“Is that why we haven’t seen much of you these last weeks?” Libby asked.
“Other than getting this place in shape, I’ve been spending my mornings on this work.”
Paul wandered over to the food table to examine what his wife had prepared. He reached for a stuffed mushroom, but before he could pick it up, Mimi smacked his hand away, telling him to wait until the other guests arrive.
Rachel rushed through the door a few minutes later, apologetic for being a bit late.
“Okay. Rachel’s here,” Mimi said. “Pull off the sheet before anyone else gets here.”
Steve took both of Rachel’s hands in his and said, “Rachel, I want you to be the one to remove the sheet. It was you who gave me the inspiration and the vision.”
Libby and Mimi exchanged glances. Rachel’s eyes were only on Steve’s.
“All right.” She dropped his hands and stood in front of the painting. “Wow, this seems like an honor.”
She moved to the side of the painting and gingerly grasped the side of the sheet.
“Is this like christening a ship?” Mimi asked.
Steve nodded. “I guess it’s the same type of honor.”
“Go ahead. What are you waiting on?” Libby asked, her voice edgy with anticipation.
Rachel slowly pulled on the edge of the sheet. It fell in slow motion. Libby thought it was never going to slide off the side of the painting.
When it finally fell to the floor, a starkly white painting of a young woman with white blonde hair falling in waves over her shoulders was revealed. A white dove in flight carried a green twig in its mouth. The woman wore a flowing, white, empire gown, her right hand reaching out toward the dove, the other cupping a small baby bump. Her crystal blue eyes were the most outstanding element of the portrait.
Libby could not turn away from the expressive eyes that seemed to bore into her.
“Steve, this is the most beautiful portrait I’ve ever seen,” Libby said. “How did you get this image?”
“From the way Rachel described her the day we did the smudge.”
Rachel was still standing next to the painting, tears streaming down her face. “That’s her.” She turned to Steve. “You saw her through me. It’s her.” She fell into Steve’s arms.
“Who is that girl?” Paul asked.
Mimi picked a cocktail napkin from the top of a stack on the adjacent drink table and wiped a tear. “It’s the girl in the wall.”
“I thought they didn’t know who she was.”
Mimi sniffed. “They don’t.”
Paul scratched his head. “If they don’t know who it is, how did he paint her portrait?”
“Rachel saw her in a vision.”
“What?”
“Why don’t you get some punch. It might make more sense if you drink a little.”
Kenji flew in the back door. “What’s going on? The front door is still locked.” He unlocked the front door and flung it open.
“No one is here but us,” Steve said.
“We need to be ready.” Kenji went to the drink table and poured himself a glass of white wine. He surveyed the group. “You all look very nice. This is going to be a successful, fabulous, perfect evening.”
Libby wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince them or himself.
Kenji stopped in front of the portrait. “Is that what you’ve been working on?”
“Yes. It’s called Peace and Forgiveness.”
“What a beautiful name,” Rachel said through her tears.
Rachel and Steve embraced again.
Mimi leaned in and whispered to Libby, “What is going on with those two?”
“Maybe one of your matchmaking schemes actually worked out?”
“Hello.” They turned to see a young lady at the front door. “Where should I set up my harp?”
• • •
Twenty minutes later, the gallery was full, and the room filled with melodious harp music. Kenji and Steve were beaming with pride in their work. In addition to the new painting, Steve also had multiple photographs and other paintings and sketches. Libby was impressed with the quality of the work they promoted.
The men from The Company arrived at almost the same time. Mr. Strauss arrived last with Brigitte in tow. They stopped by the drink table then convened in front of the portrait with the other men. Brigitte shook her head and moved on to examine the obelisk in the corner. She was a small, wiry woman, her short, light hair slicked back accentuating her face’s sharp edges.
Libby was minding the drink table when she caught a glimpse of Jack at the door. He came in with Ellen Sanders and another woman. Ellen’s tight bun was gone, and her hair fell in waves over her shoulders.
Libby waved at Jack across the room, and he made his way to her side, stopping to shake Steve’s hand and congratulate him on the launch.
Jack kissed her and accepted a glass of wine. “Wow, there’s a lot of people here.”
“See that guy talking to Kenji?”
Jack nodded.
“That’s the New York art dealer. This could be huge for them.”
“By the way, you look absolutely gorgeous tonight,” Jack said, kissing her again.
“Thanks. I’ll tell Julia you approve.”
He sipped his wine, then leaned in to whisper, “I do have a couple of things to tell you tonight.”
“Oh yeah?”
She poured wine into a glass and handed it to a woman in a skin tight red dress. Libby saw her arrive with the art dealer.
“I have information on Jeanette McDonald and the guy who threatened you at the park.”
Libby set the wine bottle on the table. “Let’s go out back.”
Jack brought his glass and followed her out the back door.
Once outside, he said, “After that little incident at the Boat Parade, I decided to dig deeper into Jeanette because of what Buddy told you about her being alive and living off the grid. I started doing a few searches, calling on a few friends. She works in a bait shop. She got married, changed her name and goes by Janet.”
“So, you know where she is?”
“I do. She lives in Everglades City. I have a cousin who lives down there. He checked her out for me. Buddy must have put the word out. I think it was her husband who held you at knife point. He wanted to scare you off, but I don’t think he meant to hurt you.”
Libby walked about the parking lot with her hand over her mouth. “He accomplished that all right. What are you going to do now?”
“I’d like to get a warrant to arrest him for assault with a deadly weapon, but I have no real proof it was him who threatened you.”
“You’re right. I didn’t see him. I wasn’t hurt…just scared.”
“That scared the life out of me!” He stopped, blew out a breath, regaining control. “Libby, he held a knife to your back and threatened to kill you.”
“I know, but it’s Christmas, and I wasn’t hurt. Just let it go for now. Please.”
“All right. For now, but I’m going to keep checking into him, and if I get one shred of proof, I’m getting that warrant.”
“Thank you.” She kissed him. “We’d better go back in. I’m shirking my beverage duties.”
He shook his head and kissed her again, then opened the door.
She was halfway inside when she turned and said, “Did you see the portrait of the woman in white on the wall?”
Jack shook his head. “No.”
“You need to.”
• • •
Back inside, Libby helped Mimi replenish the food while Jack walked around. He stopped in front of the portrait on the wall. He read the title plate and turned to catch Libby’s gaze across the room. She smiled and nodded. He turned back to the portrait as a woman bumped into his elbow.
“Excuse me,” she said.
“That’s all right.” He glanced at her, back at the portrait, then immediately returned his gaze to her. “You look familiar. Do I know you?”
Sh
e was a small woman, only about five feet tall, late fifties or early sixties, gray hair cut in a short bob.”
She looked him up and down. “You look familiar, too.” She pointed at him. “Are you Bobby Seiler’s youngest boy?”
“Yes, ma’am, I am.” He thought for a minute, then turned back to her. “Are you Mrs. Petersen, the vet’s wife?”
“Bingo.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I think I remember my father telling me Doc Petersen passed recently and your son has taken over the practice.”
She nodded. “Yes, he did. It’s all good.”
“Arcadia is a long way to come for something like this.”
“What…are you a cop?” she asked.
“Yes, actually.” He offered his hand. “Detective Jack Seiler at your service.”
She shook his hand. “Your daddy must be so proud. I haven’t seen him in years.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She continued staring at the portrait. “I used to live around here. I was visiting my daughter in Englewood and saw the story in the paper. I thought I’d come check it out.”
“I remember your husband coming out to the ranch. I used to tag along behind him, my dad and older brothers out to the barn.” Jack looked around. “How rude of me. Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thank you. I have to go. I just wanted to stop in real quick. My curiosity got the best of me.”
“Attention, everyone.” Steve was clanging a fork against a wine glass. “Thank you all for being here. Kenji and I are so excited at the turn out. Enjoy our exhibition and have some more of the delicious food from the Mariposa Café. Good night.”
Jack turned his attention back to the woman.
“It was good to see you.” She took one last glance at the portrait. “I must go.”
“I will tell my dad I saw you.”
“Please do.” She turned towards the door and then back to Jack. “I always wondered what happened to that gold digger Melanie Cooper.”
She continued to the front door.
The lights flickered for a second.
She looked up, then back at Jack and winked.
A thought crossed his mind. Could that be? No, it couldn’t be, could it?
Libby appeared at his elbow. “Jack, who was that woman? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
Chapter 17
Happy New Year
“Do you think that woman was her?” Libby asked.
They had returned to Libby’s house from the New Year’s Eve party at the Mariposa Inn. She hugged herself, taking in his scent before she slipped off his jacket and laid it gently across a chair. It was a chilly evening. On the walk home, he had helped her into his coat to ward off the cold and stop her shivering.
It was a fun evening that had continued from the gallery opening to the party at the Mariposa Inn where they had dinner with dancing afterwards. They celebrated Steve’s successful gallery opening, Rachel’s new shop, and they toasted to continuous success for the café and the new businesses. David and Ben played their favorite tunes, and Libby even joined them for a few.
“I do think it was her.” Jack loosened his tie and removed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water from the tap. “I called my dad to wish him Happy New Year, and I asked him about her.”
“What did he say?” Libby leaned across the counter.
All evening she had wondered who the mysterious woman was who had appeared at the gallery opening. Her eyes barely left the portrait of the girl in white.
“He said that The Petersens were both in the circus before Mr. Petersen became a veterinarian. Annie used to work the horses. My dad remembered Annie telling him about riding in the same trailer with the horses between circus performances.”
“Annie?”
“Yes. Her name is Annie Petersen.”
“Jack, does this mean that Annie Petersen is Annaliese Hobson? Annie could be a nickname for Annaliese. She’s been hiding in plain sight all these years.”
“I think so.”
Jack took his water glass into the living room. Libby followed, slipping off her shoes after she plopped onto the sofa.
“It’s amazing that she’s been able to stay hidden so long. Her and Jeanette McDonald.”
“Not really. You’ve done it.”
He sat next to her on the sofa and placed his water glass on the small coffee table.
“Touché.” She shook her head, hesitated for a moment, and then said,” I can’t help realizing the similarities between the three of us – Annaliese Hobson, Jeanette McDonald and me. All three of us left everything behind and started over with new names, new lives.”
“Each of you had some kind of event that pushed you toward that decision.”
“That’s true – Annie Hobson Petersen had an abusive father, Jeanette committed a crime and was running from the law, and then there’s me, betrayed, wounded…and hurt. All of us on the run.”
“But, as you said, each of you have made new lives, good lives.” Jack ran his forefinger along her cheek. “You’ve become quite introspective tonight.”
“It’s a new year. So much can change from one year to the next. Look at us. We didn’t even know each other last New Year’s.”
Jack gave a little snort. “Last New Year’s Eve, I was on-call, and I never would have believed this New Year’s would be any different. But, here we are.”
She met his gaze and asked, “What are you going to do about Annie?”
When he didn’t answer right away, she laid her head back on the sofa and stretched.
“Nothing.” He shrugged. “She hasn’t committed any crime.”
“You’re right. There’s no crime in joining the circus and then moving to Arcadia.”
Jack grew quiet, then turned to Libby, took her hand and ran his fingers across her knuckles “Libby, I need to tell you something.”
“That sounds ominous.” Her smile faded, and she pulled her hand away.
He turned to face her, his arm stretched across the back of the sofa, close enough for him to touch her shoulder.
“It’s nothing bad,” he said.
He settled into the sofa and began to make small circles on her bare shoulder.
Her red hair was pulled into an up-do with tendrils falling about her face and down her back. The soft light bounced off the shiny black beads on her dress.
“You are so beautiful,” he said.
“Thanks. You look pretty dapper yourself.”
She leaned in and kissed him. She pulled back, but he embraced her into an even deeper kiss.
She finally backed away and asked, “This is very nice, but what did you want to tell me before we got side tracked? I don’t like things hanging over my head. Just pull the band-aid off.”
He chuckled, kissed her lightly on the forehead and then rested his forehead against hers. “I do need to tell you this.”
He sat back, just out of her reach. “It appears that the trafficking ring has started up again.”
She pulled her feet under her on the sofa. “The girl at the marina?”
“Yes, the circumstances are very much like the girl we found out by Myakka last August. Do you remember?”
The previous August, Libby’s friend Pilar was kidnapped after she discovered a money laundering scheme at her place of employment. Libby was called to the morgue to make a possible identification. It was not Pilar, and the girl remained a Jane Doe.
“Yes,” Libby smiled. “I call that our first date.”
“The county morgue? I would say the conversation at the restaurant afterwards was more like a first date.”
She smiled at the teasing.
“Do you know if it’s the same players as last time?” Libby unconsciously massaged the scar in the palm of her right hand.
“I don’t know, but there are similarities in the way they’re running this operation.”
“T
he information on the missing flash drive must have been de-coded,” Libby said.
In the confusion of the rescue operation in Key West, a flash drive containing in-depth accounting, distribution and location information was never found. Libby had her suspicions of what happened to it, but she was never able to prove it.
“It appears so.”
“What about Max Holden?” she asked. “Is he still in Witness Protection?”
“As far as I know,” Jack said. “But if you ever hear from him, you must report it.”
“Of course, but I don’t think he would break protection and come around here,” she said. “I would think this would be the last place he would show up. There are cops here all the time.”
She playfully stroked his cheek.
“He sent you that song, so he obviously has some fascination or connection with you.”
Before Holden went into Witness Protection, he sent Libby a song he had written as a gift.
“He can have it back. It creeps me out.” Libby shuddered. “David still has it.”
“Good.”
“Is that all you needed to tell me?” she asked, her hand on his thigh.
He ran his fingers up her right cheek and into her hair. He slowly pulled on the pearled comb that held that side of her updo. “No, it isn’t.”
Her hair loosened but didn’t fall.
“Okay,” she said, removing her hand from his thigh.
“The Florida Department of Law Enforcement has created a new task force that will involve several local agencies up and down the west coast from St. Petersburg to Naples.”
“And they’ve asked you to participate?”
He slipped the comb from the left side out of her hair. The curls tumbled to her shoulders.
“Yes,” he said. “It will be in addition to my current case load, and it will probably involve surveillance and undercover work.”
She shook her curls loose, watching him as she did so.
“This is a good thing for your career,” she said. “I know that.”
He twirled his finger around an errant curl. “It is.”
“My mother hated it when my dad went undercover, and the few times I went undercover, I never told her.” She leaned forward. “I remember that rush of adrenalin, that high you get with fear and excitement. I know my dad had it, and I know you have it, too.”
Mistletoe & Missing Persons Page 10