Page 117 of Burning Caine

While she was gone, the suspicious voice in my head reminded me of a bonus question. “Are you familiar with Parker’s Restoration?”

“That’s, uh, my dad’s company.”

“Do you work for him?”

“No. He had to let a bunch of people—”

His mother returned with the invoice, interrupting. “Olivia Scott.”

One more lie from Antonio. It hadn’t been Bobby. Or maybe he’d been guessing Thursday. No, it was most likely a lie. I turned to Lucy, whose jaw went slack.

“Could you say that clearly for the recording, please? Who commissioned Cam-ron to create an exact copy of Marc Chagall’sLes amoureux dans le ciel?”

“Olivia Scott did, Ms. Caine. She paid Cam-ron twenty thousand dollars for a duplicate of the painting you named. The order specified the dimensions and that there be no obvious differences between the original and the copy.” She offered the invoice to Lucy, who took pictures of it.

I continued, “That didn’t seem at all suspicious to you?”

“Suspicious? No. She said they were putting the original into storage and wanted the copy to keep on their walls. Something about insurance costs.”

It was a fair answer. The practice was common. But they hadn’t called Foster to reduce their rates, so it was clearly another lie.

Chapter 46

Samantha

Lucyclimbedinsidethetruck, but I sank onto the running board. Antonio’s face that morning. The deep purple bruise marring half his cheek, the red-rimmed eyes, the slump in his normally perfect posture. The weight on my chest made it hard to breathe. I leaned my head back on the door, closing my eyes and pointing my face to the sun.

My heart weeps.Oh god, so did mine. Everything was so perfect, right up until his father’s announcement. Life was coming together. I could have had a future in Brenton, watched my niece and nephew grow up, and built something with Antonio.

Instead, all I wanted to do was leave. Pack up the RV, hitch it to the truck, and I was gone. I wouldn’t be here when he got back. I’d move on. He’d move on.

But I couldn’t. I had to stay for Cass. All I wanted to do was run from everything, but for once, I couldn’t.

“So, Olivia Scott paid for an exact duplicate of the painting to be made,” said Lucy when I joined her in the truck cab. “That proves she knows it’s a fake. She didn’t alert Foster before the claim, or after. So, that’s insurance fraud. Case closed. Right?”

“Right! Cam-Ron didn’t put a signature on it, so I’m betting one of the Scotts did. Let’s take this to Janelle, then we’ll show Cliff.”

Once the truck’s engine was roaring, my phone rang, and I put it through the truck’s audio system.

“Sam! It’s Mike from work. I need a favor.” He sounded like he was in a hurry.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m running behind on my site visits today. Cliff said your schedule was open. Can you help a guy out?”

I grinned at Lucy. Mike did leave the office on occasion, after all. “Yeah, what do you need?”

“Hold on.” His footsteps stopped, and my phone buzzed. “Can you make that address in a half hour?”

I checked the GPS on my phone. “Yeah, we can.”

“Vandalism at a property on the river. I’ll assign it over to you. Thanks.”

“No problem.” I hung up and frowned. “I guess we’ll head to the police after this.”

I turned the truck off, and we moved to the backseat office to log into the claims system. I read the highlights of the First Notice of Loss to Lucy. “House on the river…paintball splatters on the steps and small dock…Seems pretty simple. We’ll take care of that, then head to the police station.”

I printed out the claim documents, and Lucy collected them, tucking them in a folder from the filing box at her feet.