Stealing Bradford

13

“THANKS FOR DINNER,” DJ told Co

“It’s nice we have similar taste,” he said.

“Well, I don’t always eat cheap greasy food.”

He frowned. “You mean you didn’t really like it?”

“No, I totally loved it, Co

“Oh, okay.”

DJ glanced at her watch. “Is it too early to go to the art walk?”

“Nah, I noticed some people were already walking around when I came by to pick you up. You know, the old-timers who can’t be out too late.” He drove through town and finally parked in a small lot behind The Mockingbird Gallery.

“Uh-oh,” said DJ as they got inside. She pointed to the lime green Vespa parked right out the back door.

“Taylor?”

“Yep.” DJ had already told Co

“Do you think Rhia

“I don’t see Eliza’s car anywhere.”

“Or Harry’s Jeep.”

Co

“Sorry,” she said trying to control herself. “But I feel like such a phony.”

“Hello and welcome to The Mockingbird,” said a woman with a heavy French accent. “I am Gabrielle Bruyere.”

“We’re friends of Bradford, Mrs. Bruyere,” said Co

“But, of course.” She smiled warmly. “But, please, call me Gabrielle. Or even Gabbie. And know that any friend of my son is a friend of mine.”

“They’re my friends too,” said Taylor as she emerged with Bradford on her arm. “In fact, DJ, which is short for Desiree, is my roommate.”

“Ah, Desiree, that is French,” said Gabrielle.

“Yes,” admitted DJ. “My mother lived in France for a while. She loved their culture and language. But I think that Desiree Jea

“And you and Taylor are roommates? How much fun you girls must have! I can only imagine.”

DJ sort of laughed. “Yes, it’s pretty unbelievable.”

“And you are both so beautiful. Are all the Carter House girls such rare beauties?” Taylor chuckled. “You know what they say—beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.”

“Well, I am beholding you both, and I declare you are both beautiful.” Gabrielle pulled the two girls together and stared at them. “Look, boys, are they not beautiful? Such opposites…I would like to paint them together.”

“Do you want me to put this CD in now?” asked Bradford.

“Yes, of course,” said Gabrielle. She smiled at Taylor. “A signed CD from one of my favorite musicians—such a rare treat.” She turned to DJ. “Your roommate has a very talented mother, no?”

“So does your son,” said Taylor. “I’m still amazed at your art, Gabbie. I think I’m going to have to buy that oil of the koi pond for my mother for Christmas. It would be perfect in her bedroom.”

Gabrielle clapped her hands. “A piece of my art in Eva Perez’s boudoir? I could not be happier.” She put her arm around Taylor and squeezed her tight. “You are so adorable!”

Just then, the sounds of Eva’s deep, rich voice singing Latino jazz filled the room, and Gabrielle looked even happier. “Oh, this is going to be a wonderful evening. Desiree and Co

Before long, the gallery was overflowing with visitors, and DJ started to feel claustrophobic. Eliza, Rhia

“Hello?” said Eliza from across the room, although DJ could barely hear her on the phone.

“It’s DJ,” she said, waving past the crowd.

“Oh, there you are.” Eliza waved back. “Is Bradford here?”

“Yes, but—”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know…maybe in back, but I need—”

“Do you see how great Rhia

“Yes, but I—”

“We’ll go look for him. I think a behind-the-scenes rendezvous is just what they—”

“Eliza,” said DJ, “We need to talk.”

“Of course, we do. But not like this. Gotta go, sweetie.” Then she hung up.

DJ continued to wave from where she was cornered between a bronze Viking statue and a barrel-chested man who smelled like tobacco. But Eliza, totally oblivious, simply waved back as she guided Rhia

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

“Rhia

He sighed. “Oh, DJ, there’s really not much we can do. Bradford and Taylor really seem to like each other.”

“But I feel so badly for Rhia

“We all do, but she’s going to have to get over it.”

“But Eliza was so sure she could fix this.”

“You girls and the games you play,” he teased.

“Not me,” she protested. “The only games I play usually involve balls and nets and te

“Wa

She nodded. “Yes, please, before I pass out from lack of oxygen.”

It felt wonderful to be out in the fresh air again. DJ took in a long, deep breath. “Ahh…”

“Want to look at any of the other galleries?”

“I don’t know…not if they’re packed like that,” said DJ.

“There’s one down there that probably won’t be. It’s not the most popular, but I like it.”

“Which one?”

“The Grotto.”

“The one with the fishing nets and stuff outside?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of tacky, but I’ve always liked it. My grandpa used to bring me there when I was a kid. They only have art that’s related to fishing and boats and the sea.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Co

“And what’s this you’re working on?” asked Co

“It’s called The Burning of the Black Prince,” he said, standing back to peer at his own unfinished painting.

It was a dark painting, and although it was unfinished, DJ could see the frame of an old-fashioned ship surrounded by smoke and with orange flames shooting up and reflected on the water. “It’s kind of eerie looking, isn’t it?” she said and then wondered if that sounded bad. “I mean I actually get a chill down my spine when I look at it.”

He gri

“What’s it about?” asked Co

“The Black Prince was a schooner built in the early 1800s. It was built to carry cargo, but the way it was outfitted—pierced for eighteen ca