Winning Appeal
Page 18“My grandfather was a famous painter and his last painting was stolen ten years-ago. It’s here and I need to show Beth. She’ll recognize it.”
“It’s here?” Okay, now I was intrigued.
“We have to go now,” she said, still searching the room frantically. I nodded to Mark to let him know I wanted to go and at least see what she was talking about.
“Okay, but we can’t be gone long,” Mark said, putting his arm around me as we followed Caitlin out of the entry hall. She seemed to know her way around, which struck me as odd. We were heading away from the party and into a private part of the house.
“Caitlin, where are we going?” I asked, starting to feel uncomfortable. My family’s home was quite impressive, but this place was amazing. It was huge and everywhere I looked I saw expensive furnishings and art. It was more like a palace than someone’s house.
“I told you, to see the painting. It’s in his private study, but we’ll have to get in from outside,” she said over her shoulder, looking around nervously as we made our way through winding hallways. Initially, we passed catering staff or servants bustling about, but eventually, there was nobody but us.
She was moving very quickly and before I even realized what she was doing, she had opened a window and climbed out! What the fuck? This was getting weirder by the moment, but I had to admit that my curiosity had really been piqued.
“No! No way, Beth,” Mark said stopping dead in his tracks.
“Mark, the painting she’s talking about is legendary. People aren’t even sure it existed. She seems very sincere, and it makes me wonder.”
“If we get caught…”
“Oh… fuck!” he growled. What is it with the women in your circle? You all want me to dress up in costume and climb through windows for you.”
“I’ll make it up to you later,” I said, squeezing his hand.
“Promises, promises,” he grumbled but he followed me. Just then, Caitlin stuck her head back in.
“What’s taking you so long?” she hissed and Mark muttered something obscene in response. We got to the window and looked around quickly to make sure nobody was watching, then he helped me climb through, out onto a back porch facing the rear lawn.
“How do you know your way around Paul Gerard’s house so well?” I asked suspiciously, as Mark came through the window behind me.
“There’s no time for that now,” she answered. “He’s supposed to be making a speech soon, so he should be in the main hall, but we can’t take any chances. Come on.”
She took off, moving quickly again. It was dark out and I could just barely see her up ahead. Thankfully, there was nobody else in sight. She stopped and reached into her bag pulling something out. A moment later, a door swung open.
“Hurry,” she said quietly. Mark and I caught up and followed her into a small room that looked like it was used for storage. She went to another door, and opening it a crack, peeked through. Then she turned and signaled for us to follow. The door led to a long hallway, and Caitlin stealthily went directly to a door on the right, once again, opening it a crack and peeking inside, and then signaling for us to follow.
We entered a large room with a high ceiling. There was enough light coming in from outside to see that the walls were lined with books. Caitlin headed for a small alcove in the back of the room. It was darker in there, and I could barely see anything, but she reached into her bag again and took out a little flashlight.
“Shh! Not so loud, Mike. We’re not going to take anything.”
She approached the back wall of the alcove and shined the light on a painting hanging there. I walked over and stared at it with fascination. It was a portrait of an elderly woman, holding an empty bowl and it was beautifully rendered. The woman’s expression was so vivid that she looked like she was made of flesh and blood. I could even see the fine blue line of a vein under her thin skin.
I examined the painting as carefully as I could from my position, the brush strokes, the color palate… It certainly looked like a Reynolds, and not just any Reynolds, but one of the best I had ever seen. This painting was a contemporary masterpiece.
“Unbelievable,” I mumbled with awe.
“See, what I mean,” Caitlin asked triumphantly. “You recognize it, don’t you?”
“It definitely looks like your grandfather’s work,” I answered. “I’ve never seen this painting before, though.”
“Nobody has but me and the people who stole it.”
“You saw it before it was stolen? You could identify it?” I asked.
“Yes. And this is it. I’m positive. I remember seeing it in his studio.”
“Of course he knew, Beth! He was involved. He had to be.”
“How did you get the key to get in?” Mark asked suddenly.
“What difference does it make?” Caitlin asked. Suddenly, we heard a noise that sounded like someone talking just outside the door to the study. “We have to get out of here!”
She immediately took off for another window. Not having much choice, Mark and I followed. She opened it quickly and climbed through with us right behind her. As soon as we were on the porch, she pulled it closed and we all headed off in the dark.
Chapter Ten
Mark
Caitlin took off through the dark and Beth and I followed her. It was obvious, again, that she knew her way around more than the average party guest. When we got to the window where we had originally entered I confronted her.
“Okay, look,” I said, feeling very annoyed. “If that painting really is stolen, then your only choice is to go to the police and report it. Although, I think they’re probably going to want to know how you got a key to this place too.”
“If I go to the police something very bad could happen to me. If you guys can’t help me, I’ll just have to figure out some other way.” Then she opened the window and started to climb back through. “Are you coming or not?”