Etched in Tears

by Cheryl Hollon

  Savannah ran her hand through her curls. “Hi Jacob. You’re in early.”

  He reappeared in his doorway. “Good morning, Miss Savannah. I’m early because I want to finish the decoding of Dennis Lansing’s file. You were right. A good night’s rest was helpful.” He turned and disappeared into his workroom.

  * * *

  After cleaning up their key chains following the sand etching of their monograms, the four students completed their final project by chemically etching a border design. Even the Rosenberg twins were attentive and the class finished a little early. As farewells were passed around, it was the only time Edith Maloney smiled at her.

  Chapter 27

  Friday morning

  Detective Parker leaned back in the conference chair with his hands behind his head. “I’m leaning toward the wife. Statistics support my choice. Harriet has a powerful motive and no confirmed alibi. That trust fund of hers is worth over five million dollars.”

  Officer Joy Williams stood in front of the white board in the Murder Room and pointed to a picture of Harriet Lansing. “Okay. Let me be devil’s advocate. How did she get him to the green bench sculpture? She’s not a big person. There are no drag marks at the scene, so presumably, he was carried and carefully arranged.”

  Detective Parker lifted his eyebrows. “The gravel area around the green bench sculpture could easily have been raked or swept clear of marks.”

  “What if that assumption is wrong? What if he was only injured somewhere else? Let’s say he was rendered unconscious. Then, after using his inhaler, he recovered enough to make it over to the bench. This could still be an accident.”

  “But the autopsy report is clear about the body being moved shortly after death. Dr. Gray noted signs of lividity in two separate areas. One was for a short time and one was more long-term.”

  “It still could have been an accident and then he was moved. Why do so many people have a motive to kill him?” asked Officer Williams.

  Detective Parker lowered his arms and leaned forward so the front legs of his chair returned to the floor. “That’s a good question. His reputation as an emerging artist was rising. His work was beginning to get global recognition. The exhibition at the Dali was a smart move. The art pieces that were sold at the reception are worth many times their purchase price. Would someone have killed him to increase their value? You can ask about the sold pieces and who bought them. ”

  Officer Williams made a note on the white board and turned to face Detective Parker. “That’s reaching a little far, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe.” He smiled. “So you can tell when I’m grasping at straws, can you? That’s good. Another question is would Dennis have threatened Lucas Brown with telling the director that he was using the gardens to help out the homeless vets?” He paused. “Also, what kind of information have you received from Savannah about Dennis’s time as an apprentice?”

  “She discovered a connection to other members of his gang, but she didn’t yet know how many are still in the area or, for that matter, how many are even still alive. She found the name of the social worker. His name is James Armstrong. She went to see him. She thinks he might know more about Dennis and the other apprentices than he told her. She’s still making more connections with the files that her dad encrypted.”

  “You need to follow up with Mr. James Armstrong and see if your badge will extract more names. Those encrypted files are a pain.”

  “Certainly, sir.”

  “Our problem director, Gina, has been continuing to avoid an interview. She needs to be questioned again, but I think you should give it another try before I resort to more formal demands on her.”

  “What line should I take?” Joy pulled out her notebook and poised her pen to take notes.

  “We need to catch her in a lie. Any lie. It can be about the delay of the guest list. It certainly makes no sense that it would take this long to get the list to us even with computer problems. It can be about any errors you might find on the list of employees that were present for the reception. Use your intuition to see if you can find a discrepancy. That will give us a strong reason to bring her in for formal questioning with a lawyer present.”

  “When did you ask her about the guest list?”

  “At our first meeting on Monday morning. It’s now Friday morning. You can tell her that I’m in a blind fury and have started the process of serving her with a warrant.” Detective Parker stood up. “In truth, I’m slammed right now, so I want you to temporarily—notice that I said temporarily—take the lead on this. Follow up with Gina and talk to the social worker.”

  “Are you going to the candlelight memorial service tonight?”

  “No, I’ll be stuck here wrapping up paperwork on my last two cases. I think it would be helpful if you went. Take note of who attends and what their reactions are. It might be a complete waste of time, but emotions run high at these events and something may come up that will narrow our investigation.”

  Officer Williams nodded. “I’ll stop by here on my way back and type up a report.”

  “I’m confident that you will have something new to tell me about tonight.”

  Chapter 28

  Friday morning

  Savannah felt a huge sense of relief that the etching class had finally ended. After Jacob completed the translation of Dennis Lansing’s file, they drove over to Webb’s Glass Shop, unloaded the kiln, and reloaded it for the last time to complete the big Vinoy Hotel dining room order. The last load would come out of the kiln early Saturday morning. They were going to finish in the nick of time.

  “Good morning, Amanda. Happy last day of class to you, ” said Savannah as they passed through the office into the classroom.

  It was empty and Amanda was flipping through her planning book on the lectern. She looked up. “Hi guys. Hey, before I forget, I’ve got an idea. I want to open up Webb’s for some open instruction hours. It occurred to me that some of our students are not quite ready for a permanent workspace at Webb’s Studio, but could use help with projects after they’ve had a beginning class.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” said Savannah.

  “Sure is.” Amanda stood tall at the compliment. “When a class is held from ten to one o’clock, that still leaves, say, from two to five that could be scheduled that way. We could offer some introductory prices to start.”

  Savannah looked up to the ceiling. “If we charge about a third of the class fee, that should reduce the expectation of instruction, but give folks a place to work. Brilliant idea!” She raised her hand and they high-fived.

  “I’ll make up some flyers and hand them out to my students. I think the invitation should be personal, don’t you?”

  “Absolutely. That way you can play up the individual instruction aspect. You know, only a select few of my students are invited. That will keep it exclusive.”

  Jacob followed Savannah into the supply room and they checked the kiln. She bent down and read the temperature on the control panel. “It’s still too hot inside to open the lid. We’ve got to wait until it gets down to at least under two hundred degrees or the quick change in temperature might crack the plates. That would be a big disaster. Patience is good.”

  She turned to Jacob. “Sorry, I miscalculated the cool-down time. But then sometimes in this heat and humidity, the kiln holds the heat longer.” She reached over to scratch Suzy who never seemed to tire of being carried everywhere.

  The front door bell jangled. Edward pushed in the door with his shoulder and made his way into the shop carrying a tray with three iced coffees, a root beer, and a plate of scones. “Good morning, all. I’ve got a new scone recipe I want you to test before I inflict it on my customers.” He rested the corner of the tray on the edge of the cash register counter. “Are we meeting in the back?” He bobbed his head toward the office.

  “What kind of scone?” Jacob asked as they made their way to the back of the shop.

  As soon as she entered the office, A
manda pulled out one of the shelves in the oak rolltop desk.

  Edward placed the tray down and handed Jacob his root beer. “The scones are a new recipe of ginger cinnamon with golden raisins. It’s a new flavor for you, so you get to try a miniature version.” Edward sat, then pointed to a scone that was literally bite sized.

  Jacob grinned and took the scone. “I’ll try this later.”

  “Well, I love ginger.” Savannah grabbed one and sat, which prompted a squeak from the old oak chair. “We need to talk about Dennis’s investigation. Jacob, did you bring the slip of paper with the encrypted gang member names?”

  “No, but I remember them.”

  “Great, before we leave, get them from the file cabinet. I want to study them before I hand them over to Detective Parker.”

  Jacob smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Ma’am? Ma’am?” Savannah could feel a flush in her cheeks. “I despise—wait, you know I don’t like that.”

  Amanda giggled. “Looks to me like someone’s developing a sense of humor.”

  Savannah scratched the back of her neck. “Well played. Anyway, let’s recap. I’ll update Parker on Dennis’s past after we get the kiln loaded for the last run of the Vinoy Hotel charger plates.”

  Edward spoke around the half-scone that he had in his mouth. “That’s cutting it pretty fine, isn’t it? They’re due tomorrow?”

  “Yes, you have a responsibility as my new paperwork drudge, to remind me to build twice as much slack time as I think I need into any large order. On a bright note, they’re going to pay me the balance on delivery.”

  “That should be enough to get you out of sales tax trouble.”

  Jacob looked directly at Savannah. “What do you mean by tax trouble? Is this bad? Are you going out of business?”

  Savannah reached out to pat Jacob, but pulled her hand back just in time. “No, this is a misunderstanding with the State of Florida that Edward has untangled for me. I owe a fine, which Edward is still negotiating with the Florida Department of Revenue. Even at its current value—which is in error—I can easily pay as soon as the charger plates are delivered.” She calmed her voice. “There’s absolutely no chance of closing Webb’s over this. It’s an administration error.”

  Amanda reached for the last scone. “As far as Savannah and I’ve been able to figure out regarding the instances of Gina’s blackout times in social media, the first one corresponds to the times that Dennis was off-line as well. That was a couple weeks ago and then he was off-line at the exhibit reception and never posted again. I think we should talk to Gina about that coincidence.”

  “Officer Williams said that Gina hasn’t been cooperating with her and Detective Parker,” said Savannah. “But we can talk to her at tonight’s candlelight memorial ceremony.”

  “We also need to confront her about her prescheduled posts,” said Amanda.

  “I’ll leave that to the police.” Savannah drank the last of her iced coffee and put the glass back on Edward’s tray. “Is everyone available to attend the candlelight memorial ceremony? It’s tonight at seven in the Dali Museum gardens.”

  Jacob nodded.

  “Sorry,” said Edward. “I’ve got a new sales representative from an Atlanta brewery, called Sweetwater, coming to Queen’s Head tonight. Their IPA 420 is a fast seller around town and I want to offer it to our customers. If I miss this appointment, I’ll lose at least a month’s worth of sales.”

  “I’d love to come,” Amanda said. “Jacob has been telling me about Dennis’s exhibit and I want to see it before it moves on.”

  “Actually, it’s attracting record crowds and each of the exhibit pieces have sold at triple their original prices. I think it will extend by a few weeks at least.” Savannah stood and ran a hand through her hair. “Hang on a second. That’s something that the police need to know.” She reached for her phone and texted Officer Williams. She nodded to Jacob. “Let’s check the kiln again. I’m getting restless for some reason.”

  Jacob drained the last of his root beer. “Maybe it has something to do with the exhibit. Did you know that there’s a handwritten love letter etched into one of the pieces? It is signed from Savannah. Is that you?”

  Edward frowned. “A what?” He bolted straight out of his chair. “A love letter?”

  Savannah put her head in her hands. “Yes, Jacob. That would be me. I saw that some of his etched pieces had personal mementoes etched into the works, and I did spot that one.”

  “Of course there would be love notes!” Amanda got up to stand in front of Edward. “She was fourteen. That’s what girls do. How many girls sent you love notes when you were in high school?”

  Edward reacted with a crooked little smile. “Fair point.” He walked over to Savannah and stroked her arm. “Sorry, luv. I’m a bit twitchy.” He bent down to kiss her on the cheek.

  “I hate for anyone to see which one it was.” Savannah sighed in a puff. “I saw it at the exhibit reception. It was one of the sickeningly sweet ones. I was too embarrassed to point it out.”

  Amanda sat back down. “No complaining. Embarrassing or not, you are commemorated in an artwork. How cool is that?”

  “Way cool,” said Savannah and she smiled wide then her brow wrinkled. “Wait a minute. If there is one of my love notes in the exhibit, what about other mementoes?”

  “Has anyone examined the pieces?” Edward placed his empty glass on the tray.

  “No, but Jacob could spot something. We need to get over there and look at each piece closely,” said Savannah. “Maybe we can squeeze in a trip right before lunch?”

  Jacob nodded. “Is the kiln ready?”

  Savannah jumped up from the desk. “Right.” She checked her watch. “It should be ready to unload. Okay, guys. I’ll see you all at the ceremony. Let’s meet at Webb’s Studio after. Four sets of eyes should be able to pick up some indications of suspicious behavior. All four of our current suspects will be there.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “The widow, the museum director, the security guard, and the politician.”

  Amanda laughed. “It sounds like the tagline of a new blockbuster movie.”

  * * *

  At the Dali, Jacob held Suzy in his arms while he examined each piece in Dennis Lansing’s exhibit. Savannah followed him with a notebook copying down a list of each piece and the documents that were forever immortalized in his works.

  The exhibit was crowded. The sensation of Dennis’s murder had been artfully reimagined as a “young artist’s last dreams” and only available as a complete collection for a few weeks. It was an effective campaign by the museum, but felt tacky commercial. There was barely enough room to move and it slowed their progress through the exhibit.

  The etching elements were in varying levels of precision. Some were distorted images that had been unevenly sand etched to create a carefree tone. Other pieces were etched to almost a scientific precision so that you felt the actual document was embedded in the optical quality glass. One of those pieces was the image of Savannah’s love letter.

  “Rats!” Savannah said when she saw which one of her girlish love notes Dennis had chosen to etch into a large red swirl of glass. Did he mean to embarrass me? It would be one of the gushy ones with a heart and initials at the bottom.

  She felt her cheeks turn red as Jacob examined the piece with a serious amount of attention. But it only appeared that way to her because of the note. He gave that no extra attention. He studied them all equally.

  She turned around suddenly as she felt the tears slide down her cheeks. She wiped them away quickly and lifted her eyes to stop the flow. Buck up. This is not helpful to Jacob.

  He moved to the next piece and began the same type of studied examination.

  Savannah felt the tension slip from the back of her neck. Of course he doesn’t get the connection. He thinks of these as art objects, not emotional icons in a young man’s life. I feel so sad that Dennis is gone. He was kinder to me than I knew. So much of what I am today is tied
to his actions so long ago. Stop thinking that you were rejected. You were saved.

  They continued to examine the exhibits until all were listed in Savannah’s notebook with the etched documents described and copied word-for-word. “Does anything strike you as odd or unusual?”

  Jacob nodded yes.

  “Really? Which one?” Savannah could hear the high pitch in her voice.

  Jacob picked up Suzy.

  This place is not good for Jacob. She calmed herself by taking a slow breath. “Had enough of the crowd?”

  He nodded yes.

  “Let’s find a quiet place to talk about the exhibit. Okay?”

  He nodded yes. She led him downstairs and out into the back garden. He was still holding Suzy when they sat on a small stone bench beside the wishing tree. It was a Florida ficus, over two-stories tall, that carried thousands of plastic streamers created from the admission wristbands. On the back of them were the written wishes of museum visitors from around the world.

  “Is this better?” Savannah asked.

  Jacob put Suzy down on the ground and she settled into her Sphinx pose looking up at him in concern. “Yes, that’s better. I found a note in one of the artworks that could have been a dangerous choice. It was a note from someone named Chase. It was telling Dennis to meet him at the regular drop site in order to get his normal order. It also urged him to be on time so that his brother wouldn’t be left to go cold turkey.”

  “That’s the name that was mentioned in my dad’s letter.” Her forehead wrinkled; then she turned back to Jacob. “Which artwork is it?”

  “It’s the one right next to your love note.”

  Savannah looked down. Suzy was at ease and rested her head on her paws. Jacob is fine now.

  “Sorry about the crowds. I should have considered that. Let’s get you back to Webb’s Studio.”

  Savannah stood to go and nearly bumped into Lucas Brown. She looked down at him with a stern frown. “How long have you been listening?”