Reunion at Cardwell Ranch (8 page)

“Why would you do that?” Austin let out a curse. “If you’re right and this woman really is a criminal, then you are in over your head already. I’m serious. What has gotten into you?”

“Isn’t it possible that I know what I’m doing? Just because I’ve always been the brains behind the business doesn’t mean I can’t do what you and Hayes have been doing for years.”

Austin ignored the part about “the brains behind the business.”

“Damn it, Laramie, you aren’t trained for undercover work.”

He leaned against his kitchen counter. “What about the times I’ve helped the two of you on cases? Give me a little credit.”

“At least tell me what you’re planning to do.”

“I need to know what her game is. She’s been seen leaving other houses, but nothing according to the owners was taken. Don’t tell me that doesn’t intrigue you.”

Austin frowned. “I smell a scam, either with the artist, the owner of the painting and/or your cat burglar.”

“I have no idea, but,” Laramie said, smiling, “I hope to find out.”

His brother seemed to run out of arguments. “What is this woman’s name? I’ll run a background check on her and see if she’s had any arrests or convictions.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather—”

“Your instincts aside, you need to know who you’re dealing with. Unless you don’t want to know the truth because... You haven’t fallen for this woman, have you?”

“Of course not,” he said and looked away, remembering the kiss.

“Laramie—”

“I just don’t want you getting involved.”

Austin sighed. “How did this woman get under your skin so quickly?”

Laramie shook his head. There was no denying it. Sid had gotten to him.

“If this is about proving something to yourself or to the rest of us—”

“Maybe it started out that way,” Laramie admitted. “But if anyone can understand getting hooked on a case, it should be you.”

His brother rubbed his neck for a moment before he smiled. “Apparently you are a lot more like me than I ever realized. Okay. All I’ll do is run a background check on her. Just let me do that. Unless you’re afraid of what I’m going to find out.”

“Her name is Obsidian Forester. But I don’t want you going to Hud with this yet.”

“We’ll keep it between us, for now. Obsidian Forester. With a name like that, I shouldn’t have any trouble. In the meantime, be careful. You’re sure she isn’t the one who ran you off the road?”

“I can’t imagine how she could be.” That was at least true enough.

Chapter Nine

Sid looked around her cabin at all the work she had to do. Since coming back from the museum and her encounter with Laramie Cardwell, she’d gotten little done. Nor had she slept well last night. All her instincts told her to forget about the painting Laramie Cardwell now had in his possession.

If only she could. The painting was a loose end, one she had to take care of, which meant she would have to deal with Laramie Cardwell.

She kept rerunning their conversation in her head. She wavered between,
he knows it was you
and
he can’t possibly know
and
even if he does suspect you, he can’t prove it
.

Still, getting closer to him—and the painting—felt like a trap. She had no doubt that she could steal the painting back. He would be spending some of the holidays with his family. It would be the perfect time to take it.

But then he would know that, as well. Her head hurt as she considered what he might be up to. If he suspected who she was, then he would try to get proof. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was just waiting for her to show up in the middle of the night to try to retrieve the painting she’d dropped so he could catch her red-handed.

Was Marshal Hud Savage in on it? She didn’t think so. Since none of the paintings were missing, he wasn’t apt to think that a crime had been committed.

So what was Laramie up to besides tempting her? The fact that he seemed to be tempting her for more than the painting unnerved her. During coffee a couple times she’d caught him looking at her as if...as if he was interested in her? Of course he was, but not because he was attracted to her. And yet, she had felt an electric spark between them. A stirring she hadn’t felt in a very long time—if ever.

The thought made her laugh. If it wasn’t complicated enough, she could never fall for a
businessman
. She bet that most of the time he wore a three-piece suit and spent his time behind a desk. Definitely not her type. And yet that image didn’t quite seem to fit Laramie Cardwell.

No one who spent all his time behind a desk was in that great shape. No, when she closed her eyes, she saw him in boots, jeans and a Western shirt. He’d mentioned going horseback riding. Maybe she would take him up on it and see just how “Western” he really was.

The idea had too much appeal. If she were smart, she would keep her distance. But then how could she find out what he was up to, let alone get the painting back?

She picked up her keys before good sense could stop her and headed for her SUV. It was time to pay Laramie Cardwell a visit.

* * *

A
USTIN
RAN
THE
name Obsidian Forester the moment he reached his computer at the small office he kept at his wife’s gallery.

“You look awfully serious,” Gillian said from the doorway.

“Laramie’s met a woman.”

She chuckled. “And that’s bad?”

“It depends on whether or not she’s a convicted felon or worse.”

“There’s something worse than a convicted felon?”

Austin watched as the information came up on the computer screen. He knew what he’d been expecting. A record that showed the woman was a thief, a forger...at the very least a con artist.

“Well?” Gillian asked as she came into the room.

“No record. Nothing.”

“Why don’t you sound relieved?”

Austin raked a hand through his hair. “He’s my little brother.”

“Maybe the woman is fine.”

“Maybe she is just starting her criminal career and my little brother is her first victim.”

“It sounds to me like you’re just looking for trouble,” Gillian said as she turned to leave.

* * *

L
ARAMIE
HEARD
THE
sound of the vehicle coming up the road. Another of his brothers? They’d always been protective of him because he was the youngest. He hadn’t minded, liking that they had watched his back. But this was different. This was something he wanted to handle himself.

He sighed as he looked out and was pleasantly and unexpectedly surprised to see Obsidian Forester’s older-model blue SUV coming up the road. He hadn’t expected her to take him up on his offer—let alone so soon.

Hurrying upstairs, he stashed the painting she’d dropped that night in the closet and then rushed back down. He would show it to her, but not right away.

As the blue SUV pulled in, his heart jumped in his chest with expectation. Even though he knew she was probably only here because of the painting, he still smiled to himself as he watched her get out of her vehicle from a window.

Laramie ran a hand through his thick dark hair and braced himself to see her again. Chimes filled the house as she rang the doorbell. He hoped that the reason Austin hadn’t gotten back to him yet was because he hadn’t found out anything worrisome about Sid. Bracing himself, he opened the door.

Sid looked out of a fur-trimmed hooded coat. Her face glowed from the cold and the afternoon light. Her breath came out in white puffs, her eyes clear blue like the ice on the river. Snowflakes danced in the air around her. She was a winter wonderland vision standing there.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” she asked as a few moments passed without either of them speaking.

He mentally shook himself out of his reverie. “Sorry, you looked so...”

“Cold?” she suggested with a smile.

“Exactly, come on in.” He stepped aside to let her enter.

“I probably should have called.”

“Except you didn’t take my number. But your timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Let me take your coat. I have a fire going in the fireplace if you need to warm up, and I can make some coffee.”

“Thank you,” she said, shrugging out of the coat. Her ginger hair was loose and now fell around her shoulders in a sunset wave of color. Her freckles seemed to stand out even more on her pale face. “It’s Montana in late December.” She shrugged as if being a little cold was expected.

“So you’re used to winter,” Laramie said as he hung up her coat in the closet by the front door. “I never asked you if you’re from here or a newbie like me.”

“New to this town. But I was raised in Montana not too far from here.” She followed him into the kitchen.

“So where exactly are you from?” he asked as he poured her a mug.

“I grew up outside of Maudlow,” she said with a laugh. “You’ve never heard of it, right? It’s to the north. Not much of a town there anymore.” She glanced around. “Nice house.”

“Thanks. I didn’t want anything too big, but by my condo standards, this place seems huge. It does make me want to stay here more, though.”

“You aren’t planning to stay long this time?” she asked as she wandered into the living room, then turned. “Do you mind?” she asked nodding toward the stairs.

“No, please. Take a look around. As you can see, the walls are all bare down here.” He followed her up the stairs, again noting how fluidly she moved. Also how quietly.

On the second floor, she made a lap through the main room, then headed up the second set of stairs to the master bedroom. To the casual observer she didn’t seem to know the house. But it was clear to him that she knew exactly what she was looking for.

On the third floor, she entered his bedroom slowly. Fortunately, he’d made the bed this morning and he hadn’t left any clothing lying around. Because he’d been expecting her. He was pleased that he’d been right. In fact, she’d shown up even sooner than he had hoped.

She stepped in, seeming to take in the view before she turned first to the right, then slowly to the left as if leaving the painting till the last.

Laramie had to smile to himself. This is what she’d come to see, he thought, as she took in the painting. Everything else had been pretense—he was sure of it.

“This is the painting you told me you bought from the owner?” she asked without looking at him.

“That’s it. There was just something about it, if you know what I mean.”

“No. Like I said, I’m not a fan of cowboy art, but as long as
you
like it...” She glanced around. Looking for the other painting?

“I’m not sure what I like, to tell you the truth.”

“Isn’t there art in your home in Houston?” she asked as if actually interested.

“I bought the condo new. It came decorated.”

She shook her head as if she couldn’t imagine doing something like that.

Her eyes were darker in his bedroom, a deeper blue. He wondered what color they would be when she opened her eyes in his bed in the morning. The thought shook him to his boots. Of course he was attracted her. What red-blooded Texas boy wouldn’t be? But to think that there was a chance they might be lovers...

“What’s funny about this painting,” he said, drawing her back to it, “is that I have two of them.”

That definitely got her attention. “Why would you buy two of them?”

“Good question, since, when I visited the artist, he told me he painted only one of them,” Laramie said as he stepped past her to open the closet and pull out the second one. He hung it next to the first. “So which one is the original?”

* * *

S
HE
LOOKED
AT
THEM
for a moment. “I have no idea.”

Sid strangled back the cry that rose in her throat. Only moments before she had been looking at all the wonderful wall space he had in his house, thinking how fun it would be to fill it with art. She’d been excited about the ridiculous thought of helping him. How she would have loved it. She had tons of ideas. Not that it would ever happen, but it was fun to fantasize about a lot of things when it came to Laramie Cardwell.

Then he’d said he’d talked to Taylor West about the two paintings, and all the air had rushed out of her. The room suddenly felt too hot, too small, too bright.

She’d barely been able to get the words out. “You showed the work to the artist?” He nodded, hopefully unaware of how upset she’d become. “I would think he would know his own artwork,” she said carefully.

“I thought the same thing. Apparently one of these is the original. The other, a forgery. A very good forgery.”

“That’s remarkable. Did he have any idea who might have been able to forge it?”

Laramie shook his head. “West said the only man good enough to have done the work was one H. F. Powell. Have you heard of him?”

She could only nod.

“But apparently he’s dead. So it remains a mystery. Just between you and me? What makes it all the more crazy is how I came to have both paintings.”

Sid listened as he told her what she already knew. “That is quite the story,” she said when he finished.

“It’s a mystery.”

“I’m sure you’ll solve it,” she said, hoping she was wrong.

“Maybe,” he said meeting her gaze. “I’m sure hoping I do.”

Sid reminded herself that the only reason she’d come over here was to get the painting back, which meant getting closer to Laramie Cardwell. But being here with him, standing this close to him, looking into those blue eyes...

She felt a small tremor move through her.
He knew.
It was time to quit kidding herself. He was just waiting for her to make a mistake. But that wasn’t all she saw in his eyes or felt being this close to him. Some kind of chemistry was arcing between them and he felt it, too.

Sid tried to convince herself this was about nothing more than foreplay, flirtation. But the attraction was so strong between them that there was no denying it.

Worse, she
liked
him. Look at the interest he’d taken in Western art since the first night they’d met, she thought with a hidden smile. He’d become intrigued, just as she had become intrigued by him. She couldn’t say that about most of the men she’d dated. Her last serious relationship had been in high school. Fortunately she’d been smart enough not to marry him.

But whatever feelings she might have when it came to Laramie Cardwell, the question now was how far she would go to get the painting back.

* * *

L
ARAMIE
SAW
THE
WAY
Sid was clutching the coffee mug in both hands. “Your coffee must be getting cold. Let’s go back down. I want your opinion on that big wall in the living room.”

He’d noticed the change in her. What he’d told her had upset her. But by the time they reached the kitchen, she seemed her cool, calm self again.

This woman would be the death of him. The thought surprised him as if it was a warning. But there was no denying whatever was going on between them under the surface. It wasn’t his imagination. This woman did things to him. That alone made her dangerous—not to mention the fact that she was a criminal. A thief. Or worse.

He told himself he wouldn’t be stupid enough to let her steal his heart.

“If I’m going to help find the right art for you, then I’ll need to figure out what you like,” Sid said after he’d warmed up her coffee and showed her the large, high-ceilinged wall in the living room.

“How do you suggest doing that since I don’t know what I like?” he asked, inexplicably still intrigued and attracted by this woman. He really had to be careful. Austin was right. He had no idea what he was getting into.

She smiled as she looked up at him, her eyes locking with his. “I guess we’ll have to spend more time together so I get to know you better.”

He felt a dart of desire puncture his already weak reserve.
She was flirting with him.

“I completely agree,” he heard himself say, all the while reminding himself who he was dealing with. Austin was afraid this woman was dangerous. His brother had no idea given the mix of emotions Sid evoked in him.

She smiled. “Any suggestions?”

She
definitely
was flirting with him. Laying some sort of trap for him?

He decided to play along. “We could start by going horseback riding, but it’s supposed to snow this afternoon.”

Sid laughed. “I love riding in the snow, but if you—”

“No, I’m in. Just let me call my cousin Dana.”

* * *