by Rayna Morgan
“Happily for Paul, it’s not my full-time occupation. At least I can do it now by solving the case at hand.”
• • •
“I think the art thefts are part of a bigger insurance fraud,” Lea said. “Let’s put the pieces together. Start with George. Tell me all you know about him including anything Alberta said.”
Maddy spent the next moments recapping what she knew of George Johnson. She finished by repeating her conversation with Alberta about the stolen painting.
“Did she say anything that struck you as unusual?”
“You mean other than having a twelve million dollar painting ripped off?”
“You know what I mean. Anything else that caught your attention.”
“There was something. Let me see…what was it?”
Maddy sucked on a blade of grass.
“She talked about shopping…”
“Think, Mad. Big clues often lie in small details.”
“I remember. Her credit card was declined at Saks. I commiserated with a story of my own. Not about shopping at Saks since it's beyond my budget, but about my card being declined. You know how that goes.” Maddy glanced sideways at her sister. “Well, no, you probably don’t. You’re too organized to let that happen.”
“Unlike you, I balance my accounts every month.”
Maddy tossed her hair. “I do that, occasionally.”
“Go back to what Alberta told you. Was the credit problem resolved?”
“Yes, and she got her dresses. Peace was restored at the Johnson household.”
“What you told me shows George was having money problems. That may be the reason it started. He talked Ian into over insuring the painting so he could cash in. Ian needed an appraisal to back up the amount of the policy.”
“You had me meet Ian’s appraiser because you suspect he’s in on the scheme.”
“Yes, I do.”
“But George couldn’t have cashed in unless the item was stolen or destroyed.”
Lea smiled like a Cheshire cat. “Exactly.”
“George stole his own painting!” Maddy exclaimed. “But wait. He and Alberta were at a dinner party when the theft occurred.”
“He arranged to have the act take place while he was away so no suspicion would fall on him. He enlisted Ian’s help.”
“You’re suggesting George gave Ian access to his house the night of the party. Why would Ian agree to anything illegal?”
“That’s a valid question. Considering the gravity of what he asked the broker to do, I suspect George has some hold over Ian.”
“So Ian snatched the painting?” Maddy asked.
“I doubt he dirtied his hands with the deed itself. Instead, he used someone whose presence creates no undue alarm. Tell me who you’ve seen on the premises during your visits.”
Maddy squinted her eyes.
“The maid, who is also the cook. She’s been with them forever. I can’t imagine her being guilty. I saw a guy cleaning the pool once. And the gardener. He’s been there every time.”
“What does he look like?”
“I can’t say. I only saw him once and his back was turned. He was yelling at a man moving boulders around like pieces of a board game.”
“Then how can you say the gardener is there each time you visit?”
“I see his truck in the driveway. It has bright flowers painted on the side with some sappy slogan.”
“Bringing beauty to your home or office.”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
Lea clapped. “Bingo. Henry Dade is the fourth clog in a scheme of fraud and burglary. Ian over insured George’s painting based on the value provided by the appraiser. Henry stole the picture and George got reimbursed by the insurance company for more than enough to pay off his debts and make him whole financially.”
Maddy knitted her brows. “How does this relate to other thefts, including your neighbor?”
“Remember what Dad tells us. Jealousy and greed are the main motives for criminal behavior. In this case, greed reared its ugly head.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ian may have considered George’s scheme a necessary evil to eliminate whatever hold George has on him. They planned for the painting to show up at some future date. If the value of the art had increased, George would repay the insurance proceeds and keep ownership of a valuable asset. In the meantime, he saved himself from financial ruin.”
“Why didn’t they stick to the plan?”
“That’s where greed came in. They saw their scheme as a way to continue to make money.”
"What makes you suspect Henry is involved?"
“I couldn’t understand why he confronted Ian about his wife’s murder,” Lea explained, recounting the day Henry burst into Ian's office. “But suppose they're together in the scheme I’ve described. Sandra became suspicious of the collaboration and voiced her concerns. Henry’s anger possibly stemmed from thinking Ian eliminated Sandra to rid himself of possible exposure.”
“It sounds like a classic example of a thief’s biggest enemy being another thief,” Maddy said.
“If so, Ian has cause to suspect George as well.” Lea paused, then added. “Unless Henry is right and Ian is the murderer.”
Maddy rubbed her forehead. “You’re making my head spin. We’re going in circles. Besides, it doesn’t matter. Without proof, it’s all supposition. Let’s turn your ideas over to Tom. Maybe he can sort it out.”
“His hands are tied. He can't accuse two high profile members of the community without substantial grounds.”
“Then I see no solution.”
“There’s always a solution. Let's focus on what we can do instead of worrying about what we can’t.”
“Brilliant, Sis. What do you suggest?”
“I'm glad you asked. We can set a trap. If one member of the conspiracy is caught, their house of cards may fall apart.”
“If Tom can’t go against Ian or George, what chance do we have?”
“I agree we have less chance than the police of breaking either of them. Again, the solution lies in focusing on who we can break.”
Maddy snapped her fingers. “I get it. We go after the weakest link in the chain. In this case, Henry or the appraiser.”
“Not necessarily. In this case, the weak link appears to be strong.”
Maddy frowned. “There you go with stupid puzzles.”
A smile played across Lea’s face as she enjoyed her sister’s frustration.
“Give me a hint,” Maddy begged.
“The man at Alberta’s house.”
A light bulb went off.
“The galoot moving rocks, Henry’s assistant. What makes you think the strongman is the weakest link?”
“He’s out of his element. Rather than being a professional thief, he probably got talked into it for the money.”
“He may be afraid his boss will fire him to find someone willing to carry out his dirty work,” Maddy suggested.
“Either way, he’s most likely to turn at any sign of trouble and be receptive to a way to avoid prison.”
“So how do we set our trap, mastermind?”
“From what I saw, stolen goods are taken to Henry's warehouse for packaging before being stored. If we locate the storage place, we’ll find the proof we need.”
Maddy flinched. “I bet you have a suggestion for how we do that. One I won’t like.”
“It’s easy. We’ll provide an easy target for them to steal and follow them.”
“You make things sound so simple. Our past adventures are proof that things seldom turn out as planned.”
“And you accuse me of being a worry wart! Now, call the appraiser. I’ll tell you what to say. I’m eager to put my plan in motion.”
Maddy sighed and hit the speaker button on her phone. When the appraiser answered her call, she followed her sister’s instructions.
“I’m sorry to rush you. An unexpected opportunity to sell my painting has arisen. I hate to g
ive it up but I need the money.”
“Don’t worry, Miss. I understand. You’re not the first customer to part with cherished possessions to pay the bills.” The oiliness of his voice sickened Maddy. “I’ll deliver your valuation in person tomorrow.”
She set the trap.
“I won’t be here. I'm going out of town. Please email it. Thanks.”
She couldn’t get off the line fast enough.
Lea commended her. “Good job, Mad. If I’m correct about how their ring operates, the appraiser is on the phone to Ian or Henry as we speak telling them your painting is ripe for the taking.”
“Because I won’t be home to interfere.”
Lea turned at the door before leaving.
“Get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day.”
“Wait. Have you neglected to tell me something?”
Lea waited for the question she knew was coming.
“How do we locate the stolen paintings? I hope you don’t have crazy ideas about a confrontation at Henry’s warehouse.”
“They won’t go to the warehouse if they find the picture wrapped when they arrive. They’ll take it directly to storage. We’ll use your sailboat piece as a decoy by wrapping it and leaving it by the fireplace where they can easily steal it.”
“While I’m here?”
“Of course not. We’ll wait in the shed until they leave, then follow them to the goodies.”
“After which, we tell Tom the location and wash our hands of the whole business, right?”
“You betcha. It's a piece of cake.”
Maddy put her hand to her ear.“Do I hear the sound of famous last words?”
Chapter Thirty-One
The sun was sinking below the horizon when the sisters walked into Maddy’s backyard and hid in the tool shed. They pushed aside bags of potting soil and sat on small stools with their legs cramped.
Maddy batted at a mosquito. “How long must we stay out here? I'm being eaten alive.”
They heard the sound of a vehicle in the alley.
“Shh, they’re here,” Lea whispered.
The hinge on the wooden gate squeaked.
Lea peeked through the window. When she got a partial glimpse of Henry’s head, she nodded at her sister.
There was the sound of a second car followed by a door slamming.
Maddy poked her. “They came in separate cars.”
“Shoot!” Lea exclaimed.
“Now what, mastermind?”
“We watch to see which car they put the painting in.”
The sisters barely breathed as Henry picked the lock on the back door of the cottage.
“So much for cheap locks and feeling safe,” Maddy whispered.
Moments later, the men came out carrying a large, bubble wrapped object between them.
As they passed through the gate, a truck filled with bottled water entered the narrow alley.
The driver hollered. “Move your cars. I gotta park here to deliver water.”
“Sure, no problem.”
The engine of the water truck revved, blocking the sisters’ view, while Henry and Shorty got in their vehicles.
“This isn’t going well. We should give up, Lea.”
Lea turned on her sister. “Are you crazy! We’ve come too far.”
“What do you suggest?”
“We have no choice,” Lea said, rubbing her temples. “You tail one. I’ll follow the other.”
“I was afraid you’d say that,” Maddy said. “Okay. I’ll follow Henry. You can have the weight lifter.”
“Sorry. It makes more sense for me to follow Henry. He knows me, but he doesn’t know my car. Shorty has seen both me and my car.”
Maddy bit her lower lip. “Can we flip a coin?”
“Stop worrying. As soon as I figure out Henry doesn’t have the painting, I’ll call. Tell me where you are and I’ll come meet you. If Henry has the stolen goods, you come.”
“All right,” Maddy moaned, “but your piece of cake is crumbling.”
• • •
With stickers on the window and the loud exhaust of a worn-out muffler, Shorty’s car wasn’t hard to follow. The driver’s slow speed and avoidance of potholes convinced Maddy she was following the thief carrying the valuable painting.
One block past an intersection of a lower income neighborhood, the car slowed and pulled to the curb. A red Camaro with a flat tire was parked in the driveway.
Maddy resisted the urge to slow down. At the end of the cul-de-sac, she turned around, reversing direction. She found a parking spot within viewing distance of the house.
She watched the barrel-chested man remove the wrapped object and walk to the back of the house.
Maddy thumped her fist on the steering wheel. Bingo! The burglars' hiding place!
She jerked open the glove compartment and grabbed a stack of sale advertisements. Turning over the top sheet, she pulled out a magic marker and scribbled some words across the blank space.
Lost dog. Gold and white Border collie. Answers to Gracie. Call for reward.
She added a cell phone number and hurried across the street.
With her eyes peeled for activity, she knocked on the neighbor's door. While she waited for an answer, Shorty rounded the corner of his house and disappeared inside.
“What do you want?” demanded a querulous voice.
Maddy jumped. She held a flier in front of the old man behind the screen.
“Sorry to bother you. My dog’s gone missing. I’m searching the neighborhood. Have you seen any loose dogs?”
“You dog owners are all alike. Don’t keep your mutts on leash. Let them roam at will. Only last week, I scraped poop from my driveway.”
Maddy stammered. “I’m sure it wasn’t Gracie. She’s well trained. Only poops in my back yard.”
“If she’s as well trained as you say, your dog will find her way home. Quit bothering folks.”
Maddy opened her mouth to object, but he slammed the door.
Good day to you, too!
She heard another door slam and looked in time to see Shorty hurry down his front walk.
“I’m goin’ to get burgers and a six-pack. I’ll pick up a tire on the way.”
Looking over the roof of his car as he unlocked it, he shouted. “Don’t forget what I told you. Stay away from the shed.”
Tires squealed as he drove off.
Maddy stood on the sidewalk debating her options.
The smartest thing for me to do is get in my car and leave. That’s what Tom would tell me.
Lea’s the one who inherited Dad’s compulsion to find the truth. Let her search for it on her own.
Maddy laughed at herself.
Admit it, Maddy! The thing which prevents me from leaving is simple curiosity.
She walked through an adjacent property to a spot where she could see Shorty’s back yard.
The structure he referred to was more like a bunker than a storage shed. What appeared to be a recent addition increased the size of the building to fill the yard. The windows were covered with bars. A padlock hung from a hinged metal plate on a steel door.
Maddy creeped through the shrubs and looked in the direction of the house. The only sound other than her own heavy breathing was a dog barking in the distance.
She inched slowly toward the room. Cupping a hand, she peered through a window. Stacked on palettes against the wall were bubble-wrapped objects of varying size and shape.
Maddy gasped. Double bingo! Wait until I tell Lea.
A woman’s voice shrieked behind her.
“What are you doing!”
Maddy dropped the leafletsand spun around. The woman appeared young, barely out of her teens.
“My dog is lost. I’m distributing posters with her description. There's a reward,” she added.
Both women stared at the ground where the fliers lay scattered. Maddy realized her mistake at once. Only the top flier contained information about a lost animal.
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The girl picked up a sheet and read an announcement about a furniture sale.
“Who are you trying to fool!” Her voice was trembling. “Why are you here?”
Excuses flashed through Maddy’s brain, but she couldn’t drum up a single logical explanation.
The younger woman panicked. She pushed the intruder as hard as she could.
Maddy fell backwards, hitting her head on the concrete floor. Her purse fell to the ground, its contents scattering.
A lock being clamped was the last sound she heard before stars spun in front of her eyes and the room turned black.
• • •
A sound of a ring tone brought Maddy back to consciousness. She groped her cell phone and held it to her ear.
“Yeah?” she said faintly.
“It’s me. Following Henry was a dead end. He’s at a local pub. Did you have any luck?”
“I found the paintings. I’m staring at them as we speak.”
“Great, Maddy!”
“Not so great. Shorty left, but his girlfriend caught me snooping. The little fool pushed me into the storage room and locked me in.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Would I kid about being held hostage in a shed?”
Lea gasped. “Are you okay?”
“Not really. I’ve got a lump on the back of my head giving me a bigger headache than tequila.”
“I’m sorry, Mad. I feel terrible about what happened to you.”
“Save your guilt for later. Just come get me. I’ve had my fill of sheds for one day.”
“Where are you?”
“One block south of the intersection at Fifth and H streets. Look for a house on the right with a yard covered with cactus and rocks. You can’t miss it. It looks like the Mohave Desert.”
She paused to catch her breath and willed herself to stay calm.
“Please hurry. I’m not sure when Shorty will be back, but I don’t want to be here when he comes.”
“I’m coming,” her sister assured her. “One quick stop on the way.”
“This is hardly the time for a burger, Sis.”
“Be there in five.”
The call ended, throwing Maddy in despair as she looked around the dark room. She clutched her arms and shivered as the air turned colder.
What can Lea do if Shorty returns? I better call Tom.