Chapter 28
Soft music played from the live band in the corner of the room. Chase straightened his tie and glanced around the large home. This was the kind of house that was meant for lavish gatherings, with the huge chandelier, the open floor plan, and the swinging doors to the kitchen so staff could constantly bring more hors d’œuvres.
His mother nudged him. “Mingle.”
He walked farther into the room and joined the female costar, Mel, who was standing with an older gentleman, chatting about what a hit the movie was going to be. Mel sipped a glass of sparkling something and grinned. “The screenplay is brilliant.”
The man chuckled. “Thank you.”
Chase nodded his head. “I thought the dialogue was fresh.” That was his go-to compliment when talking to a writer.
The man puffed out his chest. “And you are?”
Chase stuck out his hand. “Chase Hawkins.”
“Ah, I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.” He went on to talk about the screenplay, but Chase’s gaze had wandered.
Suddenly, he froze.
Isabella’s poppy painting was hanging on the far wall in the other room. He excused himself and made his way through the crowd of people.
His mother followed him. “That was rude.”
“Sorry,” he said absently. “This painting. I know it.”
A man with pure-white hair turned around and smiled at him. Jack Manning, the one throwing the party. “It’s stunning, isn’t it? I just acquired it. It’s a Shephard original.”
Chase’s heart pounded. “Isabella Shephard?”
Jack’s eyebrows knitted together. “No. Anthony Shephard. The famous Los Angeles artist who tragically died a few years ago. This was in his private collection. I picked it up for less than two million.”
Looking closer, he saw the signature in the corner. Anthony Shephard. It hadn’t been there in Isabella’s photo. Chase swallowed the bile rising in his throat.
Isabella’s paintings. She said her stepmother would sometimes take them. Elenore must be selling them as Anthony’s work.
And if that was the case, there was no way she’d let that money train go. Isabella had to be locked up in the attic.
Why hadn’t she heard his song? Then a new thought entered his mind. What if she were drugged? What if he needed to get to her right away?
A sense of urgency rose in him. “This isn’t a Shephard original. You should call the police. Excuse me.” He left Jack, his eyes wide, and moved his way through the crowd to the door.
His mother grabbed his arm. “What are you doing? Why are you acting this way?”
“I have to go. Something urgent has come up. I can’t explain it now, but can you call Dad and have him come get you? I need the car.”
His mother frowned at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Isabella’s in trouble.”
She fished her keys out of her purse and handed them to him. “I trust you.”
Heart racing, he grabbed the keys and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Mom.” As he climbed into his mother’s car, he dialed 911.
Chase rang the doorbell a second time, his palms sweaty. He was going to sweet-talk Delilah into letting him into the attic. That was his only plan. Talking to the emergency dispatch hadn’t gone too well. He sounded like a lunatic, raving about a forged signature on a painting and a girl being held hostage. After ten minutes of getting nowhere, he hung up. He was sure he was now on some watch list somewhere.
The house was silent. If they weren’t home, maybe that was a good thing. He knew how to get in. Picking his way around the house, he crept toward the lattice. A quick glance around told him no one was watching. Their home was private, with large hedges shielding them from the neighbors. He climbed up the side of the house and over Isabella’s balcony.
The sliding glass door wasn’t locked, so he slipped inside. Isabella’s room looked the same as yesterday. He crept out into the hallway and examined the locked attic door. There was a keyhole under the handle, much like the old skeleton keys would open, but it looked modern instead.
He had to find the keys.
He walked down to Elenore’s bedroom and flipped on the light. No bowl of keys lay about, easy to find, so he started opening drawers and cabinets. He was rewarded when he pulled open the drawer on her nightstand. A ring of keys rattled, and he grabbed them.
It was obvious which one opened the attic door. He shoved it into the keyhole and turned it, hearing a click as it unlocked. He threw open the door and ran up the stairs only to find another locked door. He pounded on it. “Isabella?”
A muffled noise came from behind the door. “Chase?” He could barely hear her.
His heart pumped faster, his fingers trembling. “I’m coming!” he yelled. He peered at the lock. A deadbolt, just like any other. He turned the ring of keys in his hand. He’d have to try them all.
The sound of the front door opening wafted up the steps, and he froze. Voices carried. Delilah laughed. They were home. Panic flooded him, and he ran down the stairs to close the first door. If he were quiet, maybe he wouldn’t be detected until he got Isabella out of there.
He crept back up the stairs in the pitch blackness. He felt around for the deadbolt keyhole and then tried the first key. It didn’t fit. He continued, and had tried several of them when one key slipped and he dropped the ring, making a clinking noise as the keys hit one another. He froze, listening. He couldn’t hear anything except his own heartbeat, so he picked up the keys again and started over.
His own breathing sounded loud in the quiet stairwell. It seemed to take forever until he finally got one key to slide into the hole. He turned it. The door opened, and light flooded over him.
Isabella threw her arms around him. “You came!”
“Shh,” he said, hugging her close, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He shut the door behind him. “Your stepmother came home as I was trying to unlock the door,” he whispered. “They’re downstairs.”
She sobbed into his shirt. “I wasn’t sure you would find me. How did you know where I was?”
He stroked her hair. “Your poppy painting. I saw it hanging in a Hollywood producer’s home. It had your father’s signature on it.”
“She’s forcing me to make more.”
“I know.”
His mind reeled as to what he should do next. Charge downstairs with Isabella and barge their way outside? That was better than waiting up in the attic to be discovered. He pulled back and took her hand.
“We need to get out of here. Let’s try to sneak out quietly, but if we’re seen, be prepared to make a run for it.”
She nodded, and he opened the door. They crept down the carpeted stairs to the bottom door. He listened. No sounds filtered through. He pushed it open.
The hallway was empty. He gripped Isabella’s hand and walked toward her old room. The door creaked as he pushed it open. He froze, listening. Nothing. Had Elenore left again? He didn’t want to wait to find out. He tugged Isabella through her room and to the sliding-glass door. The curtains billowed inward with the breeze. He must have left it open.
Isabella swung her leg over the balcony and found purchase on the lattice. She descended and he followed, his heart pounding. He climbed down and jumped the rest of the way.
Elenore came around the side of the house. “Well, isn’t this unfortunate.” She pointed a hot pink revolver at him. He froze. Isabella’s eyes grew wide.
Delilah appeared and grabbed Isabella. Isabella started to scream, but Delilah clamped her hand over her mouth. Ava picked her way over to them.
Elenore grabbed Chase’s arm and tugged him toward the cliff, her revolver pointed at his head. He didn’t struggle for fear the gun would go off. Elenore clicked her tongue. “This has really been a sad turn of events, Isabella.”
“Should have stayed away from him,” Delilah hissed in Isabella’s ear.
“The police are out looking for you, Isabella, but they won’t find you.” Elenore’s grip on his arm tightened.
Ava’s eyes grew wide. “Why not?”
Elenore cast a weary glance at Ava. “Because she’ll be locked in the attic.”
“Oh.” Ava nodded. “Yeah.”
Elenore frowned. “This all could have been avoided if you’d have cooperated, you stupid girl. I told you to stay away from the boy.”
“He’s mine,” Delilah said. Chase stared at her in disbelief.
How delusional were these people?
Elenore continued. “But you wouldn’t listen.” She got a hard look in her eyes. “I’ve never understood why you were the lucky one. I should have been the one with the talent. I worked hard all my life for it. But no. I was never good enough. But you? It never was a struggle for you. And I’m not going back to the streets, sweetheart. I’m smarter than that.”
Elenore glared at Isabella, her stare murderous.
What was she talking about? She wasn’t making any sense. She was out of her mind.
Isabella’s gaze connected with his. She made the slightest movement with her head.
What was she trying to tell him? Did she want him to pounce now, or was she shaking her head saying no, don’t move?
“Isabella, pay attention. This is what happens when we don’t do as we’re told. This is all your doing.” Elenore took a step toward the edge of the cliff, forcing him to come with her.
Delilah shrieked. “What are you going to do?”
Elenore met her with a cold gaze. “Chase here is too distraught over his girlfriend running away. He’s going to throw himself off the cliff.”
Chase had no intention of letting that happen. He readied himself and gave Isabella a hard look.
“What?” Delilah’s face drained of color.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re fond of this one. But we can’t have him messing up our plans.”
“But you can’t!” Delilah’s shrill voice filled the air. “I love him!”
Isabella shoved Delilah, and she fell on her butt.
Chase took advantage of the distraction. He grabbed for the gun. Elenore’s grip was strong, and he couldn’t get her fingers off. They struggled, the gun waving up in the air. A loud bang sounded.
“Mother!” Delilah screamed, getting up from the ground. “Don’t you hurt him!”
Chase managed to wrestle the gun away from Elenore. He backed up from her, the gun pointed at her head. “Don’t move.” His was voice surprisingly steady.
Sirens sounded in the distance. Isabella ran to him, and he pulled her close with one arm while keeping the gun trained on Elenore.
“You were going to kill him!” Delilah shrieked. She ran to Elenore and slapped her face. Ava stood by, wringing her hands.
The sirens grew louder.
Chase hugged Isabella close, his heart pounding in his ears.
Two cop cars pulled up, and four police officers got out with their guns drawn. “Put the gun down!” one of them shouted.
Chase lowered the gun and dropped it on the grass, then he held his hands up in the air.
One of them stepped toward Elenore. “Elenore Shephard? You’re under arrest for fraud.” He handcuffed her and read her her rights as the other officers made sure no one else was armed.
“That was fast,” Chase said.
One of the men turned to him. “We’ve been investigating her for months. Things just sort of came to a head today.”
Chase leaned down and kissed Isabella’s forehead. “You’re safe now. It’s over.”
Isabella clenched Chase’s hand, waiting for Child Protective Services to come get her. Savannah sat on the other chair, her face white. The police had taken Elenore and her stepsisters away. She was still sitting in her father’s home, but would not be for too much longer. She tried to memorize everything she could.
Chase’s thumb caressed Isabella’s hand. “Everything is going to be okay.”
She nodded but didn’t quite believe him.
“Wherever you end up, it’s got to be better than what you’ve gone through with Elenore.”
“No doubt,” Savannah said.
Isabella’s throat grew tight. What if she had to change schools? What if her foster parents were horrible? She didn’t want to think about the ways her life could be worse.
“Tell me something on your bucket list,” Chase said in an obvious attempt to distract her and change the subject.
She had to think about it for a moment. “I’ve always wanted to go to Paris and see the Louvre.”
“That would be cool. Where else would you go?”
“Chicago. My father took me when I was little, but I don’t remember much. It would be great to go back to see the art museums there.”
“What about someplace scenic?” Savannah said. “Have you ever wanted to go see Niagara Falls or something?”
She crossed her legs, her nerves making her want to bounce her foot. “I’ve always wanted to go to Canada. Maybe visit Banff. I’ve seen photos, and it’s amazing up there.”
A man walked into the room, and Isabella jumped up. “Mr. Kato?”
He grinned, his smile stretching for miles. “Hey, my little art mouse.”
“What are you doing here?”
He hitched up his pants. “I thought maybe you could come live with me and Nan for a while.”
Isabella rushed into his arms, warmth filling her chest. “Really?”
He nodded.
Emotion flooded through her. She wouldn’t have to go live with strangers. “I can’t believe it.”
“You know I’ve always thought of you as a daughter. We’re filling out the paperwork now. Things won’t be official for a while, but they said we could have temporary custody until it is.”
Isabella felt like crying and shouting at the same time. Living with Mr. and Mrs. Kato would be wonderful. Mr. Kato had been such a good friend of her father’s. He always treated her like a princess. She never thought she’d live like this, but here she was, all her dreams coming true.