Distant Obsession (11 page)

They shared a legitimate laugh. “Good lord no. I hate lawyers almost as much as politicians.”

She loved his laugh, the way the dimple on his left cheek deepened.

 “I guess if anyone has the right to legal action, it’d be you, Lilah.”

“Me? What in the world for?”

He gave a playful shrug. “I think I went a little too far yesterday, spying on you through the window. I just wanted to know more about the talented woman that kept capturing my likeness on canvas.”

She frowned. “Yesterday? Sorry, I just don’t understand…”

“You know, when we kept writing paper notes to each other in the window, across the creek. I admitted I watched you come out of the shower,” he slapped his butt, “and you divulged admiring my ass through the binoculars. It was fun, and I confess, a little—shall I say bold, on both our parts.”

She stared at his lips as if he’d spoken gibberish. What could make him think…? Ashley. She had done this on purpose. Her sister had flirted outrageously with the man to force a meeting between herself and the pilot. Should she be grateful, embarrassed, or just plain pissed?

How far had Ashley gone with her enticements? That Reece had her confused with her sibling did not bode well for any future dealings with the man. Good lord. He must consider her a loose floozy at best. Did he think he could just waltz over, offer a few pretty lines and weasel his way inside? No way. She’d been that route before.

 “I have to go now, and I promise I won’t invade your privacy with my portraits ever again.” Her brittle tone should give him the hint. She stepped back and pulled the door closed.

“Wait a minute, Lilah. Come back, please.”

His words were muffled by the wooden slab. Lilah sank to the floor, her back against the door. She replayed the conversation over in her mind. Had she been too hard on the man? The heel of her palm connected with her forehead. “God, Lilah, why do you always over react?”

Because I’m scared.

She built up a depiction of the man in her mind that was beginning to be more than just a passing fancy.
And now that image had turned to a real, flesh and blood man.

As for Ashley, her sister would never do anything to intentionally hurt her. Lilah should be thankful the woman cared enough to do something as outrageous as teasing the man with flirtatious notes. Ashley had invited the pilot to visit, fully aware that Lilah would be the one answering the door.

“What a fool I am.” She’d blown her chance with Reece.

Quickly, she scrambled to her feet, threw wide the door, and rushed outside. “Reece!”

But he’d already left. Whatever happened now, she’d have to make the next move.

Twelve

Lilah got up super early a week later to work on a commissioned painting for a client who wanted the piece done for his wife’s birthday next week. She’d called it quits last night when she’d run out of cobalt violet, a costly pigment not found in most art supply stores. But as she’d drifted to sleep, Lilah remembered her old brief case.

She rummaged through the half used paints and clapped when she spied the color needed. As she reached behind a dented tube of cadium red, an envelope slipped from its hiding place. Curious, she pulled it free and held the item to the light. Something hard and square was inside the sealed wrapping, but there was no address to indicate to whom the item belonged.

“Lilah!”

She retrieved the cobalt violet, tossed the envelope back inside the case to examine later, then closed the lid. “In here.”

Ashley rounded the corner. “What are you doing on the floor?”

“Hunting for a special color.”

“You told me to alert you when it was six.
”
Ashley extended Lilah’s purse. “You’re going to be late.”

“Oh goodness.” She set the tube of paint on the easel, grabbed the purse, and dug for her keys. “Thanks. Can you make another pot of coffee while I start loading?”

Lilah had three new paintings to add to those already boxed and ready to cart out to the trailer. Thank goodness for Japanese dryer and her style of applying the paint in thin layers or her creations might still be too wet to sell. Two weeks had passed since her unfortunate encounter with Reece. She’d tried to paint one composition without the
Jenny May
, but the image fell flat so she started fresh, painting over the lake scene. Reece and his boat popped out on the surface with renewed vigor. Would he be upset if she continued to use him as her subject?

Somehow, Lilah had to make up for her prior curt behavior with the man. Perhaps he’d enjoy owning one of her paintings. Yes, that could work. She’d pick out one of her favorites, wrap it, and take it to his home. Surely, his cottage wouldn’t be hard to find. A Google search later could help her locate the address since she already knew the position on the lake.

In the meantime, she’d best concentrate on getting the work loaded. The third canvas slipped into the cardboard packing box with ease. After leaning it against the wall, she stepped out into the cool morning breeze and sprinted down the winding steps to her jeep. Backing the red beast up to the trailer presented no problems. Once she ascertained she was close enough, she put the car in park and went to the back. Unloaded, the trailer’s tongue slipped over the ball without difficulty. She hooked the safety chains, clamped down the locking mechanism, got back into the running jeep, and checked the brake lights. The routine procedure had become second nature.

She cut the engine, pocketed the key, and went around back to open the trailer doors.

“Need any help?” Ashley called, cradling a cup of coffee.

“Sure.” Lilah jogged toward the house.

“You seem in a hurry.”

“Not really. I always get excited before one of these festivals. Call it opening jitters.”

“But they’re just country gatherings. Not like a big New York affair.”

“True, but still…”

“You’re so weird.”

“Thanks, Sis. I love you, too.” Lilah swept past, giving her a lazy glance. “You might want to change.”

“Why? It’s Saturday morning.” She gave a clumsy bow. “I plan to stay in my PJs until at least noon.”

“Well, at least put some shoes on if you’re going to help load.”

Ashley gave a smart salute. “Aye, aye, sir.”

 Lilah didn’t wait for Ash to put on decent footwear. Fifteen boxes to cart single-handedly to the trailer would take time. While each box wasn’t heavy, they were awkward to handle, some being as large as twenty-four by thirty-six. Ash met her in the studio five minutes later and grabbed a piece to load. They packed all but one when the landline rang.

Ash nodded at the cardboard crate. “I’ll get the painting, you get the phone.”

Lilah nodded and answered the summons. “Hello.”

“Mrs. Randall?”

Her heart skipped a beat. The only folks calling her by that name were the media and the police. “Yes. This is she.”

“Care to comment on the recent information regarding your husband’s murder?” No introduction, no name, straight to the desired question.

Lilah fumed. “How did you get this number?”

Ashley stuck her head around the corner and mouthed, “Problem?”

A knock sounded at the door. Lilah waved Ashley away, indicating she should take care of the morning visitor. Voices sounded, the door clicked shut, and all was quiet except for the female reporter on the other end of the line.

“Mrs. Randall, I apologize. I got ahead of myself. This is Brandy Burns with the Midwestern Tribune. I just want our readers to have the full facts.”

I’m sure you do.

 
“Look. I really don’t have any comments at this time.”

“But the police no longer suspect you, right? They now think it was a hit.”

“I don’t know what the police suspect. You’ll have to contact them.”

“Mrs. Randall. Don’t hang up. I just want to get my facts straight before posting this story.” Irritation made the woman’s tone brittle.

“I appreciate you have a job to do, but I refuse to feed you information I don’t have. Have a nice day.” She tried not to slam the receiver into its cradle, but anger and frustration colored her actions.

The nerve of that woman.

How had she gotten wind of the possible hit man scenario? For that matter, how had she gotten her home, unlisted number?

She thought about the faxed photo she’d folded and slipped into her purse. Anxiety caused her breath to quicken and her heart to race. With the Asel Fruit Fest starting in two hours, she didn’t need the added stress. Several calming breaths eased her tense state. The festival would take her mind from unpleasant thoughts and put her in a better mood.

After a few more moments of silence, she went to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. The warm java slid down her throat, a satisfying crutch for the worries of the world. A quick glance at the clock caused her to hurry the pace. She still had to put on make-up and arrange her shoulder length hair in a ponytail.

At her vanity, a wide variety of cosmetics provided an array of colors. A bare minimum suited her best but still maintained an air of professionalism. The earthy blues set off her eyes while the salmon tinted blush added a pinch of warmth to her cheeks. A subtle pink lipstick finished off the soft, alluring look. She smiled, satisfied with her efforts.

She encountered Ashley as she grabbed her purse. “Who was at the door?”

“Scott.”

“Is he still here? I’d love to meet him.”

“No. He just stopped by to see if I still wanted to go on an outing with him.” Ashley rolled her eyes. “Men. He’s like a puppy with a new bone. Oh goodness.” Her eyes lit mischievously. “Whoops, that could be taken wrong, couldn’t it?”

It took Lilah a moment to catch on, but finally she laughed. “You’re so bad.”

“Aren’t I just?” Ashley giggled louder then sobered. “He was rather sweet though. Being mister macho man, he checked the trailer hook-up for you and pronounced everything in sound working order.”

“As if this mere woman can’t hook up a trailer by herself, but if it made him feel good, that’s fine.” Lilah fished her keys from her bag. “Are you going out with him, then?”

“Yep. We’re planning on a picnic Friday. He’ll pick me up before noon.”

“I’m glad for you.” She glanced at the kitchen clock. “Gotta run. I’ll be back around seven tonight.”

With her load in tow, the drive to Asel would take an hour, which would leave about the same for set-up. The booths opened at ten but she always liked having spare time prior to the milling crowds to get psyched for the coming event. She chose her favorite radio station and pulled out onto the main road.

Her mind wandered to Reece, again. Why he always crept into her thoughts no longer proved baffling. A mixture of guilt and pure lust seemed to control the recesses of her active imagination. How could she have screwed up such a perfect opportunity? She’d had two weeks to mull over her options for meeting the man. Giving him a painting seemed the best course of action, and she longed to put the idea into motion. After today’s show, she’d choose the best from one of the paintings left. Tomorrow, she’d deliver the gift and perhaps invite him to lunch.

Yes, that should be harmless enough.