“Okay, Josie,” Alverez said, unsmiling. “I get it. I was thoughtless. I apologized once and I meant it. I’m sorry. Can we move on now?”
Stop, I reminded myself. Breathe. Think. I took a deep breath and turned to Max. He was watching me with compassionate eyes. I looked out of the window. The tall grass that dotted the dunes waved in the light breeze. My anger dissipated as suddenly as it had arisen, leaving me spent. I felt exhausted and emotionally raw. Taking a deep breath, I looked at Alverez and smiled a little, a nonverbal offer of detente. His stern demeanor eased in response.
I felt awkward, uncertain what to do or say next. One emotion after another washed over me-the fatigue that had eclipsed my fury now gave way to an almost giddy volatility. I smiled again, broadly this time. Alverez smiled back, and I found myself admiring the flecks of gold that glistened in the brown of his eyes. His eyes were hypnotic, drawing me in. After a long minute, Max cleared his throat and the mood was broken. I looked away. “Sorry about that,” I said. “I guess this situation has made me a little emotional. I don’t normally rant like a fishwife.”
Alverez smiled. “It wasn’t so bad. I’ve been called worse than insensitive.”
“Really? Like what?”
Alverez smiled and shook his head slightly. “That’ll be a topic for another time, if you don’t mind,” he said, shifting in his chair.
“So,” I asked, pleased at his obvious discomfort, “what made you realize I wasn’t guilty?”
“That too can be covered later. We have something important to discuss now, if that’s all right.”
“Sure. What?”
“The reason I asked you to come in is to ask for your help. We’ve reached a point in the investigation where we need an expert.”
“An expert in?…” Max asked.
“Appraisals.”
“Why Josie?”
“She’s the logical choice. We can bring in an outside expert if we have to, but my plan is more likely to work if Josie will help us.
“What do you need?”
Alverez cleared his throat and idly tapped his pen against the wooden table. “A couple of things. First, what do you know about the Renoir? I mean, according to Mrs. Grant’s ledger, the three paintings, the Renoir, the Matisse, and the Cezanne were all bought from someone or something called A.Z. Do you know what, or who, that is?”
“One second,” Max said to Alverez, reaching out his hand to stop me from speaking. He leaned over toward me and whispered, “Do you know what it means?”
“No,” I whispered back.
“Do you know anything about the paintings.”
I paused, then decided to tell Max the truth. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
“What?”
“It’s complicated.”
Max straightened up, glanced at the recorder, the red light indicating it was on, and said, “Josie and I need to consult for a moment. We’ll step outside and walk a little, if that’s all right.”
“Sure,” Alverez said, narrowing his eyes. “But you can stay here. I’ll leave the room, like I did before.”
“I’d just as soon stretch my legs,” Max answered.
Alverez shrugged and hit the Off button. “Let me know when you’re ready to resume.”
Max and I walked across the street and stepped up onto the sandy dunes. I picked up a flat gray rock and hurled it toward the ocean. Clouds were rolling in from the west, white-topped waves rippling the ocean’s surface. Max stretched and bent down.
“That’s a relief, huh?” he asked, standing upright.
I choked on sudden tears. “You have no idea.” I grasped his upper arm and leaned my forehead against his sleeve. “Thank you, Max.”
He reached over and patted my shoulder. “Sure, Josie. I don’t know that anything I did had anything to do with anything, but it’s a pleasure to work with you.”
I smiled as best I could given that I was still feeling emotional. My tears gradually abated, and I turned toward the sea. The salty air smelled fresh. I stood up, my smile broader, my confidence returning. “How come you wanted to come outside?” I asked.
“Well, I wanted to make the point that we could. This time, we aren’t here for an interrogation. You’re being asked to do a favor.”
I smiled. “Wow, that’s right, isn’t it?”
He shrugged, and looked mildly embarrassed. “I wanted to crow a little.”
I tapped his shoulder and smiled again.
Max smiled back. “So,” he said, “talk to me.”
“I’ve researched all three paintings. They were stolen from Jewish families before or during World War II. The Matisse disappeared from a small museum on the Mediterranean. The other two were taken by the Nazis.”
“My God,” Max said, turning to look at me, shock registering on his face.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding, responding to his overall reaction, not only his words. “I know. It’s horrible. I think that’s why Mrs. Cabot hired me. I think her daughter, Andi, who’s an immoral shrew, by the way, would make it impossible for her mother to return the paintings to their rightful owners. But if I find them, and announce the discovery publicly, well, Mrs. Cabot will have no choice.”
He nodded. “Makes sense.”
“Here’s the thing. I’ve found them.”
“What?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Where are they?”
“I’ve got them safe.”
After a pause, Max asked, “So why haven’t you brought them forward?”
I looked away, turning to focus on the ocean as I struggled to get my jumbled thoughts in order. “I’m not sure. Two reasons, I guess. First, I thought I ought to hold on to them in case I needed to use them to clear my name. And don’t ask how they’d help me do that, Max, because I don’t know. I don’t have a plan. I just knew those paintings could somehow be an ace in the hole.” I shrugged. “Or, they might be. It’s the only thing I know that no one else does. Knowing their location is, somehow, an insurance policy.”
“What’s the other reason?”
“I need to tell Mrs. Cabot first. I just found them. And today’s her father’s funeral. It seems too awful to tell her today. I just couldn’t do it.”
Max touched my arm again. “You’re a good egg, Josie.”
“A good egg?”
He smiled. “What else?”
“That’s it.”
“Where are they now?”
For some reason, I didn’t want to reveal their location, but I couldn’t justify not doing so. Max was my lawyer, after all. For reasons I didn’t understand, I stayed vague. “In Mr. Grant’s house. I moved them from one secret spot to another.”
He didn’t prod further. Instead, he asked, “How certain are you that someone else won’t find them wherever it is you’ve hidden them?”
“No one but me has access to the house right now, and I’ve arranged it so none of my staff will go near them.”
“I don’t like it, Josie. I think we ought to tell Alverez the truth, and let him take custody of them. Your exposure, your potential liability, if something happens to them, even, God forbid, a fire, is too great.”
I nodded. I hadn’t considered that aspect of the situation before. He was right. “There’s one more thing,” I said, looking down, not really ashamed, but feeling awkward that money came into my reckoning.
“What’s that?”
“There’ll be a reward. It was posted on a Web site. I found them, so I want it. If I turn them over to the police, I’ll lose my claim.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll make certain you’re covered.”
I couldn’t think of any reason not to do as he recommended. “Okay, then.”
“You ready to go back in?”
“Are you sure I should tell him everything?”
He squeezed my arm again. “Yes. I’ll protect your rights.”
Alverez looked somber. His eyes were dark and intent. His manner was serious, even grave. He’d asked if we were ready to resume, Max said we were, and suddenly, the tape recorder light was red, indicating, that once again a record of our conversation was being created.
“Josie has a statement to make.”