by Ann Warner
“Wow, I have no idea where you got a bizarre idea like that.”
I was practically panting with fury. “I want you both out of my apartment, right this minute.”
“Your car is also in violation,” Mr. Souter said.
“What car?” Jeff said.
“Why, that one.” Mr. Souter pointed out the window. “I only recently discovered she had a car. She should have reported it and paid the parking fee.”
“Do you mean that green one?” Jeff said, peering in the direction Mr. Souter was pointing.
“Yes. Hard to miss, isn’t it.”
“Have you completely lost your mind, Mother?” Jeff said, turning to face me.
“I most certainly have not. And if the two of you do not remove yourselves from my apartment this instant, I’ll call the police.”
“And tell them what?” Jeff said.
“That you’re trespassing.”
I knew, though, even if I managed to get them to leave today, that wouldn’t be the end of it. The Hopper would have to leave as well. I wanted to howl at the thought, but I was determined not to give my son and Mr. Souter that satisfaction.
As we stood glaring at each other, I picked up my phone and dialed Mac.
“I need your help, right now, Mac. There are people in my apartment, and they won’t leave.”
He said he’d come immediately.
“Who’s Mac?” Jeff asked.
I refused to answer him. Instead I turned my back on them and called Lill, who agreed to stand by and open the back door for Mac.
The next fifteen minutes were some of the longest of my life since they were passed in silence. When Mac arrived, he was dressed in jeans and a parka, and he had a young boy and a dog with him.
I gestured for them to come in.
“Sorry, Josephine, I had to bring Teddy. His mother’s at the store. And this,” he pointed to the dog, “is Bruno.”
With a solemn expression, the boy extended a hand. When I shook it, he grinned at me. It was such an infectious and totally joyous grin, I grinned back. I looked up from greeting the boy to see Lill standing behind Mac with a questioning expression. I gestured for her to come in as well.
“Mac, Lill, I don’t believe you know my son, Jeffrey. Jeff, this is Lillian Fitzel and Detective Darren McElroy of the Montgomery police force.”
Jeff stepped forward and, with a wary look, shook Mac’s hand but not Lill’s. Mr. Souter looked on, obviously uncomfortable.
“I understand Josephine asked you to leave, but you refused?” Mac said.
“Josephine,” Mr. Souter said, making me clench my jaw, “knows we have every right to enter the apartments of our residents if we have cause to believe something is amiss.”
“Oh, is that what you’re calling it?” I said. “Something amiss?”
Mr. Souter shrugged at Mac as if to say, You can see, can’t you, how unreasonable she is? But his actual words were, “We’re here because Josephine’s son just reported to us that she owns a painting worth millions of dollars that was not included on her inventory list. That’s not only a violation of her resident agreement, it’s a security nightmare.”
Mac stood blinking in obvious surprise, and I wished I’d told him about the painting, but the subject never came up.
“I didn’t neglect to include the painting on the inventory. My son insisted on taking care of all the paperwork for me. I had no idea I was supposed to report it.”
“You told me management knew about the painting,” Jeff said.
My heart sank. There was no way I was telling Mr. Souter that Devi had known about the painting and not informed him. He’d likely fire her.
While we were talking, Teddy and the dog walked carefully around the room, looking at everything. Now Teddy came and stood in front of me.
“May I have a drink, please?” The words were thick and not completely clear, but he’d spoken so slowly, I was able to understand, and I could have kissed him for taking everyone’s attention away from what Jeff had just said.
Mac moved toward the boy, but I raised a hand to ward him off.
“Of course you may,” I told Teddy, taking him by the hand and leaving the room. The dog, Bruno, followed us into the kitchen.
All I had to offer was either orange juice or grape juice. After careful consideration, Teddy chose the grape juice, and I poured him half a glass. I also filled a bowl with water that Bruno lapped up, slopping most of it on the floor. Oh well, it was time I mopped anyway. While I was in the kitchen, I listened as Mac dealt with my unwelcome visitors.
By the time Teddy, Bruno, and I returned to the living room, Mr. Souter was being escorted to the door by Mac, who promised to come speak to him shortly. Lill sat primly on the couch, and Jeff stood, arms folded, next to the painting.
“Okay,” Mac said to Jeff, once the door closed. “Can you explain why you felt the need to bring this matter up to Mr. Souter?”
“I’m her son. And it’s not safe for my mother to have a painting worth millions just hanging here where anyone can help themselves.”
“You don’t contest the fact that she owns it?”
“No.” He looked away, and his tone was sulky when he continued. “I’m just concerned for her safety.”
“Seems to me, you’re the one who compromised her safety by announcing to the world the painting is here.”
“I don’t understand. How is it my mother knows you?”
“Your mother and I are friends,” Mac said.
I wanted to kiss him. Instead, I went over and sat next to Teddy, who’d taken a seat next to Lill and was carefully sipping his grape juice. Bruno flopped at my feet, dribbling a bit of spit on my shoe. I found I didn’t mind a bit.
“And I don’t intend to stand by and watch anyone bully her,” Mac added with one of those commanding looks I’m partial to.
The power of that was obviously not lost on Jeff, who shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. I wanted to give him a see, I have friends look, but I didn’t dare. Instead, Lill and I exchanged a conspiratorial glance.
Jeff finally stopped fidgeting and glared at Mac, and Mac looked back with that serene look I also find so attractive. The one that should melt Devi’s heart.
“Jeff doesn’t need to worry about me or my upkeep anymore,” I told Mac. “I accept that I am fully responsible for myself from now on.”
“Responsible? You think it’s responsible to have a painting like this on your wall? And what was all that you said to Souter? About him helping himself? You think he’s a thief and yet you take a chance like this?”
“I wasn’t taking a chance until you told him.” I kept my tone even so I didn’t upset Teddy. Or Bruno, who nevertheless raised his head, looking mournful, and letting out a brief, odd woof.
I glanced at Mac, who was giving me a piercing look, but when he spoke, his words were addressed to Jeff.
“Your mother has stated in front of witnesses that she accepts all responsibility for herself and for her belongings. Given that she’s of sound mind, I think you need to honor her request that you leave her alone.”
I thought there was little chance of that, now that Jeff knew about the painting and suspected I had even more in reserve, which I did.
“Good-bye, Jeff,” I said, stepping around Bruno and going to the door and opening it.
Jeff gave me a this isn’t over look before stepping through the door. I closed it behind him, took a deep breath, and walked over to sit down, my legs suddenly wobbly.
“Thank you, Mac.” My voice wobbled as much as my legs.
“You accused Souter of being the thief?” His tone was stern.
“He made me angry, insisting I should have listed the painting on lists that he controls. And just look what good that’s done other people.”
Mac shook his head. “It would have been better if you hadn’t said anything about that.”
“Sorry. Yes, you’re right, of course. But what right did he have to come in here and
tell me I can’t have something valuable in my apartment?”
Teddy shifted next to me. I’d forgotten for the moment he was there.
He held out his glass to me. “May I have more?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll see to that,” Lill said, getting up and taking Teddy by the hand. Bruno lumbered to his feet and followed the two.
“Is he your son?” I asked, nodding toward Teddy. It occurred to me that if Teddy was Mac’s son, one thing Mac would never have to worry about was the boy having him declared incompetent.
Mac shook his head, appearing distracted. “He’s my neighbor, and exactly how valuable are we talking?”
“Based on the last time a Hopper sold at auction, some where in the neighborhood of twenty-five to thirty-five million.”
Mac cleared his throat. “Dollars?”
When I nodded, he stepped over to the painting and examined it.
“I see,” he said.
I had no idea what it was he saw, but just then Lill, Teddy, and Bruno trooped out of the kitchen and back to their seats on the sofa.
“He’s going to try to take it all away from me,” I said.
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Mac said. “But right now, I need to speak to Souter. Could Teddy stay here with you while I do that?”
“Of course,” I said.
After Mac left, Lill, who has grandchildren, offered to get some books and toys for Teddy. When she gave Teddy his choice of what to do, he wanted us to read to him. So we did, using funny voices that made Teddy giggle.
By the time Mac returned, we’d finished all three books Lill had brought.
“How did it go with Mr. Souter?” I said.
“He agreed that he had no business harassing you, but now that he knows, he doesn’t want the responsibility for having the painting in this facility. We can talk about all that later, though. Okay?” He nodded toward Teddy, who was looking sleepily through the book we’d just finished reading. “Let me take them home. Then we’ll talk.”
He gathered up the boy and dog, and left Lill and me sitting there in a bit of a daze. I finally pulled myself together and made us tea.
“What are you going to do, Josephine,” Lill asked after an interval of quiet contemplation of our tea cups.
“The painting will have to go, of course.”
“Yes. I expect that’s what Mac will advise you to do.”
We continued to sip in silence for several minutes.
Finally, Lill set her cup down. “You know, this situation does offer definite possibilities.”
“What do you mean?”
“If Edna is our thief and she found out about the painting, she’d probably try to steal it. And we could catch her in the act.”
“She sure couldn’t tuck it in her pocket.”
“No, but for millions, I bet she’d find a way. My guess? She’d probably ask Eddie to help.”
“Two birds,” I said.
“Exactly. I doubt Eddie would know a Hopper from a hula hoop. Is there something you can hang in its place?”
“That’s what I did the last time Jeff came to visit. Of course, that time I had a bit more warning than I did this morning.”
Lill settled back, her expression smug. “So there we are, Josephine. You take steps to protect the Hopper. And I’ll make sure Edna finds out you have a painting worth millions.”
“How will you manage that?”
“I’ll tell Myrtle, of course.”
“We’d better not tell Mac,” I said.
“No. I expect he’d make us promise to do no such thing. Oh my, he would.”
“Do you think we should ask Devi to help?”
Lill frowned, then shook her head. “I believe the less she knows, the better off she’ll be.”
I debated whether to tell Lill that Devi already knew about the painting, but then I decided it no longer mattered very much.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Mac
After taking Teddy home, I returned to discuss Josephine’s situation with her as both a police officer and a friend.
She agreed that the painting would have to be removed from her apartment, and asked me to help with that. And so later, while most of the residents were at dinner, I returned to Brookside, loaded the painting into the back of my SUV, and with Josephine providing directions, drove to a climate-controlled storage facility.
“You know, it’s odd,” she told me as we drove. “For some reason, I never got around to canceling the unit. Maybe I always knew I wouldn’t be able to keep the painting with me.” She sighed, and I could tell she was upset.
I, on the other hand, was relieved to know the painting was some where other than Josephine’s apartment. After we dropped it off and made sure the storage unit was secure, Josephine asked me to take her to dinner.
“You will let Souter know, immediately, that the painting’s been removed?” I said, cutting into my steak. She had chosen one of the nicer restaurants in Montgomery, and the food was exceptional.
She made a humming noise, not answering my question, but that was something I considered par for the course with Josephine.
“Devi is under the impression you’re married,” she said, effectively pulling my attention away from my perfectly cooked meal. “But you’re not, are you.”
“No. I’m divorced.”
“Why let her think you’re a married man? Are you involved with someone? Teddy’s mother?”
It was the most direct Josephine had ever been with me, and I didn’t like it. When I didn’t respond right away, she sighed.
“Lill looked at your handwriting and Devi’s. She said you two are an almost perfect match. You do realize you don’t get many chances like that?”
I sat blinking at Josephine, remembering how unconcerned, self-satisfied really, I’d been about turning over a sample of my handwriting to her.
The waiter stopped by and asked how we were doing, and that gave me the chance to shift topics, but Josephine was having none of it.
“Lill said your handwriting does have caution strokes. And that means you’re probably overcompensating for a past mistake and it could be keeping you from committing your heart. But if you take the leap, you and Devi would have a better chance of making a go of it than eighty percent of couples.”
Lillian’s analysis about me being cautious hit the nail on the head more squarely than I’d like to admit. “So you’re saying there’s a twenty percent chance we’d fail. That doesn’t seem like very good odds to me.”
That obviously annoyed Josephine, but frankly, I was annoyed with myself for defending a position I wasn’t all that interested in defending. They’d all gotten to me—Josephine, Lillian, Devi. Devi most of all. I’d let down my guard and opened my heart, despite my determination not to.
But right now I couldn’t ask Devi out, regardless, because Colter’s suit made a personal relationship between us a conflict of interest. When I told Josephine that, her lips tightened. Shortly after that, she said she was ready to go back.
When I signaled for the bill, the waiter came over. “That’s been taken care of, sir,” he said.
“I arranged payment when I went to freshen up.” Josephine looked quite pleased with herself as she accepted the card and receipt the waiter now handed her.
I shook my head. “Not only do you beat me at poker . . .”
“You can pay me back by taking Devi out. Just keep in mind, she eats mostly vegetarian, so this might not be the best choice.”
And on that note, I drove Josephine back to Brookside.
As I helped her out of the vehicle, she took one last parting shot. “Don’t let stupid male pride get in your way, Mac. I’m quite certain you’re courageous enough to overcome something that’s no longer doing you a bit of good.”
Driving home, I wondered if I really was the man Josephine believed me to be. Especially since I’d been unwilling to admit up to now, even to myself, that my decision not to get i
nvolved with Devi had been driven by cowardice.
Still, it was a relief I didn’t have to make a decision about any of that until the suit was settled.
And that could take months.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Lillian
“I have the most delicious bit of gossip for you,” I told Myrtle when I encountered her on the way in to lunch on Sunday. I pointed to a table for two, and we walked over and took those seats.
She leaned toward me. “Is it about Eddie?” Her tone was eager, and the question about Eddie threw me off for a moment.
“Well, are you going to tell me your news or not?” Myrtle said, jerking me abruptly back on course.
“It’s not about Eddie. It’s about Josephine. But you mustn’t tell anybody.”
“I won’t,” Myrtle said, pinching her lips together with her fingers.
“Good. Well, it seems that Josephine’s investing career didn’t end when her husband took over her stocks. She figured out a way to hide her activities after that, and she did amazingly well. As a matter of fact, she used some of the money she made investing to buy a painting. And now that painting, which has been hanging right here in her Brookside living room, is worth millions.”
I took great care in the way I said that last bit. I wanted to give the impression the painting was still there, while not exactly saying that it was.
Myrtle’s eyes had widened as I spoke, and her hand came up to cover the O her mouth was forming.
“Mr. Souter was absolutely livid when he discovered she hadn’t reported it,” I added.
“That is delicious. Who’s the painter?”
“Someone named Edward Hopper.”
“Never heard of him.”
“You’ve heard of Monet, though?”
“Water lilies, right?”
“Right. It seems that in art circles, this Hopper’s as famous as Monet.”
“Hopper, you say.” She was obviously working to commit the name to memory. “Have you seen the painting?”