Rarities Unlimited 03 - Die in Plain Sight

raced upstairs, grabbed sheets from her bed and frantically began wrapping up the paintings. Clutching them awkwardly, she turned around and ran smack into Ian.
    “Give me those,” he snarled.
    It was a voice she’d never heard from him. “They’re Grandpa’s. I couldn’t let—”
    She was talking to herself. Ian had grabbed the paintings and was shouldering her out and down the stairs at a speed just short of break-neck. She turned for the back door of the shop, only to be yanked off her feet and shoved through the aisles of Lost Treasures Found toward the front door. She opened the locks automatically and stumbled out into the night, tripping over fear and grief. He caught her before she fell and hustled her across the street, upwind of the fire.
    “I’m all right,” she said numbly. “The fire—”
    “Will do just fine without you,” he cut in. “Stay here.”
    “Only if you do.”
    In the light of the streetlamp, he looked at her stubborn eyes and trembling lips and knew she would follow him the instant he turned his back.
    “We have maybe two minutes,” he said. “What do you want saved?”
    “Everything.” She smiled through tears. “Nothing. I have what’s important right here. All the rest can be replaced one way or another.”
    “Computer records?”
    “Duplicates in my car.”
    “Clothes?”
    “There are twelve garage sales this week.”
    “Your paintings?”
    She flinched. “More where they came from.”
    But her expression said it wasn’t true.
    “Guard these until I get back,” he said, pointing to the three canvases he’d put on the sidewalk.
    He ran back into the shop before she could argue. He couldn’t saveall her work, but he could rescue some of it. He snatched the painting drying on the easel, scooped up others at random until he couldn’t carry any more, and clattered back down the stairs and out the shop door.
    The night was alive with sirens and red lights and men yelling orders while laying hoses. He dumped the paintings at Lacey’s feet and turned to go get more before the cops who were screaming in from all sides could barricade the entrances.
    “No!” Lacey’s surprisingly strong hands clamped over Ian’s forearm, nails digging in.
    “There’s time.”
    “You’re worth more than a few paintings.”
    “There are more than a few paintings up there.”
    Her lips trembled into a smile. “You’re still worth more.”
    “Don’t tell the IRS.”
    Then he pulled her close and held her, just held her, while squad cars slammed to a stop and uniformed cops poured out. Two of them spotted the couple on the sidewalk and came toward them.
    Ian braced himself for the questions that would begin raining down. As he did, he wondered if the answers the cops eventually found would include who had started the fire.
    And why.

Newport Beach
    Early Friday morning
29
    T he ringing of his phone jerked Rory awake. Bliss, who was sprawled across him, grumbled sleepily and burrowed closer to his warmth. He reached around her and fumbled for his cell phone. Damn, getting older was a bitch. Once he would have awakened completely, mind and fingers nimble. Not anymore.
    “Yeah,” he muttered.
    “There’s a fire down in Newport.”
    “Jesus, Ward, what are you doing awake?”
    “You get to be my age, you spend a lot of time awake.”
    “Listening to the police radio,” Rory said, understanding what had happened.
    “Better than television.”
    With a sigh, Rory shifted beneath Bliss’s thighs. He couldn’t believehe was getting an erection—not after the last few nights. But damn, it felt good to have her pussy snuggled up to him.
    “You hear me?” Ward said irritably.
    “There’s a fire in Newport Beach, which is in Orange County, which wasn’t a part of Moreno County last time I checked.”
    “You didn’t have any trouble assigning men to cover Susa Donovan, did you, and she went to Orange County.”
    “What do you want me to do, drive down and pee on their fire?” Rory said impatiently.
    “I want you to get your well-paid ass out of my daughter’s bed and go see where the fire is.”
    Idly, Rory wondered how Ward had found out who was sleeping with Bliss. “Your daughter, my future wife.”
    There was a pause. Rory smiled. He could almost see the old man’s calculating frown.
    “When?” Ward demanded.
    “As soon as the blood tests come back.”
    Ward grunted. “Didn’t know she had the guts.”
    Rory didn’t bother to hide his yawn.