Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 156808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Of course John would have entered along his finished wall, where all his completed pieces sat. Everything he’d had there was destroyed. He went straight to the studio, entering through the hole. His hope that the damage was minimal because they hadn’t been inside more than a few minutes was dashed. The entire front part of the studio was destroyed. Nothing would be salvageable. He had maybe as many as eight finished projects just waiting to be shipped. Thousands of dollars of art lay in ruins.
Apparently, John and his cohorts had entered with a plan. His paint had been knocked off its shelf, bottles and tubes lay open and crushed. The consignments he had partly finished seemed the target for the rest of the paint. Kellus walked to the back of his shop and found his welder and other equipment in a state of disarray, knocked over, but that was probably as far as they’d gotten before Arik’s men had arrived. Thank God they had been there.
“It’s a total loss, isn’t it?” Arik asked from behind him. He looked over his shoulder to where Arik bent over the very first picture he’d painted of Arik. He hadn’t noticed the giant rip in that canvas yet.
“I think my equipment’s okay.”
“I loved this picture. I should have taken it with me.”
“I can recreate it,” Kellus said, going to the others of Arik that he’d either drawn or painted. He’d placed them on his small desk—his personal space that had once been occupied with pictures of John. Something John would have known. And that was why the quick sketches he’d made and placed there lay scattered across the floor. Some crumpled, others marked through. The rest of his images of Arik had been covered in black paint.
“It’s not the same.” Arik’s voice was soft with sadness. It killed Kellus to know that once again John’s actions had caused Arik pain.
“Don’t touch anything. The police consider this a crime scene. Then the insurance company has to see the damages,” the guard said from the open hole, holding out a business card. Kellus walked to him and took the card, recognizing the name of a detective from the Fort Worth Police Department.
“Rain’s coming. We need to get this covered. He doesn’t need more damage,” Arik said firmly.
“They’re working on the house now. They’ll be out here next.”
“What happened to the house?” he asked.
“They took out the side of the kitchen.”
“Shit, I didn’t see that,” Kellus said, his heart sinking as he stepped around Arik to look across the backyard. A small portion of his kitchen was exposed. Men were busily securing a large blue plastic tarp on the roof.
“It’s remarkable the van still ran after all the damage he did here,” Arik said, coming to stand right beside him in the yard.
“How did he manage to do all the damage inside the shop and still jump in the van and drive away before someone caught him?” Kellus asked.
“He wasn’t the one driving,” the security guard supplied.
“I think the police believe he was driving,” Arik said.
“Well, Nickerson wasn’t the driver, at least not when they left here.”
“None of it makes sense. John didn’t take anything from what I can tell,” Kellus said, looking back inside the destroyed studio.
The guard inclined his head toward the studio. “Nah, makes perfect sense. He wasn’t looking for something to steal. This looks personal.” The bigger man turned his focus on Arik. “And from what I saw in that studio, I don’t think this guy was too fond of you either, Mr. Layne.”
This was all too much to process on the few hours’ sleep that he had. His brain went numb as he left that conversation and headed for the house. He reached for his keys and then remembered Arik had driven him. Luckily, Arik seemed a little more prepared as he came up behind Kellus. “I have the key you gave me, but let’s go to the front. This awning doesn’t look secure.”
Kellus looked up to see the metal dislodged from the side of the house, hanging almost to the top of the holly bushes next to his walkway. Preoccupied with all the other damages, he hadn’t even noticed. God, he hoped his insurance company didn’t drop him.
“He did a number on the place, didn’t he?” Kellus said absently.
“Oh yeah.” Arik’s tone left no room for doubt.
He followed Arik around to the side door of the kitchen. Besides the crumbled outside wall and a thick layer of dust and debris carpeting the hand-scraped hardwood floors, nothing seemed out of place. Well, other than the fact that you could see daylight on the other side of the gaping, exterior hole. “You’re right. He did wanna ruin me.”
“I honestly think that was his intent. I don’t understand the reason behind it, probably jealousy. You don’t deserve any of this, Kellus.”