Disconnecting, Sid parked in front of the grocery, thinking about everything Tara had said. How was she going to get the painting back? Shed never been one to push her luck and hitting the same house twice was more than risky, especially since now Laramie Cardwell might be expecting her. But did she really have a choice?
Her stomach growled. Still hungry and realizing it was almost lunchtime, she looked up the hill at the sign for Texas Boys Barbecue.
* * *
THE FAMILY HAD gathered at the Cardwell Ranch for lunch. Everyone but Laramie.
Whats going on with him? Austin asked. For years he had been the no-show brother, the one who caught grief because he didnt play family well. Since meeting Gillian and returning to his birthplace, hed changed. He loved these family get-togethers.
Hes looking for the cat burglar, McKenzie said. And the four of you can blame yourself for that if youre behind this.
What? Austin asked, looking around the table. Hayes told him what he knew, Hud added his part and McKenzie finished it up. Seriously? Laramie is trying to find this woman? He turned to Hayes. You told him we had nothing to do with this, right?
I swore we didnt.
Austin groaned. So he might actually be chasing a real cat burglar.
Only if the cat burglar is a young woman with silvery-blue eyes, Hud said, shaking his head. This whole cat burglar thing started when a few residents saw a dark-clad figure sneaking around a couple of houses. But the bottom line is that no one has reported being burglarized. No valuables or paintings are missing.
So you think its a hoax, Austin said.
I do, the marshal agreed. Probably the local security company put the woman up to it to drum up more business. A lot of the people in Big Sky are from urban areas so security is a concern for them. The rest of us locals dont even bother to lock our doors.
He told me he was going to visit the artist whose painting the woman dropped, McKenzie said between bites. Taylor West. He lives up the canyon near Taylor Fork.
Why didnt he come to us? Austin asked his brother Hayes. We are actually trained for this sort of thing. Hed gone to work for Hayess detective agency after quitting the sheriffs department in Texashe hadnt been satisfied being simply retired. Gillian had been right. Hed been miserable. He was too young to retire and he enjoyed investigative work.
Seriously? Dana asked. You dont understand why your brother might want to solve this thing on his own? It involves an apparently attractive woman who tricked him and escaped. Laramie is related to all of you. Enough said. He probably thinks shes in trouble and is off to save her.
They all laughed, but Austin couldnt shake the bad feeling he had.
I know that look in your eye, Gillian said to Austin. Dont do it.
Shes right, Jackson said speaking up. We need to stay out of this. I think Laramies been getting bored running the business. Why not let him have a little...fun, since there is nothing to the cat burglar stories?
They all agreed. Except Austin. Fun? What if this woman is dangerous?
Laramie can take care of himself, Hayes said. He hasnt just been sitting behind a desk for the past ten years. Hes worked with some of us on cases. I think Jacksons right. He needs this and he needs us to stay out of it.
Austin couldnt help being protective of his youngest brother. While he and Hayes had both worked in law enforcement, Laramie had no experience dealing with criminals.
I hope youre right, Austin said as he watched his family finish their lunches. Still, he couldnt shake the feeling that Laramie had no idea what he was getting into.
For the time being, hed stay out of it since, if Hud was right, it had been nothing but a prank. But if a woman was involved...
Chapter Four
Artist Taylor West was a tall drink of water. At least thats how Laramie had seen him described on his website. The man who opened the door at the West home was tall. Hed aged, though, since hed put his photo on his website. Laramie guessed he must be in his sixties and had once been very handsome. The gray hair at his temples gave him a distinguished look, but his complexion told the story of a man who drank too much.
I dont usually meet clients at my home, West said, looking put out.
Laramie was glad he hadnt called ahead. This was a matter that couldnt wait. A photograph on the wall behind the man caught Laramies attention. It was of Taylor with a pretty young green-eyed blonde. He was staring at the photo more intently than he realizedespecially at the eyes. Could this be the woman hed tackled last night? She looked the right size but the eye color was wrong.
My wife, Jade, West said.
Laramie blinked in surprise. Given the age difference between the artist and the woman in the photo, he would have thought it was Wests daughter.
Wests gaze went to the painting Laramie was holding in one hand. Is that one of mine? He sounded like a man worried that Laramie had come here to complain.
Thats what Id like to know. I promise not to take any more of your time than necessary.
What makes you think its mine? West asked.
Because it has your name on it. He didnt mention that the so-called expert at the gallery had authenticated it.
Well, fine, come on in out of the cold. This shouldnt take long. He didnt look less perturbed, but he did step back to let Laramie in.
But that was as far as the invitation was extended. Standing in the entryway of the house, Laramie uncovered the painting and handed it to the artist. Past West, he could see that the house was a huge mess. So where was the young wife?
West looked at it and said, I dont see what the problem is, and started to hand it back.
So its yours? Laramie asked.
Obviously, the artist said with impatience.
Then there is a problem. He told him about the one that Theo Nelson owned, the one that had been authenticated. How do you explain that?
One of them must be a forgery since I only painted one.
And youre sure this one is the original?
West snatched the painting from him and with a curse headed down a hallway. Laramie followed, stepping over boots and shoes, jackets, dirty socks and assorted dog toys.
The cleaning crew comes tomorrow, West said over his shoulder before turning into what was obviously his studio. It, too, was in disarray.
Laramie suspected the man didnt have anyone to clean the house. Or the young wife to do so, either, for that matter.
West snapped on a lamp and put the painting under it. Where did you get this?
I picked it up recently.
Nelson is right. If he has the original, then this one isnt mine, West said.
Are you sure? Clearly he wasnt. I should tell you that before I came here, I took the painting to a local expert, Laramie said. He confirmed it was yours and offered me thirty thousand for it.
The artists eyes widened in surprise. The original is worth over fifty.
Just as Laramie had suspected. But the question is, which is the original?
West swore. If this is a forgery, its a really good one. The man was frowning at the artwork, clearly angry and also seeming confused.
Ive looked at both. They appear identical. So if you didnt paint the copy, then who did?
The artist shook his head. How would I know? He was upset now.
It would take some talent, wouldnt it?
West sighed impatiently. Sure, but
Otherwise, youre saying any art student could copy your paintings?
I see what youre getting at, the older man said angrily. Yes, it takes talent. A lot of talent. They would have had to have studied their craft and have some natural ability, as well. Also they would have had to study my work. Not just anyone could make a reproduction this good.
So has this person been hiding under a rock, or is it someone you know?
West seemed shocked by the question. It couldnt possibly be anyone I know.
Why not? I would think the cowboy art market is very small. It must also be competitive. There cant be that many of you painting at this level, right?
The artist nodded. There are only twenty of us in the OWAC. Seeing Laramies quizzical expression, he elaborated. The Old West Artists Coalition.
Laramie considered that. Only twenty? That sounds like a pretty eliteand competitivegroup.
Were all friends. We encourage and support each other. The only competition is with ourselves to get better.
But some of you must make more money than others, he prodded. Who is the best paid of this group of cowboy artists?
West met his gaze with an arrogant one. I am, but there are several others who do quite well.
And youre telling me there is no jealousy? Laramie scoffed at that. He knew too well, being one of five brothers, that competition was in male DNA. So who are the others who are doing quite well?
Cody Kent and Hank Ramsey, in that order. Rock Jackson quite a ways behind those two.
Laramie couldnt help but laugh. Just the fact that West knew that proved he at least had a competitive spirit. So what exactly does this group do?
I told you. We support each other. We came together because of a desire to keep this art form alive in memory of the greats like the late Frederic Remington and Charles M. Russell. But also to ensure the work is an authentic representation of Western life. Without standards of quality and a respect for each other and the work... He sounded as if he was quoting the groups bylaws.
And you belong to this group?
Im one of its founders along with Rock, Hank and Cody Kent, he said proudly.
Laramie had heard something in the mans tone. What does it take to be a member?
You have to apply. The members decide if your work and your character meet our standards.
Your standards?
Originally, you had to have cowboy experience as well as talent. Thats changed some. Why are you asking me all this? West demanded.
Laramie wasnt sure. So its an exclusive...club.
None of my fellow artists would have any reason to rip me off by duplicating my work, if thats what youre getting at, West said. Not to mention, most of them dont have the talent to copy my work.
Laramie tried not to smile. No competition here.
Look, West said as if he knew hed said too much. There arent that many of us. Were a dying breed of artists who care about our work. The satisfaction comes from painting and selling our own worknot copying someone elses and passing it off for money.
Even if they needed money badly? Laramie asked.
He saw something change in Wests expression as if the question had made him think of someone. Laramie knew money could be the most obvious reason for making forgeries of Taylor Wests work. Or maybe to rub Wests arrogant face in it.
West picked up the painting, frowning harder as he studied it again. This is definitely the original, he said, but he seemed to lack conviction.
If no one in your group is talented enough to make you question if this painting is yours or not...
Im telling you, West snapped, theres no one alive who could have copied my work well enough to fool an expert, let alone me.
Laramie thought that was a ridiculous statement given that someone obviously had, and he said as much.
West suddenly looked even more upset. There is one man, the artist said after a moment. Hed paled. H. F. Powell.
Where would I find him?
West didnt seem to hear him for a moment. He shook his head as if clearing away cobwebs from his brain. Find him? His laugh was more of a grunt. Six feet under, last I checked.
* * *
TEXAS? SO THAT was Laramie Cardwells accent, Sid thought. The barbecue restaurant had opened in Big Sky Meadows just last year. Shed heard it was owned by five brothers from Houston. Since she didnt get out muchat least during the daythat had been all Sid knew about the place.
Good sense told her to go into the store, buy some food and take it back to the cabin. The sooner she got home, the sooner she could get ready for tonight. Last nights close call was a good reminder that she needed to finish this and move on.
But barbecue sounded good. More than anything, she was curious. She quickly shopped for what groceries she needed, telling herself she would get a barbecue sandwich to go. She knew she was taking a risk, but then again, shed been taking risks for some time now. Putting the groceries into the back of her SUV, she walked quickly up the hill to Texas Boys Barbecue on the recently plowed sidewalk. The sun glistening off the snow was almost blinding. It was one of those clear, cold winter days in Big Sky when she could see her breath as she walked. She looked up at Lone Mountain, momentarily stunned by how beautiful it was this morning.
Sometimes she got so busy she forgot to notice what an amazing place this was. Once she was done with all of this, maybe she would take a few weeks off and snowboard up on the mountain. She deserved it after this.
A bell jangled over the door as she entered the restaurant. It was early so the place was busy but not packed, and there were enough people that she didnt think she would stand out. Not that she believed Laramie Cardwell could recognize her.
The aroma of smoked meat filled the air, making her stomach growl again. Slipping into a booth, she pulled out a menu from behind an array of barbecue sauces with names like Hot in Houston and Sweet and Spicy San Antonio.
Shed just opened it when she heard a male voice with a distinct Southern accent coming from the kitchen. Looking up she saw a head of dark hair. The man was talking to another man with the same accent. As the first man turned, she realized he wasnt the one from last night, but the resemblance gave her a start even before she laid eyes on the second man.
It was him!
Suddenly, as if sensing her staring at him, he glanced in her direction. Sid quickly ducked behind her menu as a young waitress approached her booth.
What can I get you? asked a teenaged girl with a ponytail and an order pad.
Ill try the pulled pork sandwich with beans and coleslaw, Sid said from behind her menu. Can I get that to go?
Great choice. What would you like to drink? the girl asked.