Chapter 4
They spent the next few hours talking in a desultory manner. Benji told him more about his childhood and family life, and Jeddrick told Benji in turn about his own childhood(much less idyllic and with far more yelling and violence involved), and how he’d gone to college before deciding that all he wanted to do with his life was be a cop. Actually, he’d come up her to the Lake for a vacation, staying at a friend’s cabin, and had fallen in love with the place. So he’d decided to apply for the Sherriff’s Office, and they’d readily hired him. And his only regret was that there were no other gay men around for miles, a situation that had been altered by Benji’s moving to the Lake himself to paint in peace. So as far as he was concerned, life was pretty good right now. If only he could figure out the whole deal with the paintings and thwart these thieves, he’d be totally content.
By nine, Jeddrick decided to put Benji to bed. The artist was starting to look dragged, despite the lack of pain in his head. He had Benji get into his night clothes, which turned out to be real pajamas (and pink, no less!). When he padded out of his bedroom, Jeddrick eyed his ensemble. “Do you always wear those to bed?” he asked.
Benji looked down at himself. “Well, yes,” he admitted a little shame-facedly. “It was Granddad’s fault. He always wore pajamas to bed. I just got used to them, is all.”
“It’s okay. I’ve just never seen a guy under the age of sixty wear pajamas to bed,” Jeddrick said rather dryly as he got up and took his own overnight bag into the bathroom to put on his night clothes.
He put on the sweat pants and a short-sleeved t-shirt, and then went back out into the living room. Benji was sitting on the couch with a pillow and a blanket draped over his lap (Jeddrick wanted him to sleep on the couch so that he could wake Benji easily every hour to check on him). He’d put another blanket and a pillow on the smaller couch, ready for Jeddrick to use.
“I really appreciate you doing this,” Benji told him again in total gratitude as he sat down on the smaller couch. “I mean, I know you’re not going to get much sleep tonight…”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind,” Jeddrick reassured him as he lay down on the smaller couch and pulled the blanket over him. The couch wasn’t very comfortable, because he had to bend his legs to lay on it. Btu he didn’t complain as he watched Benji very carefully arrange himself on the longer couch and cover himself with the blanket.
“Goodnight, Jed,” Benji said softly.
“Goodnight, Benji. I’ll wake you in an hour,” Jeddrick told him.
“Okay,” the artist closed his eyes and was soon fast asleep, snoring very softly. Jeddrick lay still but didn’t try to sleep himself. He wasn’t that sleepy, and he rather enjoyed just watching Benji sleep. The artist’s eyelashes lay on his cheeks in a dark-brown fan, and his mouth looked pink and kissable. Jeddrick was terribly tempted to wake him up with a kiss, but knew that wasn’t a great idea. He set his watch and fastened it around his wrist, closing his eyes but not sleeping. He sort of dozed until the alarm beeped, then he got up and woke a groggy Benji briefly to check on him.
The entire night passed that way. Jeddrick couldn’t go into a deep sleep because he was waiting for the alarm to go off. Benji never fully woke up each time that Jeddrick roused him, which was fine. As long as he was responding it didn’t matter if he woke up completely. He needed all the sleep he could get.
Jeddrick was exhausted by the time he woke Benji up the next morning. His eyes felt grainy and his brain logy as he made them both some scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast and Benji looked at him worriedly. “You look tired,” he said unhappily.
Jeddrick yawned and scrubbed at the side of his face. “I am,” he admitted. “But at least it was only one night. I’ll sleep like the dead tonight, and until then I’ll drink a lot of coffee.”
Benji sighed. “I wish that you didn’t have to go to work when you didn’t get any sleep,” he remarked.
“It’s fine. I’ll be okay. Did you want to call that woman in Germany now? We have to do it quick so that I can get to work,” Jeddrick told him.
Benji looked eager. “Yes! Let’s call her,” he cried, nearly leaping to his feet.”Obviously he was feeling better this morning for a good night’s sleep. Jeddrick smiled slightly as they headed over to the couch and the land line phone.
Benji called up the number, and Jeddrick dialed it. It took a moment to connect, then began to ring. It rang several times, and he started to worry that no one was home. Then it was answered, and a woman’s voice spoke in German. “Hello,” he said. “I’m American. Can you speak any English?”
“Ja,” the woman said, and then spoke in heavily-accented English. “Guttentag. You say you are American?”
“Yes. My name is Jeddrick Curdy, and I’m a Sherriff’s deputy. I’m calling about your grandfather? Werner Van Pietz? He was a painter.”
“Ach, ja! He is my grandfather,” she acknowledged. “What do you wish to know about him?”
“Well, a friend of mine has some paintings that his own grandfather did during World War II,” Jeddrick began, speaking slowly and clearly for her benefit. “And he bought some used canvasses in Berlin to paint over them. The paintings were apparently done by your grandfather, Werner Van Pietz. I was just wondering – do you know if any of his paintings are worth anything? Because somebody wants to get their hands on these pictures pretty badly, to the point of trying to steal them. And we know it’s not because of my friend’s grandfather, so I was wondering if it might be because of your grandfather’s paintings instead.”
“Nein,” she said regretfully. “It cannot be because of my grandfather’s paintings. He was not a good painter. None of his works ever appreciated in value, even after he died. He did paint in Berlin during the War. But…” she trailed off. “Perhaps…”
“Yes?” he said eagerly. “Is there anything you can tell me?”
“Perhaps. I inherited most of my grandfather’s works when my mother passed away a few years ago. I have them stored in my attic. About two months ago, a man came to my door wishing to look at them. He said that he was searching for certain paintings that my grandfather had done during the War, though he would not tell me which ones or why he wanted them. I did not question him because he offered me a good deal of money to buy them off of me if I had the right ones. He went through all of the paintings carefully, but was disappointed. He seemed angry and upset when he left. He said his name was Friedrich Engerhoff, but I’m not sure that was his real name. Once I spoke to him, and he didn’t turn toward me when I did.”
“So he left? And he didn’t tell you what he wanted the paintings for or which ones he wanted?” Jeddrick asked, feeling rather disappointed.
“Ja. I am sorry that I cannot help you more. I was very curious at the time to know why anyone wanted one of my grandfather’s paintings so badly.”
Jeddrick wanted to curse again, but instead he asked: “Can you give me a description of him? Do you remember what he looked like?”
“He was dark. He had dark hair and eyes. Not handsome, but not ugly either. Polished, but not charming. Fairly young I think, in his twenties. A young man’s passion. He made sharp gestures and was very intense. I cannot tell you more.”
“That’s enough, thank you for your time,” Jeddrick said. “I really appreciate you speaking to me today.”
“I was glad to help. If you find this man and discover why he wanted those paintings, could you perhaps call and tell me? As a favor for helping you now.”
“I’d be glad to ,” he assured her.
“Thank you. I must go now; my children will be home from school soon. Good luck.”
He thanked her again and hung up the phone. Benji looked at him hopefully, but he shook his head. He relayed the entire conversation, and the artist visibly deflated. “I thought she might know,” he said glumly.
“So did I, but at least she gave us some information. We know that a guy using a phony name came to her house looking for some of her grandfather’s paintings, and that its most likely the same guy who came here to rob you twice. We have a somewhat sketchy description of him, which is better than nothing. We just don’t know why he wants Werner Van Pietz’s paintings so bad, since his own granddaughter says that they’re pretty much worthless. And why is he only looking for specific ones? There must be something special about those paintings, we just don’t know what.”
“But I went over those paintings with a fine-tooth comb,” Benji said, frowning a bit. “They didn’t have frames, and I checked the backs and the edges to make sure that they didn’t have any papers taped to them or something. Nothing. So if neither Granddad’s paintings or this guy Werner’s paintings were worth anything, why is someone going to all of this trouble to try to steal them?”
“That’d the million dollar question,” Jeddrick agreed wryly. “And I’m out of ideas. Listen,” he began after pausing for a moment. “I know those guys will come back. They’re determined to get those paintings. So until you’re safe, I think that I should sleep here every night. Is that all right with you?”
“Oh, yes!” Benji said eagerly, then blushed and looked away as he realized just how eager he actually sounded. “That would be nice,” he added more softly.
“Great. I’ll bring some more of my stuff over here tonight after work. You stay inside and don’t let anybody in, just like yesterday. Okay?”
“Yes, Jeddrick, I will,” Benji reassured him. “Will you be home for lunch?” he asked, then blushed even more deeply as he realized what he’d just said once again.
Jeddrick chose to ignore the blush, though he thought it charming. “I’ll come back for lunch, yes. I want to check on you,” he said firmly.
“I’ll make us sandwiches and salads, then. Those are easy to do,” Benji said.
“All right. I’ll see you in a few hours,” Jeddrick reluctantly left the cabin, and Benji came as far as the door to wave him off as he drove away to work.
Benji opened his front door with a big smile on his face. “Hi, Jed!” he said enthusiastically, as though he hadn’t seen the deputy in several years.
Jeddrick’s lips twitched a bit. “How’s everything going? How’s your head?” he asked as he walked into the cabin.
“It’s better. It still hurts a little, but my eyes aren’t acting up anymore. I worked on my newest painting for about half the morning, and my eyes weren’t crossing,” Benji told him happily.
“That’s good. You didn’t go outside, did you?”
Benji sighed, looking like an unhappy puppy at this question. “No, I didn’t. But it’s so hard! I love taking walks in the morning – the air is so still, and the birds are chirping, and it smells really great. I hate being cooped up in here like it’s a prison instead of my house,” he looked around mournfully, and Jeddrick felt a lance of pity go through him.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said, “When I get back tonight I’ll go for a walk with you. Since its going onto summer, the sun won’t be all the way down yet when I arrive. We could circle the lake and watch it set together. What do you say?”
“I’d love that!” Benji cried, brightening up immediately. “Sunset is my second favorite time of the day. Sunrise being my first, of course. I love to paint the Lake when the sun is rising or setting, the colors reflected in the water are fantastic.”
“It’s a deal. Do you need me to get anything for you while I’m in town?” Jeddrick asked as he hung up his coat on the rack.
“Sure. I need some groceries, especially since you’re going to be staying here at night. And some other stuff, too…I’ll make you a list. If that’s okay?”
“Of course it is. I’ll swing by the grocery store on my way back here tonight.”
“Thanks. Lunch is ready,” Benji began to bustle in-and-out of the kitchen, proving that he really was feeling a lot better today. Jeddrick smiled slightly, glad to see the artist returning to his normal self. He wouldn’t soon forget the sight of Benji lying on the ground like that, so still and with blood on the back of his head. He silently vowed once again to catch these bastards and make them pay for attacking Benji like that.
He let Benji prattle on as he ate his lunch and thought hard. But he couldn’t come up with any ideas about just why these German guys seemed to want those paintings so bad. Finally he asked: “hey, Benji. You said you looked those paintings over thoroughly, right?”
The artist looked surprised, then nodded. “Yeah. I checked everything to see if there was anything hidden on them - like things written on the back or on the sides, clues in the painting itself, stuff glued to the pictures, everything. I couldn’t find anything.”
Jeddrick frowned. “Isn’t there a way for you to see the pictures underneath? The Werner Van Pietz paintings? See if there’s anything strange about them?”
“There is, yes,” Benji said slowly. “I could have them x-rayed. But it takes special equipment, which you can’t find around here. I’d have to take them into the city. I can do that, but I’d have to make an appointment. So we wouldn’t be able to see the results right away.”
“That’s fine. As long as we can look at those paintings and see if they have anything to do with this. Anything to get some answers about why these guys want your granddad’s paintings so much.”
“You’re right. I’ll call today and set up an appointment. We have to try everything, right? There’s got to be something special about those paintings, or they wouldn’t want them so bad.”
“That’s what I’m figuring,” Jeddrick agreed. “It can’t hurt to try.”
“Right. I’ll call once you go back to work.” Benji told him.
He left Benji to his painting and his phone call finally, reluctantly going back to work. He didn’t like leaving the artist alone for any length of time, not when those German guys were still lurking around out there somewhere. But he had no choice, and Benji understood that. He promised to keep the doors locked and the security system turned on until Jeddrick came back, and handed him the list of things they needed from the store. He had to quell an urge to kiss Benji goodbye on the doorstep, although it wasn’t easy. He was already starting to feel like a man in a relationship, even though he hadn’t yet asked Benji out on even one date. He really had to get to that; he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to sleep on Benji’s couch without getting the terrible urge to molest the man.
The day seemed to plod by. He resisted the urge to call a dozen times, and only phoned Benji twice to see that everything was okay. When he entered the station as he was getting ready to bolt for the day, he saw Dolores smirking at him from her desk. He gave her an innocent look, which made her laugh. “What?” he said, as though he didn’t know why she was looking at him that way.
Her lips twitched visibly. “How’s Benji doing?” she asked with a wicked gleam in her eyes.
Jeddrick sighed. “He’s fine. He was painting when I left.”
She nodded. “Uh huh. And I bet you called him a dozen times today to check on him, didn’t you?”
He glowered at her. “No, only twice,” he informed her somewhat stiffly. He didn’t like being teased about his love life.
Dolores chuckled. “Jed, you shouldn’t be so defensive. I think this whole thing is cute. Manly cop loses heart to sensitive artist, and heroically defends him against evil painting snatchers.”
He grimaced. “That sounds like the blurb to a bad gay romance,” he said in disgust.
She grinned. “Maybe. But it’s still cute as all get out. When you two marry and settle down together…”
He held up a staying hand. “Whoa there. You’re getting way ahead of me. We haven’t even gone on a single date yet, and gay marriage isn’t legal in this state anyway.”
Dolores shrugged. “Technicalities. Anyway, I made these for you guys,” she produced a paper plate covered with Saran wrap. “Cookies. Tell Benji I hope his head feels better,” she added.
He took the plate. “I’ll do that,” he said. “Thanks for these, Dolores.”
“You’re welcome. See you tomorrow, Jed,” she said as he waved and made his way inside to go off shift.
Go to Next Chapter
They spent the next few hours talking in a desultory manner. Benji told him more about his childhood and family life, and Jeddrick told Benji in turn about his own childhood(much less idyllic and with far more yelling and violence involved), and how he’d gone to college before deciding that all he wanted to do with his life was be a cop. Actually, he’d come up her to the Lake for a vacation, staying at a friend’s cabin, and had fallen in love with the place. So he’d decided to apply for the Sherriff’s Office, and they’d readily hired him. And his only regret was that there were no other gay men around for miles, a situation that had been altered by Benji’s moving to the Lake himself to paint in peace. So as far as he was concerned, life was pretty good right now. If only he could figure out the whole deal with the paintings and thwart these thieves, he’d be totally content.
By nine, Jeddrick decided to put Benji to bed. The artist was starting to look dragged, despite the lack of pain in his head. He had Benji get into his night clothes, which turned out to be real pajamas (and pink, no less!). When he padded out of his bedroom, Jeddrick eyed his ensemble. “Do you always wear those to bed?” he asked.
Benji looked down at himself. “Well, yes,” he admitted a little shame-facedly. “It was Granddad’s fault. He always wore pajamas to bed. I just got used to them, is all.”
“It’s okay. I’ve just never seen a guy under the age of sixty wear pajamas to bed,” Jeddrick said rather dryly as he got up and took his own overnight bag into the bathroom to put on his night clothes.
He put on the sweat pants and a short-sleeved t-shirt, and then went back out into the living room. Benji was sitting on the couch with a pillow and a blanket draped over his lap (Jeddrick wanted him to sleep on the couch so that he could wake Benji easily every hour to check on him). He’d put another blanket and a pillow on the smaller couch, ready for Jeddrick to use.
“I really appreciate you doing this,” Benji told him again in total gratitude as he sat down on the smaller couch. “I mean, I know you’re not going to get much sleep tonight…”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind,” Jeddrick reassured him as he lay down on the smaller couch and pulled the blanket over him. The couch wasn’t very comfortable, because he had to bend his legs to lay on it. Btu he didn’t complain as he watched Benji very carefully arrange himself on the longer couch and cover himself with the blanket.
“Goodnight, Jed,” Benji said softly.
“Goodnight, Benji. I’ll wake you in an hour,” Jeddrick told him.
“Okay,” the artist closed his eyes and was soon fast asleep, snoring very softly. Jeddrick lay still but didn’t try to sleep himself. He wasn’t that sleepy, and he rather enjoyed just watching Benji sleep. The artist’s eyelashes lay on his cheeks in a dark-brown fan, and his mouth looked pink and kissable. Jeddrick was terribly tempted to wake him up with a kiss, but knew that wasn’t a great idea. He set his watch and fastened it around his wrist, closing his eyes but not sleeping. He sort of dozed until the alarm beeped, then he got up and woke a groggy Benji briefly to check on him.
The entire night passed that way. Jeddrick couldn’t go into a deep sleep because he was waiting for the alarm to go off. Benji never fully woke up each time that Jeddrick roused him, which was fine. As long as he was responding it didn’t matter if he woke up completely. He needed all the sleep he could get.
Jeddrick was exhausted by the time he woke Benji up the next morning. His eyes felt grainy and his brain logy as he made them both some scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast and Benji looked at him worriedly. “You look tired,” he said unhappily.
Jeddrick yawned and scrubbed at the side of his face. “I am,” he admitted. “But at least it was only one night. I’ll sleep like the dead tonight, and until then I’ll drink a lot of coffee.”
Benji sighed. “I wish that you didn’t have to go to work when you didn’t get any sleep,” he remarked.
“It’s fine. I’ll be okay. Did you want to call that woman in Germany now? We have to do it quick so that I can get to work,” Jeddrick told him.
Benji looked eager. “Yes! Let’s call her,” he cried, nearly leaping to his feet.”Obviously he was feeling better this morning for a good night’s sleep. Jeddrick smiled slightly as they headed over to the couch and the land line phone.
Benji called up the number, and Jeddrick dialed it. It took a moment to connect, then began to ring. It rang several times, and he started to worry that no one was home. Then it was answered, and a woman’s voice spoke in German. “Hello,” he said. “I’m American. Can you speak any English?”
“Ja,” the woman said, and then spoke in heavily-accented English. “Guttentag. You say you are American?”
“Yes. My name is Jeddrick Curdy, and I’m a Sherriff’s deputy. I’m calling about your grandfather? Werner Van Pietz? He was a painter.”
“Ach, ja! He is my grandfather,” she acknowledged. “What do you wish to know about him?”
“Well, a friend of mine has some paintings that his own grandfather did during World War II,” Jeddrick began, speaking slowly and clearly for her benefit. “And he bought some used canvasses in Berlin to paint over them. The paintings were apparently done by your grandfather, Werner Van Pietz. I was just wondering – do you know if any of his paintings are worth anything? Because somebody wants to get their hands on these pictures pretty badly, to the point of trying to steal them. And we know it’s not because of my friend’s grandfather, so I was wondering if it might be because of your grandfather’s paintings instead.”
“Nein,” she said regretfully. “It cannot be because of my grandfather’s paintings. He was not a good painter. None of his works ever appreciated in value, even after he died. He did paint in Berlin during the War. But…” she trailed off. “Perhaps…”
“Yes?” he said eagerly. “Is there anything you can tell me?”
“Perhaps. I inherited most of my grandfather’s works when my mother passed away a few years ago. I have them stored in my attic. About two months ago, a man came to my door wishing to look at them. He said that he was searching for certain paintings that my grandfather had done during the War, though he would not tell me which ones or why he wanted them. I did not question him because he offered me a good deal of money to buy them off of me if I had the right ones. He went through all of the paintings carefully, but was disappointed. He seemed angry and upset when he left. He said his name was Friedrich Engerhoff, but I’m not sure that was his real name. Once I spoke to him, and he didn’t turn toward me when I did.”
“So he left? And he didn’t tell you what he wanted the paintings for or which ones he wanted?” Jeddrick asked, feeling rather disappointed.
“Ja. I am sorry that I cannot help you more. I was very curious at the time to know why anyone wanted one of my grandfather’s paintings so badly.”
Jeddrick wanted to curse again, but instead he asked: “Can you give me a description of him? Do you remember what he looked like?”
“He was dark. He had dark hair and eyes. Not handsome, but not ugly either. Polished, but not charming. Fairly young I think, in his twenties. A young man’s passion. He made sharp gestures and was very intense. I cannot tell you more.”
“That’s enough, thank you for your time,” Jeddrick said. “I really appreciate you speaking to me today.”
“I was glad to help. If you find this man and discover why he wanted those paintings, could you perhaps call and tell me? As a favor for helping you now.”
“I’d be glad to ,” he assured her.
“Thank you. I must go now; my children will be home from school soon. Good luck.”
He thanked her again and hung up the phone. Benji looked at him hopefully, but he shook his head. He relayed the entire conversation, and the artist visibly deflated. “I thought she might know,” he said glumly.
“So did I, but at least she gave us some information. We know that a guy using a phony name came to her house looking for some of her grandfather’s paintings, and that its most likely the same guy who came here to rob you twice. We have a somewhat sketchy description of him, which is better than nothing. We just don’t know why he wants Werner Van Pietz’s paintings so bad, since his own granddaughter says that they’re pretty much worthless. And why is he only looking for specific ones? There must be something special about those paintings, we just don’t know what.”
“But I went over those paintings with a fine-tooth comb,” Benji said, frowning a bit. “They didn’t have frames, and I checked the backs and the edges to make sure that they didn’t have any papers taped to them or something. Nothing. So if neither Granddad’s paintings or this guy Werner’s paintings were worth anything, why is someone going to all of this trouble to try to steal them?”
“That’d the million dollar question,” Jeddrick agreed wryly. “And I’m out of ideas. Listen,” he began after pausing for a moment. “I know those guys will come back. They’re determined to get those paintings. So until you’re safe, I think that I should sleep here every night. Is that all right with you?”
“Oh, yes!” Benji said eagerly, then blushed and looked away as he realized just how eager he actually sounded. “That would be nice,” he added more softly.
“Great. I’ll bring some more of my stuff over here tonight after work. You stay inside and don’t let anybody in, just like yesterday. Okay?”
“Yes, Jeddrick, I will,” Benji reassured him. “Will you be home for lunch?” he asked, then blushed even more deeply as he realized what he’d just said once again.
Jeddrick chose to ignore the blush, though he thought it charming. “I’ll come back for lunch, yes. I want to check on you,” he said firmly.
“I’ll make us sandwiches and salads, then. Those are easy to do,” Benji said.
“All right. I’ll see you in a few hours,” Jeddrick reluctantly left the cabin, and Benji came as far as the door to wave him off as he drove away to work.
Benji opened his front door with a big smile on his face. “Hi, Jed!” he said enthusiastically, as though he hadn’t seen the deputy in several years.
Jeddrick’s lips twitched a bit. “How’s everything going? How’s your head?” he asked as he walked into the cabin.
“It’s better. It still hurts a little, but my eyes aren’t acting up anymore. I worked on my newest painting for about half the morning, and my eyes weren’t crossing,” Benji told him happily.
“That’s good. You didn’t go outside, did you?”
Benji sighed, looking like an unhappy puppy at this question. “No, I didn’t. But it’s so hard! I love taking walks in the morning – the air is so still, and the birds are chirping, and it smells really great. I hate being cooped up in here like it’s a prison instead of my house,” he looked around mournfully, and Jeddrick felt a lance of pity go through him.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said, “When I get back tonight I’ll go for a walk with you. Since its going onto summer, the sun won’t be all the way down yet when I arrive. We could circle the lake and watch it set together. What do you say?”
“I’d love that!” Benji cried, brightening up immediately. “Sunset is my second favorite time of the day. Sunrise being my first, of course. I love to paint the Lake when the sun is rising or setting, the colors reflected in the water are fantastic.”
“It’s a deal. Do you need me to get anything for you while I’m in town?” Jeddrick asked as he hung up his coat on the rack.
“Sure. I need some groceries, especially since you’re going to be staying here at night. And some other stuff, too…I’ll make you a list. If that’s okay?”
“Of course it is. I’ll swing by the grocery store on my way back here tonight.”
“Thanks. Lunch is ready,” Benji began to bustle in-and-out of the kitchen, proving that he really was feeling a lot better today. Jeddrick smiled slightly, glad to see the artist returning to his normal self. He wouldn’t soon forget the sight of Benji lying on the ground like that, so still and with blood on the back of his head. He silently vowed once again to catch these bastards and make them pay for attacking Benji like that.
He let Benji prattle on as he ate his lunch and thought hard. But he couldn’t come up with any ideas about just why these German guys seemed to want those paintings so bad. Finally he asked: “hey, Benji. You said you looked those paintings over thoroughly, right?”
The artist looked surprised, then nodded. “Yeah. I checked everything to see if there was anything hidden on them - like things written on the back or on the sides, clues in the painting itself, stuff glued to the pictures, everything. I couldn’t find anything.”
Jeddrick frowned. “Isn’t there a way for you to see the pictures underneath? The Werner Van Pietz paintings? See if there’s anything strange about them?”
“There is, yes,” Benji said slowly. “I could have them x-rayed. But it takes special equipment, which you can’t find around here. I’d have to take them into the city. I can do that, but I’d have to make an appointment. So we wouldn’t be able to see the results right away.”
“That’s fine. As long as we can look at those paintings and see if they have anything to do with this. Anything to get some answers about why these guys want your granddad’s paintings so much.”
“You’re right. I’ll call today and set up an appointment. We have to try everything, right? There’s got to be something special about those paintings, or they wouldn’t want them so bad.”
“That’s what I’m figuring,” Jeddrick agreed. “It can’t hurt to try.”
“Right. I’ll call once you go back to work.” Benji told him.
He left Benji to his painting and his phone call finally, reluctantly going back to work. He didn’t like leaving the artist alone for any length of time, not when those German guys were still lurking around out there somewhere. But he had no choice, and Benji understood that. He promised to keep the doors locked and the security system turned on until Jeddrick came back, and handed him the list of things they needed from the store. He had to quell an urge to kiss Benji goodbye on the doorstep, although it wasn’t easy. He was already starting to feel like a man in a relationship, even though he hadn’t yet asked Benji out on even one date. He really had to get to that; he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to sleep on Benji’s couch without getting the terrible urge to molest the man.
The day seemed to plod by. He resisted the urge to call a dozen times, and only phoned Benji twice to see that everything was okay. When he entered the station as he was getting ready to bolt for the day, he saw Dolores smirking at him from her desk. He gave her an innocent look, which made her laugh. “What?” he said, as though he didn’t know why she was looking at him that way.
Her lips twitched visibly. “How’s Benji doing?” she asked with a wicked gleam in her eyes.
Jeddrick sighed. “He’s fine. He was painting when I left.”
She nodded. “Uh huh. And I bet you called him a dozen times today to check on him, didn’t you?”
He glowered at her. “No, only twice,” he informed her somewhat stiffly. He didn’t like being teased about his love life.
Dolores chuckled. “Jed, you shouldn’t be so defensive. I think this whole thing is cute. Manly cop loses heart to sensitive artist, and heroically defends him against evil painting snatchers.”
He grimaced. “That sounds like the blurb to a bad gay romance,” he said in disgust.
She grinned. “Maybe. But it’s still cute as all get out. When you two marry and settle down together…”
He held up a staying hand. “Whoa there. You’re getting way ahead of me. We haven’t even gone on a single date yet, and gay marriage isn’t legal in this state anyway.”
Dolores shrugged. “Technicalities. Anyway, I made these for you guys,” she produced a paper plate covered with Saran wrap. “Cookies. Tell Benji I hope his head feels better,” she added.
He took the plate. “I’ll do that,” he said. “Thanks for these, Dolores.”
“You’re welcome. See you tomorrow, Jed,” she said as he waved and made his way inside to go off shift.
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