“No. Yes. You weren’t supposed to see that.”
“What else aren’t you telling me?”
“Ash, I don’t know where my creativity originates, but I do know that these scenes don’t mean much of anything. They never do. I just have to paint them to get them out of my head so that I can work on my other stuff.”
I moved to the other covered ones and reached for the sheets.
“No!” she yelled just as I pulled them free.
My heart momentarily stopped beating.
“Those are nothing,” she said, dropping the hand she was holding up in midair.
These weren’t nothing. These were identical to the pictures I’d just seen—the crime scene photos hanging on the wall at the police station.
I ran my hand through my hair as I removed all the sheets until other similar pictures surrounded me, just like the one on display where the man with no face held the starring role.
I shook my head. “Go pack your bag. I’m taking you to Grant.”
She rested her hands on her hips. “These are just paintings, Ash. They don’t mean anything.”
I slowly turned to look at her. “We both know better than that.”
Anger flashed in her eyes. “They don’t even affect me. I’m not in these pictures, and I’m not leaving. Not until after my gallery exhibit.”
“You’re wrong about that,” I said, pulling out my phone and snapping pictures of her paintings.
“Ashton, I’m not in danger.”
“Yes, you are, and judging by these pictures, I got here just in time.”
“Well, you’re here. You’ll protect me, right? What if I promise that you can act as my bodyguard? I swear I’ll leave after the exhibit. It’s too important, and I have too many irons in the fire to walk away. It will ruin my career and those of the people that count on me.”
“And if you stay, then you might get hurt.”
“I’ll take that chance. My art exhibit is important, Ash. It’s not just my paintings on display; it’s the work of others as well. For them, it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I don’t expect you to understand, but I’m a grown woman, and I am staying, regardless of whether you stay with me.”
“Stella, be smart.”
“This is me being smart. I haven’t kicked you out yet.” Her eyes narrowed in determination.
“Your stubbornness is going to be the death of me,” I said as I continued taking pictures.
“You can finish looking at those later. Come on. I’ll help you check the other doors and windows,” she said, taking my arm and pulling me to the stairs.
I’d figured out her secret, and yet she was still acting like she had something to hide.
If I could read her mind, this would be a hundred percent easier.
Her gaze darted to the other wall, and I slipped out of her hold and headed in that direction. I pulled the sheet on the only painting on that side of the room, and I suddenly wished I hadn’t.
“I can explain. It’s not what it looks like.”
7
Stella
This couldn’t be any more embarrassing. Well, maybe if her brother had seen this canvas, that might have been worse.
