“Mm-hmm.” Charlie kept the distance between them tight as they walked. “What’s over there?”

They passed a table full of jewelry. Lane turned to follow his gaze. A small group of people were crowded at the corner of the tent, but whatever had gathered the group’s attention was blocked from her and Charlie’s view.

Lane weaved her way closer, past the excited whispers, and then stilled when she saw what had triggered the oohs and ahhs. Her eyes traced the wild lines of the sculpture. A tree stump with its bark removed was carved into dozens of thin branches stretching from the base. At the end of each was a bird. Wings tucked at their sides as they perched or spread open as they swooped into flight. The roots were carved into knots crisscrossing each other in a strange but beautiful tangle of intricacy.

“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?” Pride emanated from Meagan’s face as she walked up to them. “People can’t stop talking about it.”

“Where did you get it?” The carving, the detail—it had to be Miguel’s sculpture. Lane reached for the auction information card. The starting bid was twenty-five hundred dollars but bids had driven the price to almost ten thousand dollars. “There’s no name.”

“Some artists don’t want to be known.” A tall woman with short black hair approached and Charlie stiffened. “It’s good to see you again, Deputy.”

Meagan wrinkled her nose. “You two know each other?”

“The deputy has visited my gallery a couple of times.” Annika Benedict lifted a thin eyebrow. “Seems his interest in art is spreading, considering the number of law enforcement officers continually interrupting my business.”

“Why are you here?”

“Annika’s been a long-time donor,” Meagan answered Charlie. “And the proceeds from the auction tonight are supporting the Benedict House.”

“I’m sorry I could only secure a single painting this time.” Annika’s eyes flashed to Charlie. “Don’t worry, Deputy. That artist is anonymous as well.”

Charlie’s jaw clenched. “I’m surprised by how many of your artists wish to remain that way.”

Lane and Meagan exchanged looks.

“If you ladies will excuse me”—Charlie took a step back—“I think I’m going to grab something to drink.”

Meagan looked at her watch. “And I need to get ready for the auction. This piece is going to have people digging deep into their pockets,” she said with a smile before she walked away in the same direction as Charlie.

A waiter held out a tray with two glasses. “Would you ladies care for a drink?”