He Will be My Ruin
Page 84

 K.A. Tucker

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
“You have to find him.”
Doug squeezes my shoulder. “And you have to get on that plane tomorrow morning and spend whatever time you have left with Celine’s mother. There’s nothing more you can do here.”
“You’re right.” Soon, I’ll be away from this city and this never-ending fucking nightmare. As much as I want the police to find Grady, I’ve done what I intended to do, which was get them to reopen the investigation.
Now it’s time for me to be home with Rosa. I still haven’t decided what I’m going to tell her. There’s really no good news yet. No your daughter didn’t kill herself announcement. But there’s at least doubt now in everyone’s mind, and enough motive pointing toward Grady. Doug no longer looks at me with that sympathetic smile.
Hans storms toward us, his steps swift and purposeful, his suit plum-colored and stylish. “Finally!” He blows air kisses before I know what’s happening, and then turns his attention to Doug, eying him up and down with the same look of disdain that he gave me that first day we met at Celine’s.
“And on that note,” Doug glances around a sea of formal wear—Hans insisted on a black tie event in Celine’s honor—and smooths his bomber jacket over his chest. “Enjoy the warmth of California. I’ll be in touch with any updates.”
I smile. “Thanks for everything, Doug.” Watching him leave, I call out, “And tell Zac to stay out of my business. It’s not right what he can do.”
A backward wave answers me and then Doug is gone, and Hans is thrusting a champagne flute into my hand and linking arms with me. He pulls us into the fray of antique lovers and partygoers and people who generally have too much time and money on their hands. There are quite a few of them.
“Celine would have loved this,” I murmur, a lump forming in my throat. I wash it down with three sizeable gulps of my drink.
“Can you believe she had enough to fill the entire gallery, and then some?”
“Yes, I can.” I laugh, taking a sip of my champagne. “I packed it all, remember?”
“It’s a shame about that vase. I was so sure that if she thought it was something, then it definitely was . . . She always kept her expectations low when it came to her treasure hunts, and I don’t know how she could have mistaken cookie-cutter shit.” He tsks. “She had a better eye than that. She must not have been thinking straight.”
“I know.”
Much to our disappointment, the vase found in Grady’s closet was a reproduction of the famous Qing Dynasty twin vase.
And not a very good one, at that.
But the pieces that are here tonight are stunning. Hans obviously spent a lot of time going through Celine’s collection and hand-selecting the best ones to include. Now, as we move past each and every display, Hans gives me the CliffsNotes version of its history as I polish off two more glasses of champagne.
“Her collection belongs in one of the top auction houses in New York, doesn’t it?” I murmur.
“The top auction house,” he corrects me, “and yes. It does. She always had a special eye. You could see it, just by walking into her apartment. It was like walking into an art studio. Trust me, I’ve gone into plenty of antique shops, and with that many pieces, it usually feels like walking into a shed of random castaways that I want to run screaming from. But with Celine, she managed to amass a collection of a thousand pieces, each one hand-selected for its historical value and beauty, and then turn her apartment into a masterpiece that you could sit back and enjoy. She wasn’t just a collector, she was a curator.”
He’s right. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but Celine’s apartment was a piece of art in and of itself.
Hans gestures toward the middle of the gallery, drawing my attention to the elderly couple arm-in-arm. Ruby spots me and grins, patting the hand of the white-haired man I recognize from the ball. They slowly shuffle over.
“Hans, you’ve outdone yourself! Celine would love this,” she exclaims, grabbing Hans by the arms until he leans in for a kiss on her cheek.
“How long have you been here?”
“Oh, awhile, but you two looked like you were having so much fun, we didn’t want to disturb you.” She gestures to her date. “This is the Honorable Theodore Higgins.”
“Just Teddy,” the man chuckles, shaking our hands.
“We’re going to head out now. Theodore needs his rest, and I’m quite tired after all the excitement we’ve had going on recently.”
“Yes, Ruby filled me in,” Theodore says, frowning deeply. “If there’s anything at all I can help with, let me know. I may be retired, but I still have plenty of connections.”
I smile. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Theodore makes his way to the coat check, while Ruby takes both my hands in hers. “So? I suppose this is it?”
“Until I fly out here for some afternoon tea,” I promise, wrapping my arms around the tiny, frail woman, a sheen of tears forming over my eyes that I quickly try to blink away.
She has a surprising grip and squeezes me tight. “You are quite the character, Maggie Sparkes,” she whispers, winking at me as she goes to join her date.
“Oh shit.” Hans groans, pulling my attention back to him and the sharp-looking middle-aged woman in a suit waving him down from across the room. “I’ve gotta go, too. That’s the boss. I need to kiss her ass for letting us do this.”
“And she can kiss my ass for paying for it,” I mumble under my breath, earning that high-pitched, awkward laughter of his. “Listen, I’m probably going to head back to my hotel now. My flight in the morning is early, and I’m practically asleep on my feet. And drunk, I think.”
“Oh.” He turns his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “So this is it for us, too?”
“I know you’re not the hugging type. Neither am I.” I wrap my arms around him anyway. “Thank you for everything.” When he pulls away, I’m surprised to see his eyes are shining.
“I’ll call you,” he promises.
I laugh. “No you won’t.”
“Fine. But I’ll text. Maybe. Once in a while.”
I smile and wave good-bye as he trots off to answer the director’s request, abandoning me in front of Celine’s doll collection.