Chapter 19

At once, he referred back to DutchMasterNet. Somehow, a smiling picture of me wound up on the site, identifying me as the painter of the work Casper had bought.

Police were called. Fairuza and I were asked to come down to Casper’s gallery to explain ourselves. Rosalie and “Delia Blantyre” came as well. Darren, weighed down with suitcases, stopped by on the way to the airport.

The tall, copper-haired officer had an angry expression on his handsome face when he looked at us. I had to suppress fantasies of him spanking me. Casper had been driving him insane for the last two days. He motioned us past a group of reporters from various art publications.

“Folks, I’m Officer Aaron Sanders. Let’s get down to business. Which one of you is passing yourself off as a seventeenth-century artist?”

None of us answered.