“What do you mean?” Jake said, sounding confused.
“The signature looks like it’s off by a tiny brushstroke in all three of them. It’s hardly discernible, but I’m certain of it.”
Jake let out a low whistle. “Now what do we do?”
“There’s something fishy going on, and I’m determined to get to the bottom of it.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” Jake said.
DeeDee smiled. “Because you know I can never resist a mystery? Also, because Cassie and Al bought one of the fake paintings, I feel like they deserve an explanation. Although, judging by Al’s reaction when I told him I’d seen the same Alfred Mitchell as theirs in Provence, I hope he doesn’t take matters into his own hands. You know what he’s like. I’d say he’d be the poster boy for a saying such as ‘You can take the boy out of the Mafia, but you can’t take the Mafia out of the boy.’”
“Uh-huh.” Jake laughed. “Al’s idea of justice is an eye for an eye, rather than waiting for the criminal justice system to slowly move its wheels.”
DeeDee agreed. “I already contacted a gallery owner in Laguna Beach and sent him the photos of Cassie’s painting as well as the one we saw in Provence. I haven’t heard back from him yet, so I’ll call him in the morning and ask if he’ll take a look at Colin’s paintings as well. How does that sound?”
“Sensible, for once,” Jake said. “Just promise me you won’t do anything else until you run it past me. As my future wife, I now have a vested interest in your safety.”
“I promise,” DeeDee said, a fresh wave of tiredness washing over her. “Night night.”
“You too. Have a good sleep and let me know what you find out.”
As soon as DeeDee’s head hit the pillow, all thoughts of paintings disappeared, her mind went blank, and she instantly fell into a deep sleep. Balto, followed her upstairs as was his custom. He climbed onto the end of her bed and immediately went to sleep.
*****
The following morning DeeDee awoke refreshed, having slept well. Her head was clear, and the last of her jet lag was gone. After she had some coffee and a little breakfast, her morning walk with Balto was much more enjoyable than it had been the day before. She teased him with a stick, pretending to toss it in one direction before turning around and throwing it the other way.
Balto barked with enthusiasm, his boundless energy egging her on for more throws. When they returned to the house Balto settled outside on the grass in a sunny spot, contentedly chewing on his toy rabbit.
“I think you’re tired out, Balto,” DeeDee said with a grin. “If so, that’s a first.”
When she got inside, she picked up the phone and took it with her to the porch so she could call Kevin Morgan. She settled into the rattan seat, which creaked every time she moved. Thinking of the luxurious pillows on the outdoor seating Colin James had at his party the previous evening, she made a mental note to ask Susie where they were from, before pressing in Kevin’s cell phone number.
The phone rang a few times and DeeDee thought briefly that maybe it was too early to be calling Kevin. A moment later she heard his voice.
“Hi, Kevin, this is DeeDee Wilson. I was wondering if you’d had a chance to compare the photos I sent you yesterday of my friend’s painting and the one I saw in Provence?”
“Hi, DeeDee, yes I did,” he said. “I’m afraid I think it’s a fake.”
DeeDee had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Which one?” she asked carefully. “Do you mean my friend’s painting is a fake, or the one in the gallery?”
“I’m pretty sure your friend’s is the fake,” Kevin confirmed. “The brushstrokes are a little off, and the signature isn’t quite right. I was able to verify the one from the gallery in Provence with an exhibition catalog in my files. I believe it’s genuine.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” DeeDee said. “Especially since I just came across two more paintings last night that I also think may be fakes.” She filled Kevin in about the paintings owned by Colin James. “If I send you the photos, would you be able to have a look at those as well, please?”
Kevin confirmed that he would, and agreed to call DeeDee back after she’d sent the photos to him. She didn’t have long to wait.
“I couldn’t swear to it,” Kevin said when he called her back half an hour later, “and I wouldn’t ever put something like this in writing without personally seeing the paintings, but it’s not good news. The two paintings you saw last night look like they’re also fakes.”
“I see.” DeeDee looked out at Puget Sound, trying to make sense of what she’d just been told.
Kevin cleared his throat. “Do you mind me asking, DeeDee, what you intend to do with the information I’ve given you?”
“To be honest, I have no idea,” DeeDee admitted. Even though her suspicions had been all but confirmed, she realized she wasn’t sure what she should do now. She didn’t have a plan. “All I have to go on are photos, and I’m not the owner of any of the paintings. Have you come across anything like this before, Kevin? I’m open to any advice you might give me.”
“No, I haven’t,” Kevin said, “but I certainly will give it some thought. Unfortunately, I need to go because a customer just came in the gallery, but would you let me know when you find out something?”
“Of course,” DeeDee said, getting up from her seat on the porch. “Thanks, Kevin, I really appreciate your help.” She ended the call.
Balto followed her as she walked back inside and put the phone in its stand on the hallway table. She reached down to stroke his fur. “You always know when something’s bothering me, don’t you, Balto? I think you’re a mind reader. How about if we see if Roz is free for lunch? We can go to Seattle on the ferry and meet her somewhere.”
Balto wagged his tail and DeeDee smiled. “I’m not sure which is making you happier, the mention of food, or going on the ferry.” Balto’s tail wagged faster. DeeDee was convinced the food and ferry F words were at the top of his vocabulary.
“It’s settled then,” she said, lifting the phone again. “I’ll call Roz and see if she’s free.”
She hadn’t seen her sister in a while and was looking forward to telling her about Provence, as well as Jake’s surprise proposal.
Another thought occurred to her. “After lunch, we can stop by the Germain Plein Air Art Gallery and see if we can learn anything. How’s that for a plan, Balto?”
She turned around and looked through the open doorway, before shaking her head in amazement. Balto was already heading down the steps of the porch toward the car.
CHAPTER 11
When DeeDee and Balto arrived at the Casco Antiguo Mexican restaurant in Pioneer Square, Roz was already seated at a table in the outdoor terrace area, looking like she was thoroughly enjoying a plate of chips, salsa and guacamole. She greeted DeeDee with a messy grin before wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Sorry, Sis, I started without you. These days I need to eat every two hours without fail, with regular snacks in between.”
DeeDee bent down to kiss her sister on the cheek. “Nothing new about that. Don’t pretend your appetite has increased because you’re pregnant, because I know better.”
Roz smirked, and reached for another handful of chips.
DeeDee sat opposite Roz and looked across the table at her. She was free of makeup and there was a smattering of freckles visible across her nose, her wavy auburn curls bouncy and full. “You’re radiant, Roz. I’m telling you, if the pregnancy glow could be packaged and bottled, it would sell for millions of dollars, and you could be the poster girl.”
“For geriatric moms?” Roz asked, grinning. “Luckily I’m not easily offended by the medical name for an older pregnancy. Anyway, I’m doing great. I can’t say the same for Clark.”
The waitress brought a bowl of water for Balto, and DeeDee ordered an apple juice. “What’s wrong with Clark?”
“My darling husband has sympathetic pregnancy symptoms” Roz said laughing. “H
e’s complaining of minor weight gain, morning nausea, and disturbed sleep patterns. But he can’t compete with me on the weight gain, and I’ve had no problems at all with the other two.” She patted her growing belly for effect.
DeeDee smiled. “You’re showing already, but that’s twins for you. Have you thought about names for them yet?”
Roz tilted her head to the side. “Clark and I are arguing over that already. For a boy, I like Tom, in memory of our dad.”
“Good choice,” DeeDee murmured, glancing at the menu. “I approve.”
“Clark likes Vinny, for his uncle who died a while back. Or Valentina, after his mom, for a girl.”
DeeDee liked both of those names, but she sensed diplomacy was required. “They’re nice, too. Why don’t you each name one child? That way, you’ll both be happy. What’s your choice for a girl?”
Roz didn’t miss a beat. “Meryl. As in Streep.”
DeeDee looked up in surprise. “I’m not so keen on that for a little baby. It seems kind of…old.” She watched Roz’s face crumple. “I guess she’d grow into it though,” she said, hastily backtracking.
She was glad to see the waitress arrive at the table to take their order.
“I’ll take the plantain empanada and the house salad, please,” DeeDee said, handing her menu back to the waitress.
“Vegetarian enchiladas for me,” Roz said, “and the carne asada tacos.” She looked over at DeeDee with a sheepish grin.
When the waitress had left, Roz leaned her elbows on the table and stared at DeeDee. “Enough about me. You’re looking pretty good yourself,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “There’s something kind of glowy about you too. Your week away with Jake obviously agreed with you. Anything you care to share?”
DeeDee felt her cheeks flush. “Is it that obvious?”
Roz’s mouth fell open, and her face lit up. “Oh. My…Gaaaaaah!!! Hurry up and tell me! Is it what I think it is?” She glanced down at Balto. “Hey fella, what’s going on? Is someone going to fill me in here?”
Balto looked up for a few seconds before ignoring Roz and lazing back on the terrace, his legs stretched out in front of him. “Thanks for nothing,” Roz muttered, turning back to DeeDee.
“Jake proposed,” DeeDee said, her grin reaching from ear to ear. “And I said yes.”
Roz reached both arms across the table to squeeze DeeDee’s hands. Her eyes welled up. “I’m so happy for you,” she whispered, her voice cracking. Pulling a hand away, she wiped her cheek. “And I’m so hormonal I cry at least ten times a day. Every time something pulls at my heartstrings, that’s it, I’m off. It could be a song on the radio or a cute little kid walking down the street. But my big sister getting married is guaranteed to make me bawl.”
DeeDee handed her a Kleenex and watched while Roz gulped back happy tears. “Tell me all about it,” Roz said, sputtering with emotion. She had a faraway look in her eyes. “Don’t leave anything out. Was it in a romantic restaurant by the Mediterranean, with the sun setting in the distance?”
“And violins and harp music?” DeeDee said, looking amused. “Not quite. Jake did get down on one knee, but it was on my driveway after our fifteen-hour plane trip to get home. Possibly longer, I lost track of time. There wasn’t a red rose in sight.”
Roz made a face. “I’ll never understand you two. I’m still coming to terms with you buying him an electric drill for Christmas.” She shook her head. “Then, after what was probably the most romantic holiday ever, he goes and proposes on a wet driveway. When’s the big day?”
“We haven’t decided. We wanted to run it past the children first, and you of course. What do you think?”
Roz threw her hands up in the air. “I think you’d be crazy not to. You know I love Jake. He’s so much nicer than that first husband of yours.” She scratched her head. “What was his name again?”
DeeDee raised an eyebrow at her sister. “Cute, Roz. By the way, don’t ever say that in front of Mitch or Tink.” Her face softened. “Lyle wasn’t so bad, but thanks for giving Jake the thumbs up. It means a lot to me.”
The waitress brought their food, and Roz started eating, obviously enjoying this aspect of her pregnancy.
DeeDee’s empanada was delicious and sweet. The salad was made up of kale lacinata, cucumber, and carrots topped with toasted pine nuts, and a flavorful manchego cheese. She jotted the combination down in her trusty notebook which was never far from her side.
“You know you don’t need my approval to get married,” Roz said between bites. “Or your children’s. You’re a big girl, DeeDee. It’s time to start thinking for yourself, and trusting your own decisions. Permission is not required.”
DeeDee was quiet for a few moments. “You’re right, of course. I have no doubts about getting married to Jake, but we’re not in any big hurry. If it takes a while for our children to come around to the idea, we can wait for a bit rather than upset anyone.”
“On the other hand, why hang around?” Roz crunched her way through a mouthful of one of her tacos. “You’re not getting any younger. I think Cassie and Al had the right idea, not wasting any time. There’s a lot to be said for seizing the moment. Why put off till tomorrow what you could be enjoying today?”
“I didn’t know philosophy was your strong point,” DeeDee said with a laugh. “Thanks for the wise words. I’ll bear them in mind. I’ve arranged to meet Mitch and Tink this weekend, and Jake’s going to run it past his daughter, Kimberley.”
“Good, keep me posted.” Roz stole a glance at her watch. “Do we have time for dessert?”
DeeDee gazed in amazement at Roz’s two empty plates. “I’m full, but you go ahead. I’m going to visit an art gallery after this,” she said casually, “would you like to come with me?”
Roz stared at her before letting out a groan.
DeeDee was alarmed. “Do you have stomach ache? If so, I’m not surprised.”
“No, it’s because you’re acting weird,” Roz said. “Every time you use that airy tone and bite the inside of your cheek like you just did, it means there’s something up. What’s going on?”
DeeDee sighed. She told Roz about the gallery she’d been to in Provence, and what Kevin Morgan said about the photos she’d sent him of the paintings owned by Cassie and Colin James.
When she was finished, Roz frowned. “I think you should be careful going to this gallery place. If the owner finds out you’re snooping around, he might become nasty. I’d come with you, except I have a client meeting to go to that I can’t cancel. Tax season may be over, but it’s a new client who is being audited by the IRS. My client needs some hand-holding, since there’s a lot of money at stake.”
DeeDee smiled and stroked Balto, who had stood up. “It’s fine, Balto and I can go. It’s not far from here, and I’m sure we’ll be safe in broad daylight.”
“Does Jake know you’re going there? Please, tell me he knows about this.” Roz pushed her palms together into an upright praying position.
DeeDee paused before replying. “No, but I only thought of it a little while ago. If it makes you feel better, I’ll call him and let him know.”
“Fine,” Roz said, signaling to the waitress. “Why don’t you go and do that, while I have a chocolate fudge brownie with whipped cream. Coffee?”
DeeDee stood up and nodded. “Cappuccino.” She stepped away from the table to call Jake. The call went straight to voicemail, and she left him a brief message outlining her plans.
From what she’d been able to find out about Philippe Germain, the gallery owner, DeeDee had no reason to think she was in any danger. His biography on the gallery website described him as an upstanding American citizen of French descent, married with a couple of children, and living in the affluent Seattle suburb of Bellevue with his French wife.
Nothing in his profile indicated that he was involved with a forgery ring, but DeeDee knew better than to take anything at face value. She decided she’d meet him, perhaps posing as a customer interested
in buying a painting, and see what happened from there.
CHAPTER 12
DeeDee strolled across Pioneer Square to the Germain Plein Air Art Gallery, where she stopped outside to admire some small paintings by Hanson Puthoff and Edgar Payne which were on display in the window. Balto was on a leash and stood next to her. Behind the front room she could see into the main gallery area, which was spacious and flooded with natural light.
The door leading into the gallery was made of thick, grainy wood with a full-height glass panel in the center, and required a hard push from DeeDee to open it. When she and Balto entered the gallery, the tinkle of a bell sounded above her head. She noticed that the floor of the gallery was covered with fake brick cobblestones. She smiled to herself at the nod to Provence that the cobblestone flooring provided, and noted that the fabric panel at the back of the gallery was just like the one in Gallerie Germain in Saint-Victor-la-Coste.
There was no sign of anyone inside, and DeeDee was happy to have some time to view the paintings without being disturbed. Hung against a stark white backdrop, with their only embellishment being their chunky gold frames, the thought struck her that the California plein air paintings in front of her looked sharper than the ones she’d seen in Cassie and Colin’s homes. The colors were more vibrant, the lines cleaner. They looked more like the ones she’d seen in Provence.
After a while, DeeDee paused and cocked an ear toward the back of the gallery. That’s strange, she thought, it sounds like someone is back there, but no one has come out to greet me. She held her breath and glanced down at Balto, who was standing rigidly at attention, his ears pricked up, and his eyes glued to the back of the gallery.
After waiting several moments longer, DeeDee called out. “Hello, is anyone there?”
The sound of heavy footsteps indicated someone was approaching, and a large, hairy hand appeared at the side of the fabric panel, tugging it open. DeeDee gripped Balto’s leash, pulling him close to her. A sense of dread came over her, and she had a queasy feeling in her stomach that something bad was about to happen. She was ready to run, scream, and turn Balto onto whoever the hairy hand belonged to, if there was any sign of danger.
Murder at the Gallery: A Northwest Cozy Mystery (Northwest Cozy Mystery Series Book 6) Page 8