Tell Me Something Good (22 page)

“This is a beautiful room. In fact, it’s my
dream sun room.” Lyrissa gazed at the gauze draperies pulled back
from the windows. The room was cozy without being too cute.

“Thank you, sugar. Glad you like it. Ah!
Here’s one of the figures you wanted to see.”

Lyrissa smiled at her genuinely. She liked
Vic despite her ditzy manner. At least she could finish the day in
lovely surroundings. She put her notebook down and picked up the
ceramic figure of a nude female dancer. It was at least three feet
tall.

“It looks as though she might move at any
moment,” Lyrissa murmured.

“Yes, if we played the right music.” Vic
touched the dancer’s head with the tips of her fingers.

“I see you finally made it.” A voice came
from beyond the door.

Lyrissa turned to find Julie standing with a
glass in her hand as well. What are you doing here? She managed to
keep the question to herself.

“Hello.”

“Good afternoon.” Julie drawled the words and
man-aged to make Lyrissa feel clumsy. She came into the room.

“ Julie, darlin’, I’m so sorry. Forgot you
were in the study. Didn’t I mention Julie was here? Julie Duval,
this is—”

“We know each other,” Julie broke in dryly.
She looked past Lyrissa.

“Right! Aunt Georgina told me Lyrissa goes to
the office. Excellent idea. Noel is totally brilliant.” Vic hugged
Lyrissa again.

“It was Miss Georgina’s idea, not Noel’s,”
Julie’s said in a snippy tone.

“Was it? Now, why did I think that? Oh,
Cousin Augustin said Noel really enjoys working with the lovely—
ahem, never mind.” Vic’s eyes widened at the look Julie gave
her.

“I understand you’ve been through most of the
list,” Julie snapped. Her dark eyes flashed with animosity as she
stared at Lyrissa.

“Three-quarters of it so far. Your collection
could be the last of it.” Lyrissa tinned to Vic in a deliberate
dismissal of Julie.

“I suppose you’ll give us all a report,”
Julie said.

“After I consult with Noel and Mrs. St Denis,
of course.” Lyrissa spoke over her shoulder. “May I see the
rest?”

“Uh, of course, darlin’. Follow me.” Vic’s
gray-green eyes sparkled with interest. She glanced between the two
young women.

“Thanks.”

Lyrissa smiled and lifted her head as she
walked after Vic. Julie brought up the rear. It was as though she
meant to keep an eye on Lyrissa.

“I’ve made a study of the collection myself,”
Julie said.

“So you know about art and art appraisal?”
Lyrissa kept her tone polite and cool.

“My family has collected art for generations
as an in-vestment,” Julie replied.

“I see. Not so much for your own pleasure.”
Lyrissa’s voice was even.

“We are able to do both, invest and enjoy
beauty. We’re like other fine old families in that way,” Julie
said.

They walked into a long room with teakwood
furniture, Audubon wildlife prints, and royal blue brocade
draperies. Lyrissa turned to face Julie. Before she could hurl a
suitable reply, Vic spoke.

“My late husband’s study is filled with
history. You’ll be in heaven, Lyrissa.” Vic made a full turn with
her arms outstretched. “Dripping with old things.”

Lyrissa gazed around the room and forgot
about Julie’s attempt to bait her. The prints were wonderful, but
on a far wall hung the prize—her own Holy Grail. There in all its
splendor was “Sunday Stroll on the Tremé Faubourg.” She stood
frozen, in awe. She walked slowly toward it.

“I... I think... that is, I’m sure this is on
the list,” Lyrissa stammered. She felt her chest tighten just
looking at it.

“It’s lovely,” Julie said.

“Yes, quite nicely done. Here is my
favorite!” She strode over to a tall modern sculpture. “It’s called
‘Man-Child’s Promise.’ ”

“That’s not part of the collection,
Victorine. Honestly.” Julie frowned at it and then Vic.

“I didn’t say it was. But it’s my favorite
all the same.” Vic did not lose her good humor.

Their voices faded as Lyrissa stared at “The
Stroll.” Pale blue faded into a deeper one to make the sky. Women
in pink, white, and green walked along with heads held high. They
were of different shades of brown. Trees in dark green made
impressionistic silhouettes against the blue sky. In one corner of
the painting was the signature of Jules Joubert Jules had used his
sister, his wife, and a cousin as models. Lyrissa felt a connection
to the women.

“You seem mesmerized.” Vic walked over and
stood next to her. “It is lovely, though, in a quaint, old-world
way.”

“Yes, quaint,” Lyrissa said.

“I looked at it earlier. ‘The Stroll’ is its
title, I think.” Julie joined them in front of the painting but
studied Lyrissa instead.

“Yes, well—I’ll make a note of it and the
other pieces.” Lyrissa forced herself to step back. She
scribbled.

“It’s not part of the collection, either,”
Vic announced in an off-hand manner.

Lyrissa’s head jerked up. “Say what?”

“That painting is mine. Papa gave it to me
years ago. I think he said his grandfather left it to him.”

“But that can’t be! I have a painting of its
general description on the list.” Lyrissa flipped pages.

“Let me see. I have my own copy right here. A
twenty- four by thirty-six painting, nineteenth century, women
walking in the park,” Julie read aloud.

“Maybe I’m wrong. Besides, I think it’s a
reproduction,” Vic said. “Anyone for iced tea?”

Lyrissa reeled from her words. “I’m sure this
painting is authentic.”

“No, dear heart Papa told me all about it.
Don’t worry, no caffeine. It’s raspberry orange herbal tea.” Vic
brightly changed subjects.

“Ms. Vivant—”

“Ah, ah, you better call me Vic, or no treat
for you.” Vic wagged a finger with deep red lacquer on the
nail.

“Vic, I know paintings, and this one can’t be
a reproduction.” Lyrissa’s throat tightened at the thought.

“I’m telling you what Papa said. He was
furious when he found out it was a fake. You see, my
great-grandfather was—well, not so honest.” Vic’s eyes twinkled.
She didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed.

“I really don’t think you should go into
family affairs.” Julie’s glance slid sideways briefly and she
nodded at Lyrissa.

“Don’t be silly, it’s a well-known fact.
Besides, the old rascal has been dead for a good sixty years.” Vic
laughed and walked through the door. “Come on, girls. Tea is
waiting.”

Lyrissa started after her, but Julie cut her
off. Both women went down a long hall that entered a wide gourmet
kitchen. A skylight let in sunshine. The kitchen opened onto a
large family room with a big-screen television and furniture in
cool blues and greens. At any other time Lyrissa would have taken
time to admire it. She hardly noticed the elegance of it.

“Vic, I’m sure you’re mistaken. Do you have
any kind of documents? Mrs. St. Denis is certain she lent your
father this painting.” Lyrissa tried to keep her voice calm.

“I don’t think we have any kind of papers. No
reason we would.” Vic went to the built-in refrigerator humming
gaily.

“Tell me exactly what your father said.”
Lyrissa was close behind her. She jumped when Vic whirled
suddenly.

“Here we are! Sweet nectar from heaven, by
way of southern California.” Vic held up a clear glass pitcher of
red liquid.

“Vic, try to remember.” Lyrissa wanted to
snatch it from her hands and shake her until she talked sense.

Vic went to the breakfast table and put the
pitcher down. She got three tall pale green glasses from a side
cupboard.

“Let’s sit down and then we can talk,” Vic
said gaily.

Julie had been leaning against the center
island with bar stools around it. She studied Lyrissa in silence
for several moments before she joined them around the table.
“You’re really intense about that painting. Are you familiar with
the artist?”

Lyrissa looked at her and could see wheels
starting to turn. She cleared her throat. “Not really. He was
considered a minor regional artist. Just being thorough.”

“Really? Hmm.” Julie’s tone and expression
said she was suspicious. She continued to examine Lyrissa
closely.

“But it’s no big deal, Vic. I’ll check it out
after we enjoy this delicious tea.” Lyrissa willed herself to
relax. She even managed to smile at Julie.

Vic chattered about the merits of herbal
compounds. Lyrissa nodded while adding the occasional comment of
her own. Julie continued to watch her surreptitiously. Lyrissa
rolled out what she prayed was her strongest performance to date.
Still Julie was not so easily distracted.

“The neighborhood in the painting looks
lovely. It dates back at least two hundred years. Wealthy free
Creoles lived there.” Julie eyed Lyrissa.

“The Tremé Faubourg was a favorite setting
for artists. So it could be a reproduction,” Lyrissa said.

“Fake, cher. We shouldn’t be so delicate.”
Vic laughed and drank a long sip of tea.

“Maybe we should have it examined by an
expert,” Julie said.

“Lyrissa is the expert, Julie. Such a sharp
young thing.” Vic winked at Lyrissa.

“I mean someone with more experience in
authenticating art,” Julie said firmly.

“That could come later. First, we should make
sure it’s part of the collection. Vic says it’s not.” Lyrissa
shrugged again and made notes on a legal pad.

“Well you know I’m not really sure now. Maybe
I’m thinking of the landscape in the dining room.” Vic screwed up
her face.

“We’ll sort it out eventually. No need to
struggle with it now.” Lyrissa smiled at Vic and drank some
tea.

“The board meeting is in less than two weeks.
I think you’d better sort it out before then. That’s what we’re
expecting from you, as the expert.” Julie stared hard at
Lyrissa.

Lyrissa’s smiled widened until it hurt.
“You’re right, of course. I’ll be back in touch with you about the
painting.”

“Okey-dokey!” Vic replied with a wave of one
hand.

The rest of the visit went by in a blur.
Lyrissa’s concentration was on being cool and nonchalant. She could
feel Julie watching her every move. Vic seemed blissfully un-aware
of any tension. She gave a history of her family. Julie frowned
several times at Vic’s hearty candor.

“My great-grandfather was a fast-talking man.
He almost got shot once. You know, it’s been whispered that my
ancestors were high-toned thieves.” Vic dropped her voice in a
mocking, confidential tone.

“Which might have included the art?” Lyrissa
couldn’t resist the opening.

“I wouldn’t be a bit surprised, sugar!” Vic
burst out.

“Vic!” Julie’s mouth hung open for a second
before she recovered.

“The older I get, the less I care what people
think.” Vic laughed. “Besides, it’s all just entertaining
historical tidbits.”

Lyrissa sipped her tea and pretended only a
mild interest in Vic’s rambling stories. Julie squirmed, clearly
bored but unwilling to leave them alone. She muttered a soft curse
word when her cell phone rang.

“Another important business deal to close, I
bet. I ad-mire high-powered corporate women,” Lyrissa said with a
guileless expression.

Julie squinted at her but said nothing as she
punched the buttons on the phone. “Yes, what is it?”

“Well, I don’t envy them running around to
meetings all day. So tedious. But then, someone has to keep the
economy going, I guess.” Vic beamed at Lyrissa. “Now you’ve got a
dream career. You get paid for looking at beautiful things.”

Lyrissa laughed. “I never thought about it
that way. But I also study history.”

“That can be exciting, too.”

“Digging around dusty old books and buildings
isn’t exciting. Mostly I sneeze a lot.”

“You’re so funny! I can’t wait for you to
come back. I know, let’s meet for lunch at Copeland’s one day.” Vic
leaned forward with a look of anticipation.

Julie tried to follow their exchange but
couldn’t. “Say that again. I'll be there in twenty minutes.” She
hit the off button on the phone.

“Duty calls?” Lyrissa said sweetly.

Julie’s eyes flashed when she looked at her.
“Nothing Noel and I won’t be able to handle this evening. He wants
me with him tonight at a meeting.”

Lyrissa winced at her choice of words. “I’m
sure you will.”

“We work well together. We’ve been a team for
six years now.”

“Thank goodness. Carlton is a—” Vic blithely
resumed telling tales out of school.

“Carlton has really grown in his position.”
Julie spoke in a measured manner.

Vic stopped. “Oops, loose lips, as they
say.”

Lyrissa pretended not to notice. Still she
seethed at the vivid image of Julie hanging on Noel. She stood up.
“I’d better go now.”

“Don’t tell me you’re rushing off to a
meeting. What about the leisurely academic life?” Vic stood,
too.

“My schedule is anything but. I work and
attend classes,” Lyrissa said.

“She’s on a scholarship or fellowship of some
kind.” Julie lifted one shapely eyebrow.

Lyrissa reminded herself of the invisible but
no less substantial wall between them. She gazed at Vic and Julie.
They wore their expensive clothes as easily as they wore their
self-assurance. It was obvious neither had the experience of
feeling out of place. At that moment the women represented
generations of Creole smugness.

“How stupid of me to rattle on like some
empty- headed dilettante. I wish I had half your brains and
talent.” Vic spoke in a sincere way, her eyes clouded with concern.
“I didn’t mean to imply—”

“It’s okay.” Lyrissa cut her off. She didn’t
need or want her pity. “Thanks for your time. I’ll call again if I
need to come back.”

“Please do. I really mean that,” Vic said.
She glanced at Julie with a frown.