Out of the Picture

by Tracy Gardner

  “Ryan,” Jordan said, “I assume there would be a record of your activity online? And if my tech guys were to check into it, they’d find you were active in this game. What game is it?”

  “Space Bug Colony. It’s a multiplayer game I play with a bunch of guys from all over the country.”

  Jordan finished his question. “They’d find you were active in Space Bug Colony from noon until well after four-thirty yesterday?”

  “Yes, for sure,” Ryan replied, relief painting his features.

  “One more question, Ryan. Are you aware Mrs. Carson’s friend was poisoned and killed earlier this month with an overdose of the medication Attendall?”

  The relief was quickly replaced by shock; watching the exchange, Savanna felt a little sorry for him. He stared wide-eyed at Jordan. “What? No, I had no idea. That’s awful.” He huffed out an impatient sigh, giving up. “Okay, you’re the police. You probably already know, I take Attendall. I’ve been on it since I was fifteen. I lost my prescription bottle a few weeks ago and had to have it replaced.”

  “You lost it? The whole bottle? It never turned up? What date did you lose it on?”

  Ryan shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not on me. Wait, I get text notifications when my prescription is ready.” He pulled out his phone, tapping the screen. “I got the replacement prescription on…hold on, let me find it…okay, I got the replacement on September third. I lost it the day before. I’d just had it filled, so it was almost full when I lost it.”

  “That’s convenient,” Jordan said. “Eleanor Pietila was poisoned on September fifth.”

  Ryan looked at the detective sharply. “I have a real prescription from my doctor. I’d never do anything shady with my medication. I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

  Jordan glanced at Savanna, then back at Ryan. “You’ve never shared your medication with anyone? Could anyone else have had access to it?”

  Ryan sat back, hands out in front of him, fingers out straight. “No. Oh no, no no. I don’t think this is okay. Should I have, like, a lawyer or something right now?”

  “Have you done anything illegal, Ryan?” Jordan stared at Ryan, poker-faced.

  Savanna bit her lip. It was all she could do to sit still and remain quiet. Her knee shook with small little movements, jittery, and Aidan moved his hand from his own knee, placing it lightly on hers; she felt instantly calmer as he gave her a barely perceptible nod. She stilled her knee under the light touch of his palm, and he took his hand away, looking back at Ryan and Jordan.

  Savanna saw what Jordan was doing, but she felt awful for this young man.

  “No!” Ryan answered Jordan’s question without hesitation. “I’ve done nothing wrong. I never found the missing pill bottle, and I always keep it in the same spot in my luggage. And,” he added emphatically, looking at Savanna and then back at Jordan, “I did not use it to poison anyone. Ever. I would never do that. I wouldn’t do whatever you think I could’ve done yesterday, either. I was in my hotel room online all day. I’m not a bad person. This is just a job, man. I just pick up and deliver paintings!”

  Jordan stood up. “We’re done here. You can go, Ryan, but don’t go far. I may have a few more questions.”

  Ryan looked like he might cry; his whole face was flushed and his breathing was rough from his impassioned outburst. He dug his keys out of his pocket, and left without another word.

  Savanna stared at Detective Jordan. “Wow.”

  Jordan glanced at her.

  “You just… You don’t actually suspect him, do you?”

  He shook his head. “Of course not. Has he seen things he probably shouldn’t have? I’m sure of it. Was he involved in trying to kill Mrs. Carson? A firm no. But he’s the bait. He’s going to take our conversation to his boss, and I think I’ll have a fascinating discussion with Felix Thiebold later tonight, when we pick him up. I’ve already got two officers waiting to bring him in as soon as he shows up at his hotel.”

  Aidan volunteered to drop Jordan off back at the hospital, at his car, along with the locked box of provenances, and Savanna could have kissed him. She could see how shrewd Jordan was, but right now she felt like she needed a shower, and some distance from the detective.

  Jordan leaned down and spoke to Savanna through her car window before getting in Aidan’s car. “Thanks for your help, Savanna. Your eye for detail broke this whole thing open.”

  “Detective,” she said, “would you let me know what the outcome is, please? I need to know Caroline is safe—that we’re all safe, actually.”

  “I’ll keep you updated,” he said. “You did great.”

  Savanna pulled up at Fancy Tails, put a hand on the door and then thought better of it, and crossed the street to the coffee house. She ordered two green teas and took them back across the street.

  Pushing through the door to Fancy Tails, Savanna immediately went to her spot in the corner, flouncing into the big aqua chair and basking in the loving attention lavished on her by Fonzie. Princess and Duke came over and sniffed at her ankles, then curled back up in the sunspot by the front door.

  “You look like you were hit by a truck.” Sydney joined her, taking a seat at the red-and-chrome table.

  Savanna passed her one of the green teas, sipping on the other. “I was. It was a truck named Nick Jordan.”

  Sydney tilted her head at Savanna. “Tell me.”

  Savanna was halfway through the recap to Sydney when the bell over the door jangled.

  Aidan stood in the doorway. “Are you all right?”

  Savanna let out a huge sigh. Why did she always feel better with him around? “I’m okay.”

  He joined them in the corner, taking a chair opposite Sydney at the table. “Okay. I just had to check. Did she fill you in on the interrogation we just came from?” he asked Sydney.

  “She did…most of it. I mean, I see what he was doing. But that poor guy.”

  “Definitely,” Aidan agreed. “He was shaken up. I’m sure he’s going to be in contact with Thiebold. He’s got to be figuring Thiebold took his prescription.”

  “What about the digitalis?” Sydney wondered.

  “If Felix was able to steal Ryan’s Attendall out from under him,” Savanna said, “and was sneaky enough to change around the pills in Caroline’s pill box, I’m thinking he probably has whatever resources he needs. She probably isn’t even the only person he’s bought and sold forgeries to.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Aidan said.

  “Well, at least we know they’re bringing Thiebold in tonight. Jordan said he’d keep us updated. I’ll feel a lot better once I know Caroline is safe,” Savanna said.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jack Carson was waiting for Savanna Monday morning when she got to school. As she passed the library, he spotted her and followed her to her classroom. “I owe you an explanation,” Jack said, perching on the community table closest to Savanna’s desk.

  “For what?” Savanna put her purse away in the bottom right drawer and hung her sweater up. The last day of September, and it was already brisk and chilly this morning. It would be seventy-two degrees by this afternoon, but was definitely sweater weather right now.

  “For my strange behavior last week. I know you wondered what was wrong. And I’m sorry I let my problems affect your schedule. You shouldn’t have had to worry about why I was late, or cover for me.”

  Savanna sat opposite him. “Listen, don’t worry about it. I never mind helping out a friend. I did wonder, though”—she paused—“why you seemed so frazzled last week.”

  “I can tell you now. I finally got some good news this morning. I developed a business plan with a friend of mine. We wanted to purchase the Carson Ballroom that’s coming up for lease renewal.”

  “Jack! That’s quite an undertaking! Purchase, not lease?”

  Jack nodde
d. “We plan to renovate it. I already love the banquet area, and Carson needs that space for exactly what it’s used for. But there’s a lot of time it stands empty, too. With just a few changes to the space, it could double as a small concert venue. We could attract local and regional music acts, which would bring in more revenue for the town and give the kids something to do as well. And the adjacent space, the old movie theatre, well, that’s a no-brainer. Carson needs a theatre. Can’t you imagine strolling through town on a Friday night, maybe you’ve already picked up your gourmet treats for your dog and a hot cup of coffee, maybe even had a nice Italian meal at Giuseppe’s, but you’re not ready to go home yet? Wouldn’t it be great to have movies in town? With two screens, bottomless popcorn, and reclining, heated seats?”

  Savanna sat back in her chair, dreaming of what Jack described. “It sounds wonderful. I would go every week! So…you’re doing it?”

  “Yes!” Jack clapped his hands together, animated and happy. “We met with the potential investor Saturday morning. I pushed the meeting back, from Friday. I couldn’t leave town not knowing if Grandmother would be all right, but it went well. He just emailed to tell me he’s in. My partner and I will be able to purchase the space, the whole ballroom and theatre. It’s ours, as of December first!”

  “I love it! Congratulations, Jack. I think it sounds like a fantastic addition to Carson.”

  Savanna had a feeling he’d be smiling the rest of the day. “Oh.” He stopped in her doorway, looking back. “And I was thinking, if you might be interested, I’d love to commission you to do some artwork in the theatre portion, once it’s renovated and ready. Just something to keep in mind,” he said, turning and heading down the hallway with a new spring in his step.

  Savanna moved about her classroom, setting out the items she’d need for her first set of students, lost in thought. It made her feel good to see Jack so passionate about his endeavor. The idea of beautifying the new theatre was exciting. Savanna was almost finished with Caroline’s mural. She needed one more hour or so to add a few finishing touches, but she’d begun feeling that tug, the little pang of sadness that it was almost done. Painting transported her in a way nothing else really did.

  So, apparently, she would have more projects ahead. She couldn’t wait.

  That strange, seemingly incriminating text she’d seen on Jack’s phone popped into her head. Now it all made sense. Sometimes even she connected the dots in the wrong order. She was so relieved that, in all of this, Jack really was the nice guy she thought he was.

  Savanna was up on the scaffolding for the last time that afternoon when she got the call about Felix. She scrambled down, grabbing her phone from her supply bag just before her voicemail picked up. “Hello?” she said breathlessly.

  Lauren poked her head around the corner into Caroline’s parlor, checking on her. “Are you okay?”

  Savanna nodded, giving Lauren a thumbs up. Caroline was being released tonight, and Lauren had let Savanna come in to finish her mural while she zipped around the house, cleaning, changing bedding, setting fresh flowers out, and sprucing up the place for her grandmother.

  “Hello, Skylar?” Savanna said again, this time hearing her sister on the other end of the line.

  “They just brought Thiebold in,” Skylar said, talking fast. “Jordan called to let me know. They’re waiting for his lawyer to arrive, and then they’ll question him, but Jordan said they’ve already read him his rights. He’s been arrested on four counts of fraud, for now. I can explain more when I see you. I need to observe the interrogation, as Caroline’s attorney. I know you’re dying of curiosity about what Felix has to say for himself. I can arrange for you to observe with me through the two-way mirror. You were instrumental in cracking this case, so you should be there to see it tied up.”

  “Yes!” Savanna didn’t even need to think about it. “Yes. Can you pick me up? I walked here.”

  “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  Savanna stood back and looked up at the mural. It was finished. It had probably been finished before the last half hour she’d just spent, but it was so hard to stop. She packed up her supplies, leaving the bag at the foot of the scaffolding to collect later. She’d bring Harlan back tomorrow morning to disassemble it and take it away.

  She found Lauren in the kitchen, scrubbing the sink. “Skylar just called. They arrested Felix Thiebold and brought him in to the police station. She’s picking me up, but I’ll be back soon.”

  Lauren turned off the faucet and leaned against the counter. “Oh my. Thank you, Savanna. Thank you for everything you’ve done. I don’t know if Grandmother would still be here, if not for you.”

  Savanna gave Lauren a quick hug. “You’re so welcome. I’m glad we were all able to take care of her. She’s worth it.”

  When Savanna let go, she saw tears in the woman’s eyes. “Sorry.” She sniffled, swiping under one eye. “I’m just a little emotional today. Grams will be home by the time you get back. She’s so happy to be coming home. You are coming back, aren’t you?”

  “Absolutely,” Savanna said. “I’ll be back soon, and Syd’s bringing Princess and Duke home around seven. She got them all fancied up for your grandmother’s party, but she’ll gladly do it again in a week or two if you decide to postpone.”

  Lauren let out a long sigh. “I honestly don’t know if she’ll allow that. I was going to ask Dr. Gallager to put his two cents in. She might listen to him.”

  “She might. Or she might not.” She laughed.

  Lauren smiled. “You know her well. She does what she wants.”

  At the Carson Village Police Station, Savanna and Skylar stood with Detective Jordan in a darkened room on the other side of the wall from the holding cell where Felix Thiebold sat.

  “He can’t see or hear you,” Jordan told them. “I’ll start with a few questions to put him at ease, make him think this is all about one painting. But we’ve already fingerprinted him, and the lab has pulled three sets of prints off Caroline Carson’s medication box. I’m hoping one of them is his. We’ve got Ryan Nelson in our back pocket to use as leverage if all else fails.”

  “What do you mean? I thought you didn’t suspect Ryan was involved,” Savanna said.

  “I don’t,” Jordan said, “but I do believe Ryan probably saw things he shouldn’t have over the years, things Felix likely glossed over or swept under the rug. Thiebold will be very, very worried when he sees Detective Taylor walk Ryan past the room where we are. We’re bringing Ryan in for a few more questions. Don’t worry, he’ll be free to go when we’re finished with him tonight. Thiebold will automatically recall all the questionable situations Ryan observed. He’ll assume it’s over.”

  “That all makes sense,” Savanna said.

  “Yes.” Jordan said. “Oh, there’s Thiebold’s lawyer. Here goes.”

  Savanna and Skylar watched through the two-way mirror as Jordan went out into the hallway and into the holding room with Thiebold and his attorney. The lawyer was a tall, dark-suited, solid man in his mid-thirties; he sat straight-backed in his chair, arms folded over his chest. His dark-brown hair and mustache were impeccably groomed. He leaned over to Felix and said something inaudible, then straightened up again, adjusting his glasses.

  “So,” Jordan began, “we need to talk about the Sergei Minkov painting belonging to Caroline Carson.”

  Thiebold sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. “What about the Minkov?”

  “We’ve had our authenticator assess the piece, and it’s been determined a forgery.”

  Felix scoffed. “You may want to get a second opinion. I personally handled that piece and had my own authenticator evaluate it. It is, indeed, a genuine Minkov.”

  “It’s a forgery, based on more than one marker. In fact, there are three separate issues with the piece alone that identify it as a fake, and that’s not even mentioning the provenance
.”

  “The provenance is fine. Have you even viewed the original, or are you basing this on what’s online? Because the internet is notoriously unreliable when it comes to up-to-date provenance information.”

  “Oh, we’ve viewed the originals. We’ve actually done diagnostics on more than one of the pieces you brokered deals on for the Carsons, and we’ve done extensive research on each hard-copy provenance,” Jordan said calmly.

  “Then you would know,” Felix said, equally as calmly, “that several methods of authentication are used now, and often one must use more than one medium or protocol to certify a piece.”

  Felix’s attorney spoke up. “My client obviously has no knowledge of any issue you’ve found with that painting or any other. We’ll need to see the documentation you’re speaking of.”

  Felix added, “I only deal in genuine works, with reputable buyers and sellers. You’ll find that’s true if you check my references.”

  “Your references…like…” Jordan flipped his small leather-bound notebook open, “Ivan Kiernanski?”

  “Exactly. His signature on the Minkov provenance speaks for itself. It’s even notarized.”

  “Really?” Jordan asked, glancing down at his notebook. “I’ll have to check that out,” he said, pulling a pen out and jotting something down. “We noticed you used this Ivan Kiernanski for all the pieces you’ve acquired for Mrs. Carson.”

  “I have. When one identifies a well-qualified art authenticator, one has reason to continue to use those services,” he said haughtily.

  “If that’s all,” the attorney said, “we need to know what the bond will be. These charges are ridiculous; I doubt they’ll hold up. Mr. Thiebold will not be a guest of Carson Village tonight.” The attorney said “Carson Village” as if the words tasted cheap and disgusting on his tongue.

  “Sure.” Jordan said, starting to stand, and then paused. He placed a hand on the table and leaned forward. “But you know, I almost forgot to ask you, Mr. Thiebold. How much did you pay your assistant to help you with eliminating Caroline Carson? We know you bonused him occasionally. Was this one of those circumstances that warranted a bonus?”