"I'm sorry. I usually only do glasswork appraisals for them, and those don't come up that often. I don't have anything to do with the sales and client side. I wouldn't even have known the bust belonged to your father except that I reviewed the other appraiser's report after I finished my examination, and that report included the chain of custody."
"Is that why you came here?" Hope asked.
"No. Not directly." I took another deep breath to steady myself, trying to untangle the threads of the story in my head. Too many people were involved and there was too much I didn't know. "Elliott said something to Thatcher about the thief heading to Sawyers Bend. I think—I don't know, but I think—that Elliot knows who took the statue. And whoever it is, they were headed here."
"Here to Sawyers Bend?" Hawk asked.
"No," I corrected, "here to Heartstone Manor."
Everyone sat back, not expecting that bit of information.
"But you don't know who? Or why they'd be coming here?" Tenn's eyes searched my face for an answer. I wished I had more to give him than a shake of my head.
"All I really know is that Elliot stole the statue for the Learys, then someone stole the statue from Elliot, and that person is bringing it to Sawyers Bend. And something Elliott said made Thatcher think they weren't just coming to the town, they were coming here, to Heartstone Manor. I have no idea who took it or why they'd want the sculpture. But if Elliot doesn't get it back to the Learys, they're going to kill him. Which would be his problem except he has my son."
Hawk set his phone down on the coffee table and pinned me with intent, dark eyes. "What's our goal here, Scarlett? Get the statue? Find the thief? Help your ex with the Learys? Find Thatcher?"
"Thatcher," I said without a moment of hesitation. "I don't care about the rest of it. I'm done cleaning up after Elliott's messes. He's my kids' dad, and they love him, so I don't want anything bad to happen to him, but this is his problem. He didn't have to steal, he chose to, and then he dragged our son into the line of fire. All I want is Thatcher."
Tenn shared a glance with Griffen. Griffen nodded. "I'll call Cooper, get him moving on this."
I wasn't sure who Cooper was, but I knew what Griffen's job used to be. "I want your help," I said, hating myself for being honest if it meant they'd withdraw their offer, "but I can't afford to call anyone in on this."
"Don't worry about it," Griffen said. "I've had their forensic accountant looking for the missing art and where the money went if it was sold, but it's worse than looking for a needle in a haystack. Finding your son is the priority, but if this leads to uncovering more of what our father was doing with the art collection, I think we can make a case that the Manor trust should cover the cost of the investigation."
My shoulders slumped with relief. Tenn had said Griffen used to work with the best private security company in the country. If anyone could find Thatcher, it would be them. Hawk held out a hand to Tenn, who leaned forward to give him my cell. Using my face to unlock the screen, Hawk pulled up Thatcher's call and started texting on his own phone. Muttering as he worked, he said, "Sending this over to Coop now so he can get moving on tracing the phone."
"They turned it off," I said.
The side of Hawk's mouth lifted in what I think was a smile. "Doesn't matter." Done typing, he lifted his head and shifted on the couch to face Griffen. "They need to go in soft when we find them if we want to recover the ex and the statue along with the kid."
"You think the ex is working with another buyer?" Griffen asked. That thought hadn't even occurred to me. Griffen focused his attention my way. "I know you said he wouldn't double-cross the Learys, but how sure are you about that?"
I wished I had a different answer. "Not sure enough. Elliott isn't stupid so much as greedy and lazy. And he has a gift for electronics. If it weren't for the laziness problem, he could have done something with his life. I want to think he's too smart to double-cross the Learys, but if he was really that smart, he wouldn't have taken the job in the first place. The last time I talked to Thatcher, about twenty-four hours after the statue went missing, Thatcher said he was sure the statue was on its way here."
"And when was that?" Hawk asked.
"Right before I loaded August in the car and headed down here." Thinking back, I added, "Last Thursday night." Less than a week. It felt like a lifetime.