She heard him take a breath in. “You did?”
“I’d been talking to Mom about opening it up and making that back room into an owner’s suite, for when guests start coming. A place for me to retreat so I’m out of their hair and they’re out of mine.”
“Oh?” he said. “You’ve been talking to your mother about this?”
Tess furrowed her brow. “Yeah,” she said. “Didn’t she tell you?”
“She didn’t,” Indigo said, slowly. “I wonder why. Your grandma wanted it to stay closed off.”
“I know. Is that why you didn’t open it up?” Tess asked. “After she died, I mean?”
Indigo let out a long sigh. “I guess so, honey,” he said. “It wasn’t an issue when she was alive. Those were her wishes, and I never even thought about going against them. Now you know, it was Dad’s inner sanctum. His studio. But after she passed, I know I could’ve opened it back up, but I just . . .” His words seemed to evaporate. “I guess it was easier to keep that door—that chapter—closed. Sleeping dogs, and all of that.”
Guilt seemed to seep out of the floorboards and wrap itself tightly around Tess. Had she done the wrong thing?
“I’m sorry, Dad,” Tess said. “I—”
“Oh, sweetie, don’t be sorry,” Indigo said. “It’s your house now. You make the rules. You didn’t even know the man.”
“The renovation wasn’t the only reason I needed to open it up,” Tess said, her words coming out in one long stream. “That could’ve waited awhile, but things became more urgent because I heard sounds coming from in there. Scratching. Behind the door. At night. I thought an animal might have gotten in.”
“Oh no,” Indigo said, taking an audible breath in. “Was there much damage?”
“No, Dad,” Tess said. “That’s what was so odd about it. I definitely heard all of these noises, but when we got the door open, there was nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“No evidence to suggest any animal had been in there.”
Her father was silent for a moment.
“Tess,” he said, his voice soft and low. “What are you calling to tell me?”
This caught Tess off guard. What an odd thing to say, she thought. It was as though . . . Did he know what was in the studio? Had he known all along?
“Dad,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “Did you know that room pretty well?”
“Of course,” he said. “I was rarely allowed in there when I was a boy—that was the artist’s private lair—but I knew that was where he painted. He spent most of the day, and night, in that studio when he was working on a new painting. I didn’t agree with your grandmother, you know. About closing it up. What she said about the heat—we all knew that was silly. I personally think it was just too painful for her to see it, after he died. Too many memories. That studio was his heart and soul, where he created his masterpieces.”
“I found five of them.”
It was as though the air had been sucked from the room.
“What?” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“Five paintings,” Tess said. “They were in the little bathroom off the main room, stacked together, facing the wall.”
Tess heard her father gasp.
“Honey,” Indigo called to his wife, his voice harsh, “Tess found five of Dad’s paintings.”
“Whaaaaat?” Tess heard her mother say.
“The room was in complete disarray,” Tess went on. “Wine bottles everywhere. Papers. Glasses. Nothing had been cleaned up. It was as though Grandma had just—”
“Honey,” he said, breaking into her words. “I’m going to stop you there. Did anyone else see them? The paintings, I mean. I imagine you had workmen there to get the door open.”
“Yes, I had workmen, and no, nobody has seen the paintings. Nobody knows about them except Eli. I called him last night.”
“Good,” Indigo said. “This should go without saying but—”
“I know,” Tess said. “I’m not about to tell anyone else about this.”
“You know the wall safe in the drawing room?” Indigo said. He was referring to a rather large wall safe hidden behind a bookshelf that swung open. It was really more of a small room than a safe, built by Indigo years ago to hide valuables during the off season. Like paintings.