style="font-size:15px;"> “Hold on.” He heard shuffling and voices. “You’re clear. Someone will come and escort you inside.”
“Uh, thanks.”
Gabriel shifted his equipment pack and bypassed the other photographers gathered beyond the gate, then waited where he could see the entryway. When a uniformed officer came out and punched in the code for the walk-through gate next to the driveway, there was a rush of people behind Gabriel.
The officer held up his hand. “Sorry, no one else allowed. This man has special clearance.”
Moans and groans and foul language ensued behind Gabriel, followed by desperate questions: “Was anything stolen last night? Is the princess safe in New Orleans? Why are you here? Was anyone arrested? Will the princess make a statement to the press?”
Gathering that there had been a break-in attempt last night, Gabriel hurried through the gate and didn’t look back at the agitated crowd. He’d been in worse jams. And he did have an official pass, which he flashed at the officer just for good measure.
But getting special treatment had stirred up the paparazzi. He’d probably hear about this in the news later.
“What happened?” he asked the stoic officer, hoping to verify what he’d heard from the reporters at the gate.
“An intruder last night.”
And that would be all he’d get from that one. “Thanks.”
He made his way behind the policeman into the side entrance, where a small porch was tucked behind a heavy canopy of banana fronds. This entryway led to the mudroom and kitchen.
And that was where he found Lara sitting with Deidre.
“Good morning,” he said, glancing around at the guards and police officers. “Brunch?”
Lara got up, her expression as serene as ever, her hair back in its chignon, her light blue linen pantsuit not daring to wrinkle. “We had a scare last night. Deidre saw someone on one of the upstairs balconies, out by her window.” She glanced around, then lowered her voice. “He left another package.”
Not good news. “What was in the package?”
She shrugged, gathered her arms against her stomach. “It’s another oddity.” Motioning toward the breakfast table, she walked him over. “Sit down and I’ll get you some coffee and explain.”
Deidre, looking drawn and unkempt, jumped up. “Let me do that, ma’am.”
Lara nodded, then sank into a cushioned chair. Gabriel sat down across from her. In the bright sunlight coming through the wall-to-wall bay windows that gave a full view of the back garden, she looked tired and...lost. Still lovely, but at least now he knew she was fairly normal. Wasn’t everyone tired and lost anyway?
“The box, Lara?”
She sent a quick glance toward the swarm of men roaming up and down the stairs. “We can’t go up to see it. They’re taking photos and logging it as evidence. And they don’t want us to disturb the scene—which really is only the balcony and the package.”
“So the package is still where someone found it?”
“I saw it after I heard Deidre screaming. It was left on the balcony outside her room.”
She waited until Deidre brought him coffee and a plate with muffins and cheese. The fidgety girl took her own dishes to the sink and busied herself with cleaning the kitchen. Lara continued, “It’s a replica of one of the art pieces I showed you last night. The Benoit.” She stopped, shook her head.
“But?”
She blinked, looked away to the right. “But it’s not really the same portrait. I know it looks familiar but I can’t place it. It’s as if someone is trying to copy the Benoit’s style.”
Gabriel’s instincts kicked in and he got that coiling knot inside his stomach, the knot he always got when he was onto something no one had been expecting. “Did anyone else see this intruder?”
“No. Deidre saw a shadow. The person ran when she screamed.”
“Do you know if Deidre talked to Herbert about the first package?”
Looking surprised, she shook her head. “Deidre mentioned that this morning, but no. He didn’t answer her calls or messages.”
Deidre had brought her the first package last night. No one else had seen that one delivered. And Deidre hadn’t been able to get in touch with the chef last night to see what he might know.
Now Deidre had seen an intruder who’d conveniently left yet another package near her room? Coincidence or carefully planned attack?
Gabriel didn’t believe in coincidences.
No wonder the girl scurried and jumped like a squirrel. She was obviously in on this gig. But why?
“So this replica—what is it? What’s it about?”
Lara leaned forward. “It’s another Arcadian dream. A group of Arcadians gathered by a large boat. The boat is sailing away through clouds and cherubs. Shepherds are watching from the sky. It’s a sad portrait of the hardship the Arcadians had to endure, wrapped inside a beautiful dream.”
He nodded. “Yes. So someone obviously knows you own a Benoit. And that it’s worth close to a million dollars.”
She lifted her chin in acknowledgment. “Yes. This one reminds me of that. Same technique, same dreamlike Arcadia backdrop with the Louisiana Arcadians featured. A pretty good representation but—”
“But what?” Gabriel felt the hairs on the back of his neck rising. A sure sign that this was bigger than just following around a princess. Suddenly, he had a real story going. But this wasn’t supposed to be complicated. He wasn’t ready for complicated again. Not yet.
“Oh, my.” She got up, paced the floor, cast several covert glances over her shoulder.
He followed her. “Lara, tell me so I can help.”
“Back in the early sixties, it was discovered that there was a set of three Benoit paintings in a quaint little museum in the Quarter. No one knew the value, not even the museum curator. A patron discovered them and he and the curator quietly called in an art expert to appraise them. But word got out and everyone wanted to own them. Or take them. The one on my parlor wall was hidden away, but someone stole the other two before the appraisal—and murdered the museum curator. Years later, after hearing the story, an associate of Theo’s bid on his behalf for the remaining Benoit at a private auction and paid a hefty price for it.
“Theo told me this story when he presented the painting to me. But no one has ever found the two missing paintings, so some think that was just a hoax to bring attention to the one I own. But if there are two more paintings out there, they now have an estimated worth of over a million dollars each.”
Gabriel did a low whistle. “So all three together...”
She let out a breath. “Could be worth close to three or four million
