Rarities Unlimited 03 - Die in Plain Sight

gray-haired artist who wasn’t any man’s idea of an angel.
    Rory laughed without humor. “Yeah. They weren’t happy to know that not only had Marten escaped, he’d followed the sheriff when he drove Three home from a party and seen them push Three’s car into the ravine, then set fire to everything. They paid for the painting of Three’s death, of course. Numbered overseas account.”
    “And they sweated,” Lacey said, smiling narrowly, “each time a new painting came with another demand. Grandfather liked that better than the money he got, though he liked the money well enough.”
    “Don’t expect me to admire the bastard,” Rory said.
    “I don’t.”
    “Talk about chutzpah,” Rory said. “Selling his own unsigned paintings to greedy gallery owners.”
    “It almost got him killed,” Ian pointed out.
    “That’s how Ward managed to track him down a few years ago,” Lacey said, “through the galleries the Forrests patronized. Each time a Marten turned up, Ward got the first call. When Ward got too close, Granddad decided it was time to get out.”
    “How did Quinn walk away from his truck in the desert and survive without the searchers finding him?” Rory asked. “Or did he tell you?”
    Lacey’s eyes closed. She didn’t like remembering how hollow she’d felt when she was told her grandfather was dead.
    “He staged the scene near a dirt bike trail,” Ian said. “Then he took a bike out of his truck and rode off. It was a tough five miles to the next road, but he made it.”
    “Chutzpah.” Rory shook his head and looked at Lacey. “Savoy wants to know if you’re going to make any claim on the ranch.”
    “All I want from Savoy Enterprises is freedom for me, my grandfather, and Susa Donovan to paint here before it’s all paved over.”
    “You’ve got it. And it won’t all be paved over.”
    “You sound certain,” she said.
    “I am,” Rory said. “Bliss and Savoy both decided that they couldn’t change the past, but they could take a stab at the future. They’ll be negotiating with a nature conservancy as soon as the estate is settled. They decided to turn over all the ranch land from the ocean to the ridgeline.”gestured toward the steep hills rising behind them. “The land on the far side will be sold off as quickly as buyers are found. Savoy Ranch is as dead as Ward Forrest.”
    Rory gave the blackmailing artist a long, hard look before he turned and went back to his vehicle. A door opened, closed, and the white SUV drove off, leaving Lacey and Ian standing on the bluff where history, beauty, and murder tangled as deeply as light and shadow.
    Silently she put her right arm around Ian and leaned against him. He slid his left arm around her and pulled her even closer. They watched as light changed from rich gold to glowing orange. Shadows slid out of the ravines and licked over the rumpled land that fell away to the sea. Eucalyptus trees whispered darkly as fragments of light tangled within their leaves.
    When the last burning ember of sun slipped beneath the indigo sea, Ian tipped up Lacey’s chin with his cast and kissed her softly. “We better get your grandpa packed up. Your parents are waiting.”
    “I still can’t believe you agreed to drive all the way to Pasadena for dinner.”
    “It beats having a dead artist staying with us at a killer’s hotel.” Ian still hadn’t forgiven her grandfather for the pain he’d caused by not telling her that he was alive. And for leaving her the paintings that had almost gotten her killed. “I’m figuring on parking the old reprobate with your parents, grabbing you, and beating feet for the foothills of Upland.”
    “You’re kidnapping me?”
    “Now you’re talking. I’m keeping you, too. But don’t worry. My future mother-in-law promised that she’d take care of every detail of the wedding all by herself.”
    Lacey’s breath broke. “Wedding? When did I agree to that?”
    “When I agreed to let you paint me any old way you wanted to, any old time you wanted.”
    “Oh. Then.” She looked him up and down and her smile flashed in the twilight. “Yeah, that’ll work.”
    “What are you thinking?” he asked warily.
    “Racing stripes.”
    “Green?”
    “Peppermint.”
    “The color or a flavor?”
    She licked her lips. “Good idea.”
    “I’ve got lots of good ideas.”
    “I’ve got lots of paint.”
    He gave her a slow, I-can’t-wait smile. “I’m frightened.”
    “Yeah. Right. And I’m still