"And my mother got you a show at a gallery?"

"She put in a good word for me, but my work speaks for itself."

"One of his paintings is in Mom's house," I told Dani. "It's beautiful and dark and very emotional. I can see why she was drawn to the piece. She always loved art. Remember all those trips to the museum?"

She frowned. "Of course I remember. I was beyond bored. She made us go the first Saturday of every month. The only part I enjoyed was when she went to buy snacks and we'd get to paint in the kids' room." Dani gave Kade another suspicious look. "How exactly is my mother supporting you?"

"That's between me and her," Kade replied.

"Well, we can't ask her," Dani retorted. "Is it a secret? Is she your sugar mama?"

"Dani," I said, surprised by her callous comments.

Kade's lips tightened and there was anger in his eyes, but he said nothing, and the silence became very uncomfortable. Fortunately, that silence was broken when the police officers left the house.

"We didn't find anyone inside," one officer said. "But the house was torn apart. Someone was looking for something. Do you know what that might be?"

"I have no idea."

"We checked in with Inspector Greenman," the officer continued. "He'll be over to check things out shortly. In the meantime, he asked if you'd stay out of the house until he arrives."

"All right," I said. "We'll wait out here."

"You can come into my place," Kade said. He turned to the police officer. "I live downstairs. Was that unit broken into?"

"We didn't go in there," the officer replied. "The doors were locked."

"Well, that's a good sign." Kade looked at me. "Do you want to wait inside my place?"

"Sure," I said. "Dani?" I questioned as she took her ringing phone out of her purse.

"It's Steve," she said. "I'll be inside in a minute."

"Okay." I followed Kade into his unit, which was much smaller than my mother's flat. The living room looked like an artist's studio with easels and half-painted canvasses. There were paint supplies and other materials including wires, metal, fabric, wooden crates, a basket of bottle caps and another one of metal washers and screws. A worn couch and armchair filled out the space.

"It's a mess," Kade said with an uncaring shrug.

"It looks like a lot of work in progress," I replied, my gaze moving from piece to piece. Some were paintings, others were sculptures, some a mix of paint and other materials. "You have quite a few ideas."

He smiled. "Always have. Sometimes I don't know when there are too many ideas."

"Better to have too many than not enough."

"That's what I tell myself. Do you want something to drink?"

"All right," I said, following him into the kitchen.

"Beer or water?" he asked, as he opened the fridge.

"I'll take a beer. It seems like that kind of day."