Framed Shadows: Shadows Landing #6 Kathleen Brooks (summer beach reads .TXT) 📖

5

How the hell did Tinsley Faulkner have the Castille painting stolen from the Havish house he was still standing in? The Havish family had been called and given a tour of the house over videoconference. They confirmed that some jewelry and a Castille painting were missing. When Paxton stopped the Myriad member, he’d saved a million-dollar painting by Soulages from being stolen.

Paxton gunned the FBI SUV he’d taken from Peter out of Sullivan’s Island. It wasn’t only to get to Tinsley quickly because of his case. Last night Paxton had dreamt of nothing but her. What freaked him out was the fact they weren’t lust-filled dreams. Well, some parts of them were, but the majority of his dreams had them in a relationship. He dreamed of them snuggled up on the couch, of him watching her paint, of him being . . . romantic. Then came the lust-filled part of the dream right before he woke up.

Honestly, he didn’t know what to make of it. Then he’d heard Tinsley’s gleeful voice saying she had the painting he was looking for, and he knew the man who stole it had probably been with her. Now his body and mind demanded he get to her immediately.

So he drove as fast as he could and only when he saw her through the gallery windows was he able to calm down. Paxton’s breath caught in his throat when Tinsley’s eyes locked on his through the windows and she smiled. He wanted her all for himself. He wanted to be the only one she smiled at in that way.

Now was not the time for his demanding side to come out. No, he wouldn’t do that to Tinsley. First, she was just too sweet to be with someone like him. She’d probably run screaming from the room if he told her a quarter of the things he wanted to do with her. Second, even if he could be abrasive at times, he wasn’t an asshole. He would never purposely hurt a woman. He wasn’t going to be in Charleston much longer, if he had his way, and the last thing he wanted to do was lead Tinsley on about a possible relationship then hurt her when he transferred back to Atlanta. Too bad his libido wasn’t listening to his brain.

Paxton headed into the gallery to find Tinsley practically bouncing from foot to foot. He wanted to groan with frustration because she was so freaking beautiful. She was practically glowing with excitement.

“What did the man look like who came in here?” Paxton demanded. Fear that he was still nearby or that it could be someone who had recognized him from his undercover work made the question come out harsher than he intended.

“About this tall,” Tinsley said, holding up her hand to indicate his height, which was a good six inches taller than the man at the Havish house. “Clean cut. His hair was black and tightly trimmed to frame his face. No facial hair. Business casual dress. Oh, and he drove a luxury sedan, but I didn’t get the plate number.”

Definitely not the same man from earlier in the day. The painting must have been handed off to this man and the jewelry to another. Both would then be sold immediately to increase the chance of getting money before a police report could be filed.

“Here it is.” Tinsley moved aside as she pointed to the Castille painting behind her.

“Tell me everything,” Paxton demanded as they stood in front of the painting.

Tinsley told him about Maurice, the sick grandmother, and the fact she’d seen him pull this act before with a Hamburg in Charleston. “Did Ellery sell the Hamburg?”

Tinsley shook her head. “He didn’t have any papers and Ellery went into labor. I don’t know what happened to it.”

Paxton turned his phone around. “Was it this one?”

“Yeah, how did—it’s stolen, right?” Tinsley was bouncing again from foot to foot as she put the pieces together.

“Yeah, it hasn’t been seen since March. Now, please tell me you got a phone number or something for this guy.”

Tinsley reached down onto her desk and handed him a bunch of papers. “I got all of his information. Though I don’t know if any of it’s legit. I have copies of the fake power of attorney for this sick grandmother, but more importantly, I got the original faked provenance. And the best part? I set myself up as his art dealer for the stolen goods. I’m the inside woman!”

Paxton’s head shot up from where he was reviewing the documents. “No.”

“Yes! It’s perfect. Maybe I can recover all of the stolen art.”

Paxton felt nerves fire warning signals all through his body. “This isn’t a game, Tinsley. I just came from a shootout with the man who is probably working with this Maurice guy. Just because it’s stolen art and not drugs doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous. You’ve done a great job, but now it’s time for you to sit at home and let me do my thing.”

He saw her hands go to her hips as she stopped bouncing from foot to foot. “Excuse me? Did you just tell me to go home and twiddle my thumbs while the men take care of this?”

“Did you miss the part where I just had a shootout and had to kill someone? Plus, if you were at my home, the last thing you’d be doing is twiddling your thumbs.” Crap, he was losing it. She flushed red and Paxton had to take a breath because that came out way too suggestive. “It’s dangerous, Tinsley. I want to protect you. That’s all.”

“That’s not all you want.”

Paxton groaned and Tinsley sputtered.

“That’s not what I meant!” Tinsley’s hands were back on her hips and her face was cherry-red, but she wasn’t backing down. “I meant you don’t think I’m strong enough to pull this off. Well, screw you. I am. I’m not sweet little Tinsley. Well, I am, but I’m so much more than