Chapter 30

 

Sam waited a full twenty minutes after Robyn left before he made the first call. No one had answered. Now, a half hour later, he'd withdrawn to the top of the stairs to try again. The droning sound of Geoff and Mark's conversation floated up sounding in one ear as he listened to ringing in the other.

Though there had been some thoughtful looks in his direction, Geoff Sommers had said nothing about what may or may not have happened between Sam and his daughter. And despite Mark's occasional excitableness, Sam was thankful that he was there to run interference. Whatever was going on between himself and Robyn wasn't something that he was ready to try to quantify to himself, much less out loud to the father in question. Talking to Sandra about her knowledge of what had happened at RR somehow seemed less scary.

The ringing stopped abruptly, bringing him out of his thoughts. Dee's voice sounded needlessly loud. She'd always reminded Sam of a bird. Not a melodious song bird, but a small gossipy avian that chirped tunelessly and relentlessly away.

"Dee, this is Sam. Is Cassandra there?" He spoke into the receiver, hoping that the woman would simply grant his request with the minimum of hassle. His hope was a futile one.

"What makes you think she's here?" Dee asked, rather than outright telling him that she wasn't as she had when he'd tried to find his ex-wife the morning after the break in. "I seem to remember us already having this discussion. There haven't been any --"

"Because this is where she said I could reach her," Sam cut her off. "Would you put her on please?" He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on.

"I shouldn't let you talk to her," Dee replied, her tone reproving. They had never truly been friends, but things had taken a turn for the worse during Cassandra's incarceration. Dee had sought to insinuated herself in Sam's life at what she had called his 'vulnerable time'. Her overtures had been blatant and Sam had wanted no part of it.

"But then," Dee continued. "You did wait for her these past years. I guess it's just like old times."

Sam would not rise to the bait. "Is she there, Dee?"

The were several moments of silence, and then an irritated huff. "Fine. Hold on." The telephone was settled roughly on a surface, echoing loudly across the connection into Sam's ear. The sharp noise only added to the growing ache in his head.

"Hello, Sam." Cassandra's voice came over the line. In stark contrast to Dee, her tone was soft and quiet, almost reserved. Reserved wasn't Cassandra's style. Warning bells started going off in the back of Sam's mind.

"Cassandra." He spoke her name in return. Now that it was time to actually ask her about the incident, he wasn't sure how to frame the question. It seemed callous to just ask her if she'd hired someone to break into his business and trash the place. Especially when deep in his heart he didn't think that she'd done it.

"I've never known you to work so fast." She spoke before he had a chance to pull his thoughts together. "In less than a week you've changed the locks and moved someone else into our house. Are you calling now to make some sort of an announcement?"

"That's none of your business anymore. And your part of the divorce settlement is in your old account." 

"Well thanks for that," was the sarcastic response. "It's all nice and neat for you, isn't it? Paid in full. But there is something you can't change. Beth is half mine, too. You can't take that away or buy it from me."

"I wouldn't think of it. Beth is priceless. But I didn't call to fight about this --"

"Then what did you call here for?"

Sam took a breath to squash down rising irritation. "I'm sure Dee told you about Renaissance Restorations."

"She did. Too bad that happened after the divorce."

"You're the one who left, Sandra," he reminded her.

"Well, I've changed my mind." Her tone was petulant, and perhaps slightly hopeful. Sam found the realization shocking. Surely she didn't think it was that easy, that he was so desperate that he would again entrust his heart to someone who had only twisted and spat upon everything that had been important to him. He almost laughed.

"It's too late."

"It's never too late until you're dead."

Sam ignored the comment. "Have you ever been to Renaissance?"

He could hear her aggravation over the phone. "Why would I go there?"

"You used to have an interest in art. Did that all change when you started to hang out with a different crowd?"

"Are you inviting me?" she asked.

            "Someone vandalized the place the other night."

            There was a sharp intake of breath and then several moments of silence. "You think I had something to do with it," she finally spoke.

            "Did you?" he asked into the quiet that followed.

            "Bastard," she said under her breath, and Sam winced.

            In a louder tone she continued, he voice tinged with suppressed anger. "I want a chance to get to know my daughter, Sam. I'm going to talk to a lawyer to find out how to make that happen." A final click marked the end of the conversation.

Well that went well. Sam sighed and pressed the disconnect button. If nothing else, at least he knew that Sandra definitely wasn't involved in the break in. But now he found that he really did have reason to worry, because he was at a loss to explain the things that were happening to him. He had only ever lived an ordinary life, never attracting much attention. He couldn't possibly be a target for anyone.

His attention was drawn to the front door as he heard keys in the lock. The door opened and he watched as a pair of legs stepped into the house. Robyn's legs, encased in a pair of slacks. He heard the sound of the deadbolt sliding into place before she moved toward the wall at the bottom of the steps, where the alarm keypad was installed.

She quickly punched in the code, then turned and caught sight of him. Sam felt rooted to the spot. He had never had a woman leave to go end another relationship for him. He wasn't sure how to react, or how she might react, or if things had gone badly. Or if he wasn't just the biggest fool known to mankind.

She smiled, an open easy, everything-is-lovely smile, and he felt like he'd just taken that first exhilarating drop on a rollercoaster. The sensation was unexpected, and he found himself standing and starting down the stairs. One step after the other brought them closer, and heightened the electric energy that somehow existed whenever he was in her presence. His vision narrowed to her, never breaking eye contact.

As he continued downward, he noted the slight flush in her cheeks and the fire in those amazing eyes of hers. And those lips that had parted as if waiting for him. Another step and he would be close enough to touch her, to feel the warm skin of her face, to draw her into his arms. He reached out a hand and . . .

"I thought I heard you come in." Mark appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

Robyn blinked, and Sam started visibly. He struggled to cover irritation at his friend's timing. But then reality settled in. Mark wasn't the only guest in the house.

"Yes," Robyn recovered before he did. "I've taken care of my errand, successfully."

Mark looked suspiciously between the two of them. Sam knew that there was no way he'd missed the rapid change of mood he'd shown. While Robyn had been gone, he had to admit to even himself that he had been a little moody. But now, he couldn't stop smiling.

"Well, Geoff says that he won't hold it against us if we order in pizza. You two game?"

Sam looked toward Robyn who shrugged. "Sounds terrific." And so it was settled. Sam made the call.

 

 

Several hours later, Robyn watched as Sam started up the stairs to tuck his daughter into bed. The pizza was gone, and Mark had only recently left. Looking away from Sam's movements, she turned back toward her father to find him watching her.

"Steven?"

Though he only spoke the one word, Robyn knew what he was asking her. There had been no time for her and Geoff to talk since she had returned from her visit with Steve. The time had been spent going over the information that the research team had managed to dig up, and comparing that with what Sam and Mark already knew.

"He's fine." She smiled, a renewed sense of accomplishment flowing through her. What she had done felt right, and she wondered that she hadn't done it sooner. Her father had certainly encouraged her to make a decision one way or the other. "I almost got the feeling that he was waiting for me to talk to him about it. Maybe someday you'll fill me in on how you knew."  

Geoff chuckled. "Oh, I don't know about that. We parents have to keep our secrets."

"Umm hmmm. I have heard of certain parents keeping secrets, all right." She shot him a knowing look. It came as no surprise when he immediately changed the subject. Obviously he wasn't ready to talk about a romance with Ellie Morgan.

"And there are certain parents who don't keep them very well," Geoff said pointedly. He gestured up the stairs. "He wears his heart on his sleeve. Are you absolutely sure that this isn't purely a client/protector reaction? Are you even ready for a potential relationship with him, especially now?"

"No, I'm not sure," Robyn spoke honestly. "I do know that there was something there before I ever thought of him as a client. It's strange -- everything seems to have happened so fast, but at the same time, it seems like it's taking forever."

"That's the way it is sometimes," Geoff said, affection in his tone. "I might even have picked up on something early on myself. But I have always had reason to trust your judgment. And you won't be in this alone. You've got back up, right outside if you should need it. Or just a phone call away if you want to talk."

"Okay." Robyn nodded.

Geoff sobered. "Just because I've always trusted you, doesn't mean that I'm not worried. And not just in the physical sense. I want you to be careful. Despite the nebulous nature of this case, it could blow up at any moment."

"Yes. I know." Robyn turned serious as well as she remembered what they had discussed during dinner. "Do you think it's possible that this has anything to do with the Anjanane woman's lithographs?" It seemed fanciful to her that anyone might connect Sam to a set of original lithographs which had originally belonged to a French woman nearly 50 years prior. That the lithographs were in Sauderbrandt's private collection was purely rumor.

"Anything is possible," Geoff replied.

"Yeah. What bothers me is how he might have come into possession of something like that. None of the items that he was given to restore qualify. And even the box that Sauderbrandt gave him only seems to contain dolls and books."

"It's the only lead we have at the moment. I'll have the box of goodies gone through to make sure that there isn’t something that we are missing. Meanwhile, research will keep digging and the ex-wife will be thoroughly checked out." He stooped to heft the box into his arms.

"There's nothing to worry about. Geoff Sommers is on the case," Robyn teased as she opened the door for him.

Geoff just laughed at her. "Good night, honey."

She watched until he got to his car, loaded the box into the backseat, then got in and started out of the driveway. She then set about securing the house for the night. An odd feeling came over her as she went through the routine motions of setting the alarm and checking all of the windows and locks. It was a proprietary sensation. She felt as if she was looking out for her own.

The last of the glasses that had been used during dinner were loaded into the dishwasher as Sam came to stand in the kitchen doorway. "Has your father gone?"

"Yes. About five minutes ago." She glanced over her shoulder and paused, her hand suspended in the act of reaching for the bottle of dishwasher detergent. The intensity in Sam's return gaze simply derailed her thoughts long enough for him to move into her personal space. He leaned down and pressed his mouth softly to hers. A myriad sensations flooded her system and her lips parted beneath his.

A breath sighed out of her as she unconsciously turned completely toward him, all thoughts of kitchen chores forgotten. She reveled in the feel of his hands reaching upward toward her face as their kiss deepened. This kiss wasn't like either of their earlier kisses. This time, the joining of their lips was backed by something with a drugging intensity, something almost tangible which felt as if it bound them on a sub-atomic level. And Robyn was drawn in, feeling as if she was sinking through delicious layers of quicksand.

When the loud ringing of the phone startled them apart, it was several moments of mildly shell-shocked gazes into each other's eyes before they realized just what had interrupted.

"I've wanted to do that all night," Sam said before reaching behind her to pick up the cordless receiver from the counter. He intertwined the fingers of his free hand with hers and kissed it before he answered the phone.

She felt the slight tightening of his fingers and the way he suddenly went stiff. She knew right away that something was wrong.