Framed Shadows: Shadows Landing #6 Page 3

  “I’d be happy to oblige your curiosity.” Paxton’s voice dipped lower as he leaned toward her. “If you’re not afraid of the big bad wolf.”

  Tinsley rolled her eyes. “Oh please. You don’t scare me. You’re all bark and no bite.”

  “You’re the only person to ever say that to me. And for the record, I do bite, and you’d love it.” Tinsley tried to act nonchalant but failed miserably when she couldn’t form a comeback. “Nice painting.”

  Paxton stepped around her to get a closer look, and Tinsley hurried forward to try to block him, but failed when he shot his arm out to the side to barricade her from getting by him. “This is different from your other paintings. Romance isn’t really my thing, but this may be my favorite of yours so far. Your landscapes are excellent, but you hardly ever put people in them.”

  Tinsley was filled with warmth at the compliment. The negative comments from the tourists were forgotten. She knew Paxton well enough to know he wouldn’t hold back with his opinions. So the fact that he liked it meant a lot to her. Now, she just had to stop him from realizing it was the two of them kissing in the painting.

  “I’m not very good at people. What did you need or did you realize you hadn’t met your quota for torturing people for the day and decided to visit me?”

  Tinsley moved to wash her brush, forcing Paxton to turn his back to the painting.

  “There are all kinds of torture, you know. The kinds that are painful and designed to hurt, and then there are the kinds that leave you begging for more,” Paxton said, his voice growing rougher as he spoke.

  Holy smokes! Tinsley’s body was on fire because she knew exactly what kind of torture he was talking about and looking at his eyes staring at her left her with no doubt he’d be very, very good at it.

  What was happening here? Did he feel the same as she did? That these little skirmishes were just foreplay before the main event?

  “So, what did you need?” Tinsley asked, proud that her voice didn’t crack or that she hadn’t stripped naked and jumped him.

  “I have a case that I need your opinion on,” Paxton told her. Then to her horror, her stomach rumbled. He smirked at her again and all sexy thoughts flew out the window at her embarrassment. “How about we discuss the case over dinner?”

  Her stomach liked that idea, but she didn’t. “If we go out, we won’t get any work done. Everyone will stop by the table to chat. It’s what I normally love about my small town, but if I need to look at files and examine paintings, I need to be able to focus.”

  Paxton looked around and nodded. “Okay. You clean up and I’ll grab something from the Pink Pig. What do you want from there?”

  The Pink Pig was one of two barbecue joints in town and the one closest to her. There was a friendly but intense rivalry between the Pink Pig and Lowcountry Smokehouse. It was a rivalry where there were no losers because both places were so good. Just thinking about them had her stomach rumbling again.

  Tinsley gave him the order and watched as he walked out of the backroom. Oh boy. What was she getting herself into and could she get herself out of it if need be? She couldn’t wait for Paxton to get back, but even she knew he wasn’t the staying type.

  3

  Paxton thanked the waitress and grabbed the large brown paper bag filled with food. The entire time he was waiting for his order, his mind was on the painting at Tinsley’s. It had been them. She may say she wasn’t good at painting people, but she was wrong. It had felt as if Paxton had Tinsley bent back in his arms and was kissing her the second he had seen the painting.

  Paxton smiled to himself as he walked by the Shadows Landing Historical Society. He wasn’t the only one thinking of them together. He picked up his pace, excited to get back to Tinsley and it wasn’t just because of the painting. Paxton had to be tough when dealing with dangerous gangs, but Tinsley would just roll her eyes and his tough act dissolved in a heartbeat. The question was, did he want to see what would happen if he pushed her in another way?

  Yes, he wanted to see that very badly. But, even though he acted otherwise, he did have a heart and he wouldn’t hurt Tinsley for anything. That meant even protecting her from him. He couldn’t risk them starting something only to have him leave on assignment. That would be cruel and he’d never do that to Tinsley.

  “Hello, young man.”

  Paxton smiled at the polar-opposite pair of old ladies walking toward him. One looked like a plucked chicken, all pale, thin, and wrinkly. The other was darker-skinned and perfectly rounded. Yet, they both had the same curious look in their eyes as they took him in.

  “Good evening, ladies.” Paxton smiled at them as he continued walking. He might be a tough as nails federal agent, but he wasn’t stupid. There wasn’t anything scarier than a granny gang. They would trip you with their sweetness, then cajole you into spilling your guts for a casserole. There was one such granny gang in Atlanta who had served as his confidential informants. And he wasn’t fooling himself to think only he got information from them. No, they strangled every last bit of information from him with the pretty scarf they’d knitted for him.

  “We were just coming from knitting club when we saw someone new and thought we’d see if you needed any help,” the chicken said as the warning bells went off in his head.

  Danger, danger, danger flashed through his mind. Dear God, they had knitting needles and he smelled a chicken and cheese casserole.

  “That’s very nice of y’all, but I have to get going. Have a nice night, ladies.”

  Paxton faked to the right and rolled to the left before slamming into a lady with a blouse embroidered with cats all over it.

  “I’m so sorry,” Paxton muttered.

  “He’s new, Mitzi,” the chicken lady called out.

  “Oh, you’re new!” Mitzi said, her eyes lighting up like a cat that spotted a little red laser dot smack in the middle of Paxton’s forehead.

  Paxton looked up and saw more old women, a hulking mountain of a man, and was that America’s Sweetheart stepping out of the church’s front door? The granny gang was growing. He was out of time.

  “Lovely to meet you,” Paxton said and then he ran.

  He zigged and zagged like a professional running back, outmaneuvering the defense until he slammed through the front door of the art gallery. He was breathing hard as he turned to look out the door. They were all shuffling toward him like a mob of zombie grannies. Paxton felt no regret at flicking the deadbolt closed, turning off the lights, and racing to the back room.

  “Is everything okay?” Tinsley asked worriedly when he shut and locked the door behind him.

  “Yeah, didn’t want the food to get cold.” Paxton set down the bag and moved to the Bluetooth speaker. He turned up the music to hide the sound of the granny gang knocking on the front door. “Love this song,” he said with a bright smile when Tinsley looked questioningly at him.

  Tinsley unloaded the bag of food as he blared the music. Once the song was finally over and he didn’t hear any more knocking, he turned the music down.

  “There have been some robberies in Charleston,” Paxton began to explain as he sat across from her at the artist table covered in smudges of old paint.

  “I’m guessing art was the target since you’re here,” Tinsley said sarcastically.

  Paxton smiled before biting into his sandwich. Sassy Tinsley was his favorite so far. “Ding, ding, we have a winner.” Tinsley rolled her eyes and Paxton placed pictures of the art stolen in front of her as he explained their dead ends. “I’m hoping you know of some connection that we’re missing.”

  Tinsley took the pictures and studied them closely. Paxton finished his sandwich and tried to guess what she saw in the pictures. “Can I see pictures of the houses and crime scenes?” Tinsley asked finally.

  “Sure,” Paxton said, handing her the photos she’d asked for.

  He watched as she leaned forward and nibbled on her bottom lip as she examined the photos. Then she nodded to herself and sat back
in her chair. “They were targeted art thefts. The jewelry was just a bonus. This was all about taking these specific paintings.”

  “What? How do you know that?” Paxton asked, looking down at the photos again. How did she know that?

  “These are quality paintings worth a lot of money, but they’re not the only paintings these people owned.” Tinsley picked up some of the photos and turned them around. “You can see where the stolen art was, but look around. There’s other art left behind. The pieces that were taken are worth over ten thousand dollars each. The paintings left behind were between two and five thousand. Also, see this Manet here?”

  Paxton looked at a Manet painting and then looked up at Tinsley. “Are you sure it’s not a Monet?”

  Tinsley reached across the table and punched his shoulder. Paxton couldn’t keep the laugh in. He tossed his head back and laughed out loud. “I’m sorry, beautiful, but you’re just too cute when you’re mad so I couldn’t resist.”

  He watched as her mouth dropped open and her eyes went comically wide. “Oh my gosh. You’ve been teasing me this whole time, haven’t you? You knew the difference between Monet and Manet.” Paxton grinned and Tinsley punched him again. “I can’t believe you!”

  “If you want to touch me, you’re more than welcome to. You don’t have to keep hitting me. Now, what were you saying about the Manet?” Paxton looked down at her small hands. What would they feel like running over his body?

  “It’s a reproduction. A very good one as I’m sure you know, but what’s interesting is that they knew it, too. They specifically targeted the high-value paintings and left everything else behind. So, the question I would be asking is, who knew these three couples had these three very valuable pieces?”

  “That is a very good question, Tinsley.”

  He had been teasing her. Unbelievable. Tinsley sat back as Paxton began looking over the case file. “Why did you tease me?”

  “Hmm?” Paxton murmured as he looked back up at her. She hadn’t meant to ask the question out loud, but now she was curious.

  “Why did you tease me? Is it because you don’t like working with me?” Tinsley’s heart pounded as she waited for Paxton to answer.

  His gray eyes locked onto hers and he frowned. “I did it at first because I didn’t think we’d work well together and I wanted to put an end to it.”

  Tinsley’s stomach dropped at the same time her temper soared. “Why would you think that? I can work with anyone!”

  “But I can’t,” Paxton admitted. “I worked on violent gang cases. I don’t play nice. I do what it takes to get the job done. I thought I’d send you running off in tears, but you stayed. You challenged me. I respect that about you, Tinsley. I respect more than that. I respect all of you. Plus,” Paxton leaned forward as if sharing a secret, “you’re really sexy when you’re fired up.”

  Tinsley felt herself blush from head to toe. When she looked into his eyes, it was like everything she thought she had known had been turned upside down. She realized that what she’d seen in his eyes wasn’t annoyance. What Tinsley saw in Paxton’s eyes was desire.

  “Understand now?” Paxton asked. His deep voice seemed to reverberate through her whole body, sending off delightful sparks of lust.

  Tinsley nodded before awkwardly clearing her throat. “So, what can I do to catch this art thief?”

  4

  Paxton had nothing on the thefts. The insurance investigators hadn’t found anything either. That’s why Paxton was in the office at six in the morning trying to figure out what these families had in common. They were all wealthy enough to afford expensive artwork. They had all been on vacation at the time of the thefts. But how did the thieves know about the art and the vacations? There were no common connections. They didn’t attend the same churches, they weren’t in the same charities, and none of them worked in the same industry.

  Paxton pulled up the social media accounts for the owners of the first house. The husband’s account was private, and Paxton couldn’t see anything except for some photos he’d been tagged in. Okay, maybe he could find a connection between them there? Paxton opened tabs on all the homeowners looking for common friends or photos.

  He began scrolling through the week of the robberies for each person and that familiar feeling on the back of his neck when he was onto something began tickling him. All the families who had been robbed had posted pictures of them on their vacations and tagged their locations. Sometimes it was the husband, sometimes it was the wife, and most of the time it was both. The wording, too, made it clear they were on vacation—not at home—and even gave the date they were coming back.

  Paxton moved to the week before the robbery. There were public posts about counting down the days for their upcoming vacations. The further he scrolled back, the clearer it became. Photos of the owners with the expensive jewelry they just got, the rare painting, the new cars . . . they’d posted a picture of anything worth a good deal of money to social media.

  Paxton gathered all the photographs from one couple and he was able to get an almost total view of their house. Each room and the valuables in them were right there for the world to see.

  “Peter!” Paxton called out as he flung open his boss’s door without knocking. “I got it.”

  Paxton was already back at his seat pulling up all the information by the time Peter walked to his desk. “Look, their whole lives are on social media. Most of these posts are public. Look at them collectively and what do you see?”

  Peter looked over all the images and shook his head. “It’s everything a thief needs to know, even a barely competent thief could clean them out. What time they have their morning coffee. What time their exercise classes are. When and where they’re going on vacation and the whole freaking layout of their house with every valuable asset chronicled for the world to see.”

  “I’ve asked IT to run a scan for all Charleston residents on social media who have tagged themselves in certain locations,” Paxton told him.

  “Good. Let me know what you find.”

  It didn’t take long for Paxton to get a list of people who were actively posting their current vacation photos. Now it was up to him to see if they had any art of value to steal.

  Paxton’s eyes were crossed, but two hours later he’d found two promising leads. With Peter’s blessing, he was off to check them out. He drove over the bridge and into Mount Pleasant. It didn’t take long to reach Sullivan’s Island and the four million dollar beach house whose owners were currently away.

  Paxton stopped across the street and looked at the sprawling house with sweeping staircases and a circular drive with a large water feature in the middle. A brand new Mercedes-Benz Sprinter was backed up to the garage. The sign on the side read in clear print Palmetto Luxury Contractors. A phone number and website were also listed. Paxton pulled up the website on his phone and saw a passable enough page. He then called the number listed. It rang but then he got the voicemail for Palmetto Luxury Contractors. Lots of people had construction done when they weren’t at home, but something felt off to him. It was too coincidental.

  Paxton checked his gun and then approached the house as casually as possible. He made it to the garage before seeing the first person. The man had on pressed khaki pants and a gray polo shirt with the company name embroidered in red across his heart. It wasn’t the professional outfit that caught Paxton’s attention. It was the sight of the snake tattoo on the man’s arm. It was the same tattoo Paxton had painted onto his arm to prove his membership with the Myriad gang when he was undercover with them in Atlanta. This man was not part of the Atlanta gang, at least not someone he’d ever met. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t know Paxton. He had hoped his scruffy appearance while undercover versus this clean-cut look was enough to confuse anyone.

  “Can I help you?” the man asked as he walked out with a friendly smile on his face.

  “Hey,” Paxton smiled easily back at him. “I’m the Havishes’ neighbor. They asked me to come wa
ter their plants while they’re on vacation. So, are they finally re-doing their bathroom? They’ve talked about it forever.”

  “Yes. We’re taking our measurements now. Maybe you can come back once we’re done?” the man asked easily enough to Paxton.

  “Can’t. I have to get to the city for work. I won’t be but a minute and I’ll keep out of your way,” Paxton began to walk past the man who was now looking a little nervous. He didn’t look back as he took the stairs from the garage up to the first floor. Paxton’s hand was already on his gun as he approached the open door.

  The sound of boots walking toward the door in front of him and the sound of the door at the bottom of the stairs opening had Paxton pulling his weapon. He was trapped with someone coming up the stairs from behind and someone coming toward the door a few steps above him.

  Paxton hurried up the last two stairs and put his ear to the door. The second the footfalls stopped on the other side, Paxton flung the door open as hard as he could.

  The door slammed into the man on the other side as Paxton rushed through the open door, shut it, and threw the deadbolt while a second man groaned and held his hands to his nose.

  In a blink of an eye, Paxton took in his surroundings. He was in a hallway. A guest room was to the left, and to the right was the rest of the first floor. The man going for his weapon had the same uniform as the man Paxton had locked downstairs and the same snake tattoo. Myriads in Charleston? Paxton didn’t have time to think about what that meant.

  The man moved for his weapon and Paxton aimed his gun at him. “FBI. Don’t move or I’ll shoot you,” Paxton warned.

  Leaning against the wall next to the man was a painting that had been taken down. That split second it took for Paxton to see the painting was all the man needed. The gang member pulled his weapon and aimed it at Paxton. Paxton didn’t hesitate. He fired. The dead man dropped to the ground with the gun still in his hand.