She has spent her life studying what other people hang on their walls. She has never once hung anything on her own.
Sloane Calloway advises collectors who can afford to be certain. She is very good at it—and very careful. Fifteen years of discipline have built her a life so controlled that, at the center of all that precision, almost nothing belongs only to her.
A bare wall. A single photograph, face down in a drawer, that she has not turned over in four years.
Then one painting refuses to make sense.
It is a quiet Dutch interior: a woman at a window, seen from behind. The attribution is settled. The provenance is immaculate.
Until Sloane finds the seam.
Not a forgery, but an absence—a name removed from the record so thoroughly that no one was ever meant to know it had been there.
Someone is still taking care of that.
As the thread pulls Sloane from Boston to London to Amsterdam, doors begin closing in front of her—politely, quietly, and without leaving a fingerprint. Then the people protecting the painting’s history let her know they know where she sleeps.
The only person keeping pace with her is Declan Mercer, the enigmatic Irish collector who hired her: a man whose eye rivals her own, who asks the questions she has spent a career teaching herself not to ask, and who is quietly dismantling every reason she has for remaining unseen.
She took the case to determine whether a painting was what it claimed to be.
She did not expect it to ask the same question of her own life.
Perfect for readers of Kate Morton, B. A. Shapiro, and Dominic Smith’s The Last Painting of Sara de Vos, The Woman at the Window is an atmospheric novel of romantic suspense filled with buried histories, quiet menace, art-world intrigue, and a romance measured in restraint.
A Due Diligence Novel — Book One of Four
