Page 83 of Burning Caine

“Alright. Sofia, the woman I was supposed to be going with, is his sister. She set us up. He and I both thought we were going with her. But, I had a great evening with him. I like him, Cass. A lot. Enough it’s freaking me out. And you guys coming down on me isn’t helping.”

“Really?” Her agitation faded into surprise.

“Yeah, really.”

“What about The Train Station?”

The hand over my face dropped as I stared in the direction he’d driven off. “I can’t tell you how many times he asked me out and I said no. So, yeah, he heard me talking to Nathan about going there and he showed up, hoping to make a good impression on my family.”

“Family?”

“Yeah.” I laughed; it sounded so stupid. “I called him Uncle Nathan on the phone. Listen, I’m working all evening tonight, but I’ll come over tomorrow after work, okay? Give you the full details?”

“You sure he’s safe?”

“Yeah.” For everything but my heart.

“What about the near fistfight?”

“Seriously, Cass.” I put my hand on the truck door. “You know how Nathan is. He started it.”

She sighed heavily. “I don’t want you to get hurt again, sweetie.”

“Me, either. But sometimes you need to take a chance, right? I haven’t since Matt. Isn’t that what you were trying to convince me to do?”

“Alright. I’ll reserve judgement for now.”

I hung up and climbed back into the truck.

Lucy put a hand on the center console. “She one of the reasons you said no to him?”

“My sister’s a bit much.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, doubtful.

I grinned and turned on the engine, appreciating she knew the answer.

“What do you think?” Lucy leaned on the center console as we pulled out for the short drive back to Foster Mutual. “A secret buyer wanting to pay that much money was interesting.”

“Yeah, someone out there with a lot of money wanted it. Badly. It’s possible the Scotts found out who was offering the money for it and sold it after it left the gallery to keep the sale secret. Or someone had the resources to steal the original and leave a copy—”

My phone rang again. Janelle. I ran it through the truck’s audio system.

“Hey, Janelle. It’s Sam and my partner Lucy. Got anything for me on break-ins at the Scott residence?”

“You know your stuff, Sam. Yes, they had a break-in and theft in July 2015—”

I hit the steering wheel. “Dammit!”

“What?”

Lucy said, “The painting was still in Paris in July.”

“That the only break-in you’ve got, Janelle?”

“Yeah, sorry, Sam. You have any other news on your end?”

“Did you hear about the auction on Saturday?”