Luna was already searching for the number in the search engine on her phone. “Here it is. It’s 617-555-4500.”
Gaines punched the number, then realized it was Saturday. They were closed. “This might have to wait until Monday.”
Luna started to pace the floor. “I guess we have no other choice, do we?”
“Doesn’t appear so.” Gaines looked at the signatures again. “Looks legit, but we won’t know until we find the lawyer.”
Luna hated waiting for anything, but she knew there was little to be done at the moment. The only thing that was under her control was enjoying dinner, and that she was sure about.
Cullen, Luna, Gaines, and Chi-Chi climbed into Cullen’s SUV, everyone chatting a mile a minute about what they were going to order for dinner.
“You guys are confusing me.” Gaines chuckled. “Cullen, you had me going for the lamb, but now Chi-Chi tells me the brisket is excellent.”
“Let’s not forget they have specials, too,” Luna chimed in.
“You’re killing me.” Gaines groaned.
Several minutes later, they arrived at the restaurant and were greeted by the owners. “Dinner with the Bodmans! Nice to see all of you.”
Gaines shot Luna a look. “Do you know every restaurateur in the county?”
“You say that as if it were a bad thing.” Luna gave him an elbow.
“Just kidding,” Gaines shot back.
When they were seated, a perky waitress approached them. “Good evening. Can I get y’all something to drink?”
Gaines looked at his watch.
“Going somewhere?” Luna chided him.
“No. Just a habit.”
“Which is what?”
Gaines thought a moment. “Checking my watch.”
“Because?” Luna prodded.
“Because I always seem to have to be somewhere,” Gaines replied.
“Everyone has to be someplace,” Chi-Chi responded in her melodious voice.
Gaines nodded toward the two women. “Ladies?”
Luna ordered a dry rosé, Chi-Chi asked for a stinger, and Cullen settled on an IPA beer. Gaines then answered the waitress. “I’ll have a manhattan with Maker’s Mark, please.”
“Comin’ right up.” The waitress had a very strong Southern accent. The word right sounded like “raaht.”
When she returned with their drinks, she began to recite the half dozen specials of the day.
Gaines faked a shiver. “I’m going to need some help deciding.”
“Depends on what you are in the mood for. The catfish is excellent.”
“I’m thinking more of a meat dish.”
“Then the lamb. Definitely the lamb,” Cullen offered.
“Luna? Got any suggestions?” Gaines asked.
She put her fingers against her temples and closed her eyes. “I’m thinking beef!” Everyone laughed.
“You’re thinking correctly. The short ribs sounded great,” Gaines added.
The waitress was called away before they gave their orders and disappeared into the kitchen.
“This is a cool place.” Gaines looked around, then frowned.
“What is it?” Luna asked.
He pulled out his phone. “Possible AMBER alert.”
“Here?” Luna sounded surprised.
“No. New York State.”
“Why are they notifying you?” Luna asked.
“They alert all the field offices because they don’t know what direction the missing person may be headed. Then they send updates as they get them.”
Luna frowned. She felt that something wasn’t right.
His phone buzzed again. He read the text and paraphrased. “A woman called in that her sister and nephew took off yesterday but did not leave any information. A man went to her house last night asking for her, but the sister did not recognize the man. They’ve only been gone for twenty-four hours, so she’ll file a formal missing child report in the morning. This was a heads-up.”
Luna tried to relax, but she couldn’t. Another buzz on his phone. He furrowed his brow. “What was the name of the witness on the will? Colette Petrova?”
“Colette Petrov,” Luna replied.
“Well, guess who is missing?” Gaines leaned back in his chair.
“Oh my. That is not good,” Chi-Chi said softly.
“What do you mean?” Luna was aghast.
“Looks like Colette is on the run with her son. Her sister said she left yesterday but didn’t say where she was going and she hasn’t heard from her. It’s been over twenty-four hours.”
“But why would she be on the run?” Luna looked perplexed.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Gaines answered.
“Do you think it has anything to do with the will?” Luna asked.
“Beats me, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Luna bit her lower lip. “Do you think it possible that the Millstones are looking for her?”
“If they have any idea about that will, they probably are.”
“Well, that can’t be good,” Cullen observed.
“No. That family has connections everywhere. And the resources,” Gaines stated emphatically.
“I wish we had the name of the lawyer,” Luna mused.
“I’ll see what my resources can find out. Meanwhile, keep that document under lock and key.”
“Uh, it’s in my tote.” Luna patted the bag hanging off her knee.
“Not such a good idea. It really should be locked up.”
“Luna, let’s put it in the safe in my shop,” Chi-Chi offered. “And I have a lot of security.”
Luna had to admit Chi-Chi was right. Chi-Chi had more security than the café. Probably more than any of the other shops. Chi-Chi had tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of jewelry. Cullen had a small safe but not the camera load of Silver & Stone. Cullen didn’t think it was necessary for his space since most of his work required two people, or a hand truck, to handle the merchandise. Hard to slip an armoire or a buffet table out the door without someone noticing.
“Sounds like a good plan. We’ll go back after dinner,” Gaines declared.
“Really? I think it will be OK until tomorrow, no?” Luna offered.
All eyes went to Luna. “What?”
“Speaking of security systems, isn’t your inner alarm going off or something?” Gaines was half joking.
“Again, Comedy Central.” Luna smirked. “You don’t think I can keep this secure for one night? It’s been in that table for over a month.”
“Do I have to pull out my badge and pull rank on you?” Gaines stifled a grin.
“Oh, and now you’re going to use your law enforcement on me?” Luna bit her lip, trying not to smile.
Gaines shook his head. Cullen jumped in. “See what I have to deal with every single day?”
Luna looked at Chi-Chi and pouted. “They’re picking on me.”
Chi-Chi patted her hand. “Now, now, lovie. We all have your best interests at heart.”
“Well, it’s not like I’m going anywhere with it except home.” Luna slouched in her chair.
“We have to go back so everyone can pick up their cars anyway. It won’t take more than a couple of minutes.” Cullen became insistent. “Right, Chi-Chi?”
“That is correct, Cullen.” Chi-Chi put down her fork and turned to him. “I think you and I must take charge of the situation.”
Luna tried to kick Chi-Chi but hit Gaines’s leg instead. “Ouch! What was that for?”
Luna gave him a blank look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Marshal Gaines.” As she took a sip of her wine, the waitress returned from wherever she had been, to take their orders.
There was a lot of jovial commotion going around the table, people changing their minds when they heard what the other was ordering. It was hard for the waitress to keep up. “All right, y’all. Y’all sound like my kids. I come here to get away from them.” Everyone stopped suddenly and burst out laughing.
“See? Comedy Central.” Luna gestured around the table with both of her arms, imitating the women on Let’s Make a Deal or The Price Is Right.
The waitress stood there, tapping her pen. “Y’all need a few minutes? Suggestions?”
“What if we order a few salads to share?” Luna asked the others. All agreed. Pear Salad. Beet Salad. Luna placed her order. Pappardelle. Trout for Cullen. Shrimp and grits for Gaines, and squash vindaloo for Chi-Chi. It was a gastronomic adventure.
The conversation was lively: sports, recent movies, and who was binge watching what coming up. Gaines gave them updates on his renovation. The evening passed quickly, just the opposite of the excruciating wait Luna had had during the day.
They ordered a couple of desserts to share. Decaf and tea.
Cullen told the waitress in advance that he should get the bill. No matter what. “Badge or no badge.”
She shrugged. “Whatever you say, chief.”
The busboy cleared the table while everyone let out a few groans and did a couple of stretches. As they were getting up from the table, Gaines turned to Cullen. “That was terrific. Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
“Are you kidding? You’re practically family.” Cullen slapped him on the back, and Luna almost fell over.
They walked to the SUV slowly, each of them moaning about how good the food was and how much they had overeaten. “But I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Although if I keep eating like this, I may not have one,” Gaines joked.
“Next time you’re in town,” Cullen added quickly, knowing how Luna was sweet on Gaines.
“I’ll be here until Monday. If we’re finished early, I’ll swing on by tomorrow,” Gaines said casually.
Luna’s legs were getting rubbery again. And it wasn’t from one glass of wine. Was it her imagination, or did she really feel a strong pull between the two of them? Chi-Chi picked up on Luna’s wobble and linked her arm through Luna’s. That was something girlfriends did. Help each other stand up tall and move forward. It was more than a metaphor. That night, it was literal. Luna put her head on Chi-Chi’s shoulder as they sauntered to the SUV.
Fifteen minutes later, they were pulling into Stillwell’s parking lot. All four got out and headed to the rear entrance of Silver & Stone. Chi-Chi pushed a bunch of buttons that released the outer door. Then another keypad to enter the small office that opened up to the showroom. Chi-Chi walked over to her large safe, pushed a few more buttons, then a fingerprint. She unlatched it and held out her hand to Luna. Luna obediently handed Chi-Chi the envelope. “Happy now? Everyone?” Luna muttered.
It was a resounding “yes” from the others. On their way out, Chi-Chi locked everything in their path. They said their goodnights. And there it was. The awkward moment. Gaines took the lead. He placed his hands on Luna’s shoulders. “Incoming. Right side.” Luna thought she was going to faint. A peck on the cheek. “Mission accomplished. You OK driving home?”
“Cullen is giving me a lift. But thanks!” Luna was good at acting nonchalant, even when she wasn’t feeling it.
Gaines gave her a short salute. He gave Chi-Chi a kiss on the cheek as well and shook Cullen’s hand. “Thanks again, man.”
“A pleasure.”
Chapter Twenty
Boston—American Storage Center
Late Saturday night
Rowena slumped against the wall, covered in sawdust and splinters. Arthur looked like he had been in a brawl with a china cabinet. The storage area was piled high with shattered furniture, strips of paint, and broken hinges. It was a terribly expensive pile of kindling. Arthur wiped his brow on his sleeve. Rowena looked over at him. He, too, sagged in defeat.
“It must be in that Louis XVI,” he said with resignation.
“Arthur, I really don’t think so.” Rowena wasn’t in the mood to argue about it again. “Unless it had a very secret compartment, the will was not in there.”
“So now what do you recommend?” Arthur had never looked so deflated.
“Hey.” Something had just dawned on her. “Wait a minute.” Rowena brushed off her pants and stood up. “Wasn’t your father supposed to meet with Clive the morning of his heart attack?”
“Yes. Why?” Arthur muttered.
“And wasn’t he in the garage when he fell?” Rowena’s voice took on a note of excitement.
“Yes, Rowena. Everyone knows he was in the garage when he fell. What’s your point?” He sounded rather weary.
“My point is, if he was in the garage, then maybe he shoved it somewhere in the pile of junk that was in there.” Rowena pulled out the printed copy from the sale. “Dang.”
“What is it now?” Arthur was exhausted and annoyed.
“There was another tab at the bottom of the file. I didn’t pay any attention to it because all the salvaged items were listed. So I didn’t print out the second page.”
“Again, I ask, what’s your point?”
“My point is that I am going back to the house and track down the guy who bought the contents of the garage.” Rowena had a sudden burst of energy. “Come on!” She held out her hand and hoisted Arthur to his feet. He looked around at the mammoth pile of destroyed antiques. If he had had the energy, he would have cried. Not because of the sentiment. It was because of the money. Indeed, it was almost certainly the most expensive pile of firewood in all of New England, perhaps all of America.
“Now that we’ve ruined all of this, what do you propose we do with it?” Arthur didn’t have the energy to think.
“Let’s not worry about that right now. We rent on a month-to-month basis. This stuff can sit here until we find the guy who bought the contents of the garage.”
“And where do you propose we put said contents if or when we locate them?” Arthur was picking flecks of paint off his pants.
“Seriously, Arthur. I wouldn’t be so concerned about those pants right now,” Rowena complained.
He looked at her blankly. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Arthur, do not fade on me now. I think we may be at the end of this wild-goose chase soon. Let’s go!” She was just a few decibels from shouting.
Rowena locked the unit and broke every traffic violation on the books, hurtling past stop signs, clipping corners, driving over people’s lawns. The “yee-haw” wild ride broke Arthur’s spell. He started to shriek. “Rowena! Watch out! What are you doing? Are you out of your mind? Slow down! Rowena! Stop!” The final turn into the enormous driveway was coming up. Arthur buried his head in his hands as she careened past the stone lions at the gate. She missed them by millimeters. If the car had had one more coat of paint on it, it would have been scraped off by the statues. Arthur was relieved the gates were open, or they would be a tangled mess of wrought iron, sawdust, and metal.
The car came to a screeching halt. Rowena jumped out of the driver’s side while Arthur sat for a moment to regain his composure. He was convinced Rowena was going to kill him. One way or another.
Rowena ran into Arthur’s study and fired up the computer. She pulled up the file. There it was. The second tab. SALVAGE. There was only one name. Nelson Architectural Salvage Company. It was located in Reston, Virginia. She looked at the clock. It was past eleven. She dialed the number and planned to leave a message. A husky voice answered the phone. “Yeah?”
“Uh, hello. Is this Nelson Architectural Salvage Company?” Rowena was sure she had dialed the wrong number.
“This is George Nelson. What can I do ya fer?”
Rowena heard noise in the background. He could have been in a bar. There was honky-tonk music and voices. Men’s voices. “Georgie! Yer up!”
“Hang on . . .” he said to Rowena. “Gimme a minute,” he said to the guy in the background.
He turned his attention back to
Rowena. “Yeah. This is Nelson.”
“Hello, Mr. Nelson. I’m sorry to bother you at such a late hour. I assumed I would get an answering machine.”
“You can lose cust’mers if you ain’t available all the time.” His accent was thick.
“I suppose you’re right. I’ll be brief. My name is Rowena Millstone. I believe you purchased the contents of our garage several weeks ago.”
“You the place up there in Boston?”
“Yes, that’s us. Anyway, I was wondering if you still had any of the items? Unbeknownst to me, my husband wanted to have some of those things refurbished. Family mementos and such. He is in such a state of depression, and I feel terrible that I allowed this to happen.” Rowena was lying through her teeth, hoping she’d get the answer she was looking for.
“Uh-huh. Sorry about your troubles, ma’am, but I’m sorry to tell ya I sold them off in one big heap.”
“Would it be possible for you let me know to whom you sold them?”
“Yeah, I suppose I could, but not tonight.” He turned his head away from the phone and shouted to his friends, “Hold yer horses, be right there.”
“Of course. I completely understand.” Rowena was pouring it on so thick, Arthur thought he’d go into a diabetic coma.
“I can give ya a holler in the morning. That OK with you, ma’am?”
“Is there any possible way you could get it to me tonight? It could be later. I would be happy to compensate you for your time. Say a thousand dollars?” Rowena iced the cake.
“Well, in that case, I can run back to my place and get it for you within the hour. In the meanwhile, I’ll send you a Venmo, or if you’d rather, PayPal?”
Rowena pulled the phone from her ear and gave it a curious look. This guy is a fast operator. “Whichever works for you,” Rowena replied.
“PayPal is good. I’ll call you in a bit. Is the number you called me a good one to reach you at?”
“Yes—617-555-1954,” Rowena answered.
“Seriously? Well, I’ll be darned. That’s the year of my birthday. Ooo-eeee. Ain’t that some kinda co-inky-dink?”
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