

“It works?” Miles asked.

“Very says it will work. Should be a fun little surprise for Lucien Kite.”

Miles pulled Clara into his arms.

“How was your visit with Finn?” she asked.

“Good. He and Tox are tight, and I can see why. Finn’s smart and intuitive.”

“And what intuition did he share with you?”

Miles squeezed Clara tighter. He had no intention of sharing what Finn had told him about Raphael Garza. For one thing, he already looked like a jealous asshole. For another, he didn’t want to shatter Clara’s image of her childhood friend. If, as Miles suspected, Garza wanted Kite’s banking records for himself, he would have to take additional precautions.

He turned her to the side and, with an arm wrapped around her shoulders, guided Clara out of the spare room. “The subtle differences in the flavor and quality of the local microbrews.”

“Were you okay to drive?”

“One beer, Bluebird.”

“Are you tired?” she asked.

“Clara, when your body is pressed up against mine, the last thing I’m thinking about is sleep.”

She gave him a nip on his lower lip. “Then let’s go to bed.”

Miles growled into her neck, “Go get naked. I’ll lock up.”

When Clara disappeared into the bedroom, Miles stepped onto the porch and scanned the woods. The forest was silent and alive. Some strange plant emitted an iridescent green light, giving the scene an otherworldly glow. Not a creature was stirring.

And that was the most unsettling aspect of all.