The Painting

#21 The Switch - An T-athru

I stared down at the phone. I had to call the police. It was my duty, tonight I proved to myself that I was no good at playing a vigilante or even a fleeting one. After all what was my other option?

My hand rose to cradle the once shiny silver locket that hung at my neck. Grainy sepia toned photos of my mother flickered through my mind's eye. They stayed clear only for a moment as if they were on an old movie projector. I tried my best to focus on my mother's eyes, "the gate to a person's soul" Grace always recounted whimsically.

What had my mother been thinking when she left me? A question that I never seemed to evade, no matter how many years went by. Here I was nearly twenty-two and I had no new information to answer the question that seemed to be tattooed on my tongue. Always at the tip but never did I so much as mumble it aloud. That would make it too real.

I looked down at the card I held in my hand. The man who paid two men to come into White Pine - my home - and steal my mother's painting.

Rick Monroe.

I'd never heard his name before. No one ever contacted my social worker Martha after my mother's disappearance. No family, no friends, no one. It was like she was an invisible woman. Even in her photo albums there were only a few of herself.

I'd always supposed that there had to be someone else behind the camera, at least of the ones that showed her painting in such a serene state. It never occurred to me - or maybe I blocked it out - that those could have been posed. They were just too natural. But even if this Monroe man knew my mother why was he going through such great lengths to steal her painting?

I would have welcomed him if he'd reached out to me. For god's sake I was starving to meet anyone that knew her, I would even jump at the chance to meet her regular bank teller. My sleep deprived mind swam in 'what if's' surrounding the motive behind the painting.

Over and over again I fell on one fact. Something that Lyle alone couldn't answer for me.

I wanted - no, wanted wasn't a strong enough word - I needed to know why my life had just been put at risk, and why someone was looking so desperately for her painting.

There was only one way I could find out.

"I'll take you to it." I blurted out.

Shit.

I snapped my mouth shut a bit bewildered at what I'd just offered up. Did I truly want this? Surely I was being naive to think that I could commission Lyle to use her wiles to set up a meeting with this Monroe man. And even more out of my mind to think that he would spill whatever it is motivated him to send a hit squad after a simple paint landscape.

Lyle's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she watched me attempt to settle myself after my surprising outburst. I dropped my hands to my lap to prevent them from playing with my necklace.

"You will?" She implored as her eyebrows raised quizzically.

I could almost see the apprehension as it raced through her mind. What changed within me to prompt this sudden shift in character? I was a simple hostess from a sleepy town, why was I so willing to risk my life? And for what, a payout? Was I like her?

"Look, you don't have the painting without me. And without the painting you don't get an easy payout." I replied with all the confidence I could muster even though I could feel my heart pounding like a drum in my chest.

"You want me to help you give your painting to some nut that almost had us killed?" She cocked her head to the side as she tried to suss out if I was being truthful or if it was a bout of insanity.

"Sure it's just like an adrenaline junkies antiques roadshow." My limbs fluttered about before I wedged them under my thighs again.

She laughed humorlessly. "And what's in it for you?" A lopsided grin formed on her amused face. She sobered suddenly, the worries of the evening lifted from her and I wondered how many similar life and death situations she'd been in.

I glanced around the bathroom nervously, my plan was half baked at most. How the hell would I even begin to explain Unit #16, and more over what was I going to do once we made the trade off with Monroe?

There was no way that I could come clean to Lyle. Not now when there was still so much I didn't know. I couldn't let her find out I was not the true artist of Mo Soileireacht. I would continue my charade as the paintings true owner until I figured out what to do next.

I would come up with something wouldn't I?

Lyle frowned slightly as she waited for an answer that I was taking too long to supply. There was only one reason that people continued to do stupid shit, well one of two.

Money or love.

"We split it 50/50." I stated plainly. Money was Lyle's drive to attempt the theft in the first place. Why wouldn't it work now? "I don't even like that painting that much." I threw in trying to lock down my reasoning for so easily giving up 'my' work.

She went silent for a moment as she took on my proposal. I tried to avoid her eyes as Grace's words came back to me and I wondered if she would be able to discern my real motive.

Love, I needed answers about my mother.

"Aren't you afraid I'll double cross you May?" Her voice was much colder than before as if she were trying to scare me off.

I almost laughed. Of course I was afraid, but for some reason Lyle was low on the list of people I was worried about. For starters she didn't carry a gun, but moreover for some, maybe inane reason I trusted her. I'd flipped the switch and walked out of the room. For once in my life I felt no apprehension toward a decision I made.

The concept of meeting Monroe occupied and overrode the dangers that the rational part of my brain tried and failed to squeeze in.

"Then do it." I challenged. "You've had the chance to do so twice already." I referred to the instances just hours before where she and I found ourselves in life threatening situations. She could have left me in room #9, or running beside the train. But she didn't. Naive or not that had to mean something. "Plus you owe me one." I indicated to her bandaged arm.

"I wouldn't have needed a bandage if you hadn't got us shot at." Lyle countered a smile slowly forming as she joked with me.

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh I got us shot at? I seem to remember that being a group effort."

A grin pulled at the ends of her mouth as she nodded in conceit. "Then I guess I owe you an apology."

"Damn right you do."

Lyle shrugged in agreement and reached her hand out to mine. "Alright then, we have a deal. We'll play this one together."

I moved my thighs so I was no longer sitting on my hands and met her for a firm handshake. A rueful smile played on my lips. "Aren't you afraid I'll double cross you?" I shot back.

"Only time will tell."

Her ominous words hung in the cramped room and I wondered to myself what kind of deal I'd just made. 

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Hmm what has our May gotten herself into ??? Do you think May will regret her deal with Lyle ? 

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