Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Even from a distance, Noah could see the dark circles under her eyes and the wan appearance of her skin. Even Noah realized the older woman had gone downhill fast.
“Clara, come sit.” Fallon rushed over and with the aid of her walker, helped Clara to sit. “Why didn’t you send Oliver? You need to be in bed!”
“She insisted on coming,” Oliver said.
“Fallon, look at the destruction.” Tears were in the other woman’s eyes.
Fallon rubbed her back. “Was anything stolen?”
“The police asked me to take inventory and do a list. I assured him we’d get that done as soon as possible. But at a glance, it doesn’t appear that way.”
Noah narrowed his gaze. “That’s odd.”
“Is it?” Oliver asked. “Today’s youth is callous and lacks appreciation for the finer things.”
Clara remained silent and Fallon glanced away but not before Noah noticed her hand curl into a fist at his elitist words and snooty tone.
Fallon clasped Clara’s hand. “Everything is insured. It’s going to be okay.”
“Frankly, I think my mother’s had it. This gallery is a burden to her in her fragile state. I can help you shut down—”
“Oliver!” Clara managed to snap at her son. “That is not happening. Fallon is more than capable of putting things to rights here, seeing what was destroyed or taken, and contacting the artists. I will call the insurance company when I get home. I told you this gallery means everything to me. You will not discuss taking it away from me again.”
With a good old-fashioned harrumph, he stormed off in the direction of the office and Noah wanted to applaud the effort it took for Clara to stand up to her son.
“Ms. Morganville, can I get you something? A cup of tea?” Noah offered, and Fallon treated him to a grateful smile.
She shook her head. “Oliver has been bringing me tea constantly. I think I could float away.” She shook her head and managed a laugh. “And please, call me Clara.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“Fallon, we’re going to have to close down while we get the place fixed up and find out how soon we can get more inventory.”
Fallon nodded. “I know. I’ll take care of everything. If you’re up to it, just handle the insurance since it’s in your name. After that, you rest. I’ve got things handled here.”
“Thank you, darling girl. I can trust you have my best interests at heart.” With a smile, Clara pushed herself out of the seat.
Noah jumped up but let her have her dignity as she stood. He was there should she fall. Then, Fallon made small talk so she could accompany Clara to the back office.
By the time she reemerged, Oliver had a hand under his mother’s elbow and was escorting her outside to his car.
Fallon stood by Noah, watching the duo. She sighed. “I don’t understand how she’s so sick so suddenly.”
“Did you talk to her about seeing a specialist?” he asked.
“Every time I do, it seems like Oliver shows up, reassuring me he’s taking care of his mother.” She frowned and sighed, glancing around the gallery. “Oh, my painting was damaged!” Fallon exclaimed. “I should have pulled it off the wall since I had every intention of surprising the girls with it.” Frustrated tears filled her gaze.
“Hey. There’s nothing we can do here, so let’s go. The longer you stay looking at the vandalism, the more upset you’ll get.”
“Okay.” She treated him to a smile he knew was forced. “You can take me home and go pick up the girls from your parents.”
He raised an eyebrow. “First, my parents are bringing them home to me, and second, I’m not sending you home alone when you’re upset. I can guarantee the girls will be happy to take your mind off the break-in, at least for a little while.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tight. “Thank you. I really didn’t want to be by myself.”
With a brighter look in her eyes, they shut the lights and walked out, checking in with the officers outside before they left.
Chapter Sixteen
Fallon sat in the kitchen in Noah’s apartment, a modern space with white cabinets and black quartz countertops with white veining running through. Definitely a good choice for two active girls who probably liked to make a mess.
Noah had excused himself to take a work call. Despite it being the weekend, a lawyer’s life didn’t lend itself to nine-to-five hours. Still, she felt calmer here than she would have in her apartment, pacing and worrying, and was grateful Noah had offered her sanctuary here. She’d have to deal with the reality of working through the damage soon enough. She’d already made a list of artists to contact, knowing she’d add to it when she returned to the gallery and was able to access the computer there.
She wrapped her hands around a mug filled with coffee and took a long sip, sadness filling her at the loss of all the beautiful, one-of-a-kind art that had been destroyed. And for what? Someone who got a kick out of breaking in and getting away with it? She hoped the cameras in the gallery picked up something useful for the police, who’d mentioned Clara had given them access and they would be in touch once they sent the information to their tech people.