The Memory Painter

She still couldn’t believe that he was gone. Her mind had already started projecting into the future, imagining when their paths would cross again, knowing with certainty that, one day, they would. If Bryan had remembered his lifetimes without any help from the drug, then Conrad might be able to as well in his next life. He would find them. Linz had to believe it. She had to hope.

Her thoughts turned to Finn, knowing that they too would meet again—at the trial. She had given her statement and then turned the matter over to the police. The court date had not yet been decided. But even after he was convicted for Conrad’s murder, she knew that sitting in a cell for the remainder of his life would not cause him to repent. There was too much malice within him.

Linz stared at the coffin. She didn’t want to watch the undertaker cover it in earth or receive condolences afterward. Ignoring Penelope and Derek’s distressed looks, she walked away and got into the waiting limo. The driver hung up his cell phone and started the car.

She had met her father’s driver on a few occasions over the past few years, whenever she had ridden with Conrad to a function. But all she really knew about him was that he went by the name Vadim and was originally from somewhere in Russia. He had worked for her father the last ten years, and he had always seemed like a bodyguard more than anything else. She caught him looking at her in the rearview mirror—the poor man was probably worried he would lose his job. It only reminded her of how little she knew about her father’s private affairs.

“Where to, Dr. Jacobs?”

“My house for a minute so I can change and then to the office,” she said. She had a long night ahead of her.

Linz planned to return to Egypt as soon as Bryan contacted her, and she had to make sure that the company would run smoothly when she disappeared. Yesterday she had held a board meeting and they had mapped out a forecast for the next six months. As for her research, she had placed Maggie in charge of the lab. She knew her team would keep everything moving forward in her absence.

Tomorrow, she would begin to tackle her father’s belongings—she was already planning to donate his antique collection to several museums.

Her cell phone rang, flashing a number she didn’t recognize. “Hello?”

“Lindsey Jacobs?” an authoritative voice asked.

“Yes.” The man sounded like the police. She had finally grown used to them.

“This is Mitch Tanner from TDC Security. I’ve been instructed to contact you in the event of your father’s passing. First, I’d like to offer my condolences.”

Linz frowned. She had no clue what this call was about. “Thank you.”

“We need to know how you would like to proceed with the warehouses?”

“What warehouses?”

“Your father has three warehouses by the wharf. He didn’t tell you?”

Linz rubbed her forehead. “Why does he have three warehouses?”

“As you’re probably aware, he was an avid collector of relics and artifacts.”

It took Linz a minute to realize that Conrad had amassed a collection so large it required three warehouses. “Mr. Tanner, I appreciate the call, but I’m just leaving the service. I will call you soon to schedule an appointment to tour the buildings. Until then, just keep everything as is.”

Linz listened to his profuse apologies and then signed off. She leaned back and stared out the window, wondering what in the world Conrad had kept there. It was just one more item on the incredible list of things she had to deal with. She didn’t even want to be in Boston, and she was frustrated that she hadn’t heard from Bryan. It had been well over a week since she’d left Egypt—in reality it wasn’t that long, but, to her, it felt like an eternity.

Part of her worried that he would never remember his life there. But she had to believe he would. Her mind went back to the portrait of Ma’at she had seen in Bryan’s studio. He had already painted the ancient seer without even knowing it, and Linz told herself for the thousandth time to be patient. He had waited for her. Now she had to do the same.

The limo pulled up to her condo, and she saw a package sitting against the door. She jumped from the car and ran to it. As she closed the distance, she recognized Bryan’s handwriting.

She ripped open the box and took out the exquisite twelve-by-twelve-inch painting of Hermese standing in her garden in the moonlight, with the Star of Isis—Sirius—shining in the sky.

He had included a note:

I’ll be home soon. I hope you remember where you hid the book.

Linz yelled with joy.

Vadim jumped out of the car. “Dr. Jacobs? Are you all right?”

“Change of plans, Vadim,” she said. “I’ll be staying here.” She wasn’t going anywhere until she had seen Bryan.

*