by C A Phipps
“I’ll drop the orders off later,” Maddie said, as they loaded Honey with the boxes.
Ethan held her back when the boys went inside the bakery with Luke.
“Do you see what I see?” He pointed across the road to where Laura and Rob stood closely.
“Yoga finished some time ago. Have they been there all this time?”
“I think so.”
She grinned. “Should we do anything to help them?”
He pulled her close and kissed her nose. “Absolutely not. Let’s give them a little time to come to terms with things.”
“It’s been a couple of months.”
“That’s not long when you compare them to us.”
“I guess not.” Maddie was losing interest with Ethan’s hands on her waist.
He pulled her to him and kissed her thoroughly before letting her go. His kisses were sweeter than any cake she’d ever made.
Chapter Eighteen
The community center was buzzing as it usually did on a Saturday afternoon. A few different groups used the venue and sometimes the bookings overlapped. Right now the senior citizens were in their circle in one half of the hall, while Noah Jackson’s senior stretch group finished up on mats. Some of them would join the coffee or tea group, as it was affectionately known, when they were done.
There were plenty of interested looks from both groups when Maddie and the boys entered, but she imagined their interest was more for the Sheriff who carried the majority of the boxes.
Gran made tea and coffee with Mavis’s help while Maddie put a plate of pieces of cookie on a plate so that they could be sampled. Unlike their weekday group this one was far more impromptu, but well supported thanks to so many people spreading the word about the boy’s fundraising.
Mavis was the first one to buy a box. “These chocolate chip cookies are wonderful. You’ve done well boys. And they’re cheaper than Maddie’s,” she winked at her.
“I’m sure Maddie would have helped make them,” Nora added.
She shook her head. “I honestly didn’t. Like I said last week, this is all the work of the boys and Luke.”
Nora made a rude sound of derision at the mention of her intern’s name.
“He must find it difficult with people judging him by his brother’s deeds,” Mavis said. “His mother is such a sweetie, that Luke must take after her.”
Maddie knew Mavis thought she was being kind, but she wouldn’t be the only one who heard the unspoken words that Luke’s brother must have taken after his father. She also knew Mr. Chisholm was trying to atone for his part in his eldest son’s criminal activity by cutting all ties with Mickey Findlay and his cohorts. This, in turn, had made Luke a lot happier and Maddie was pleased, since he was still living with his parents, which would have been almost impossible if Mr. Chisholm hadn’t admitted the error of his ways.
Just when the town was slowly coming to terms with what had happened last summer, now they had to deal with Owen’s murder. It was bound to have a negative effect and it certainly didn’t help that people like Nora were only too happy to remind everyone in case they did forget.
Maddie left them to help Mavis and Gran refresh cups, while the group munched on cookies and put orders in for whole boxes of them. She wondered what would happen when the boys had enough for their bikes. Maybe it would be a good opportunity for fundraising on a permanent basis for other causes in the community.
She was thinking on that when she saw the gray-haired man in the opposite corner of the room. He’d been there for some time, not engaging with anyone, but every time Maddie looked up he seemed to be looking at her. He looked familiar, yet she couldn’t remember ever having met or spoken to him before.
His interest in her was a little unnerving, and she felt compelled to speak to him. She crossed the room.
“Would you like to join the group for a cup of tea or coffee?”
A wariness had crept over his face as she’d approached. “Me? Why?”
She smiled gently, sorry that she had put him on the spot. “You looked lonely over here by yourself.”
He looked down an elegant nose. “I can’t imagine what would bring you to that conclusion.”
He was very tall. His jumper frayed, with leather patches in the elbows that were cracked and what look liked paint on his fingers.
“You’re not Nicholas Brack are you?”
He paled. “How did you know that?”
“Lucky guess?”
His eyes narrowed and he shook his head.
She shrugged. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure until I got closer. Until recently I didn’t know you lived here. I saw a picture of you online.”
He was more accepting of this and gave a wry smile.
“Sorry to disappoint you. That picture was taken more than a decade ago.”
She smiled back. “It still looks like you. I could bring a coffee over here if you don’t want to mix.”
He nodded. “I admit, I’m not much of a mixer. I accept your offer. Black coffee, no sugar.”
She went to the tray and poured his coffee. Gran and Luke were continuing to do the rounds and the twins were delighting a small group with tales of their adventures. She brought him a cookie too.
“Here you go.”
“How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing. It’s a sample, so you buy more to support the boys, or you come to my bakery and buy other things,” she winked.
He took a quick glance around the room, then smiled again. “I knew you were the owner of Maple Lane Bakery, even though I’ve never been inside it. Seems everyone knows who you are.”
“It’s a small town, but I bet you know all about that.”
He grimaced. “Not small enough. Sorry, don’t mind me. I’m not having a good day.”
He didn’t continue, but Maddie could tell he had something on his mind. “I’m sorry to hear that. Did you want to talk to me about something?”
He took a gulp of coffee and blanched as it burnt his throat. “You’re very astute.”
“You’ve been looking at me for some time and I don’t think it was in the hopes of free coffee and cookies.”
He looked around again. “I have been watching you, and as much as these cookies are great, you’re right. You have a reputation for helping people sort out their troubles.”
Maddie was so surprised by this she laughed aloud.
He frowned. “You can laugh, but it’s true.”
“Let me get this straight. You are in some kind of trouble and you want my help?” She was astounded. Here was a famous painter asking a baker to fix his troubles. It sounded more ridiculous said aloud.
He lowered his voice. “Big trouble, as it happens, and I have no idea what to do about it.”
It was her turn to look around the room, but all she could see were the usual crowd now that the stretching group had gone. Still, it didn’t pay to be overheard.
“Do you want to talk here or go somewhere else?”
“You’d be willing to help me? Just like that?” he asked.
“Mr. Brack, I don’t know you, but I’ll help if I can. That’s what we do in Maple Falls. Of course, it does depend on what the problem is. Have you done something illegal?”
His hand that held his cup shook and he looked away. They’d been speaking quietly and everyone else was at the other end of the room, making plenty of noise. Still, she could sense his reluctance.
Eventually, he sighed. “It would be better to talk here, but I have to know if you could keep this between us? At least for a while.”
She said the only thing she could, because after all, famous or not, he really was a stranger to her. “Without knowing what it’s about, I’m sorry, I can’t promise.”
He took a large breath. “Yes. It’s illegal.” He threw the words out as if they would choke him.
“I see. Will you tell me what it is?” She was glad he didn’t want to go anywhere, in fact now she knew it was illegal, having people close by
made her feel a great deal safer. Not that he was the least bit threatening, but history had proved that you shouldn’t be too quick to let your guard down.
He began to talk much more quietly and Maddie had to step closer to hear him.
“The thing is, if I tell you what I know, then you’ll be in as much danger as I am right now.”
Maddie couldn’t help taking another look around them. “Danger? From whom?”
He finished his coffee, the cookie, barely touched, lay in a napkin, which he tucked into a pocket of his corduroy pants. “I believe you’ve met them.”
She took a stab at guessing, since it felt right. “The men from the gallery?”
“That’s them. Scary lot, aren’t they?” He tried and failed miserably to smile.
“Very,” she agreed.
“I met Mr. Smith, first. He’s the one with the charm. I needed money, which somehow he knew about. He offered me some. A great deal of it, actually. I wanted to refuse, but I was about to lose my house, and at the time, that felt like the worse thing in the world. My wife and I had lived there when we first married, before our careers took off. It has a lot of wonderful memories. Now I’m trapped into doing things I don’t want to, because I was a coward.” His hands shook around the cup and his eyes looked haunted.
Maddie couldn’t help her loud intake of breath. How was it possible, that a painter of his ability could sink so low? She had to ask the elephant in the room question. “I don’t understand why you needed money, when your paintings sell for tens of thousands.”
He flinched. “They did. To be honest, some still do. The problem is that I haven’t been able to paint for some time and once you’ve sold a painting that’s it. It’s gone from you forever,” he added, his mouth tipping down.
She chewed her lip. Perhaps it was like making and decorating a cake? You might spend hours on it and love the finished product, but ultimately it was always for someone else and eventually you had to let it go. Still, even the most expensive cake didn’t bring in as much money as a highly prized piece of art.
“I don’t mean to be indelicate, but what happened to all the money?”
He put one hand deep into his pockets and studied the floor. “Gambling. I’m not proud of it. In fact, I am deeply ashamed.”
She could see by his haunted look that this had been hard to admit. “What kind of gambling?” she probed gently.
“The bad, out of control, borrowing money, kind. Like I say, I was about to lose my house.”
“So what did you have to do to earn the money?”
He shrugged. “Paint.”
Maddie was totally confused. “You just said that you can’t paint.”
He toyed with the coffee cup. Swirling the dregs, as if he were going to read tea leaves, which would have been difficult since he’d had coffee. His voice finally burst from him like a machine gun. “I can’t paint anything new. I’m covering old paintings with new work.”
“That painting of your wife’s at the gallery, was it an original?”
“I wish it was. That’s a copy. A good copy, but it’s the last one I want to do. It’s covering another painting that’s superior to mine in every way.”
“I don’t understand. Why would you paint over a better painting with a copy of your wife’s work? Surely someone would notice?”
“Someone like Cora Barnes? A lovely woman who only sees the good in people? A woman I went to school with? A woman I dated?”
Maddie held her hand to her throat. Suzy’s mom and Nicholas Brack had been an item? How did Gran not know about that? This meeting was stretching her levels of credulity to the extreme.
“You need to talk to the Sheriff,” she managed to say.
He shook his head. “If I go anywhere near him or his deputies, one thing is sure, I’ll only do it once.”
“They’ve threatened you?”
“More than once. I had hoped that after I painted over a couple they would let me be. That I’d repaid their investment and more. It turned out to be wishful thinking. Once these people have their claws into you, there’s no hope of escape from them.”
He looked so depressed that Maddie couldn’t help a measure of pity for him, despite his crimes.
“The only thing I can think to do is tell Sheriff Tanner. I’ll do it on the quiet. I promise, he’ll be circumspect with who he tells.”
Mr. Brack gave a heavy sigh. “I don’t have anywhere else to turn, so I guess I’ll trust you. It seems like I’m destined for jail or winding up like Owen.”
“So, Owen was involved in this?”
“No, he wasn’t. Not in the way you mean. Owen’s estranged father, Bertram Langham, lives in Sunny Days retirement community. He’s my friend. Or, was. I don’t know if Bertram was coerced into handing me over or whether he was already in this foul business up to his neck. He had the connections with Smith and told him how desperate I was.”
“So, Mr. Smith approached you?”
“He came to my house, and offered me a way out. I had no idea he’s a predator for people like me in general. He takes pleasure in finding targets who are short of money, then he offers to insure or help sell things for them. This is the reason he makes it his business to befriend people living in retirement communities so he can ascertain who’s finding retirement tough..”
“Isn’t that helpful?” she pushed, pretty sure she knew where this story was taking her.
“It sounds almost respectable, I grant you. Except for the fact that he would cream most of the money off the top and the owners would get a fraction of the worth of something they might be genuinely fond of like an heirloom.”
“That’s not fair at all.”
He nodded, but held up a hand. “The bigger story, and where I fit in, is about the people who wouldn’t sell and caused him problems. Managing to wheedle himself inside their homes he sneakily took photos, then brought them to me to recreate. Once he had the copy he would break in and swap it for the original.”
“Wow. You copied them and he sold the originals?”
He nodded.
“That’s one heck of a scam. Surely they all didn’t go through Mrs. Barnes’s gallery?”
“Hardly any. I put my foot down about that, besides it was too close to home to be a safe way to do business.”
“I’m so glad. Cora will be upset as it is. She thinks you’re amazing.”
“I’d hate for her to know. I’m still very fond of her, but I guess she will eventually. She’s a wonderful woman, and I shouldn’t have allowed them to use her at all.”
“So, why have you decided to speak up now?”
“Mostly, it’s Owen’s death. He was a young man who did nothing wrong, apart from being born to the wrong man.”
She nodded making a note to ask him about Bertram Langham later. “Mostly? What else?”
“The picture you and the Sheriff found . . .”
“Wait, you know about that?”
“Cora told me. She was upset that my painting had been damaged.”
“Go on.”
“Underneath what is actually a copy of my late wife’s work, is a ‘Sarah Mansell’.” He saw her confusion and gave a weak smile. “Sarah Mansell is an artist who, over the last decade has sold each of her works for hundreds of thousands. She’s sought after and the painting belonged to Nora Beatty, who had no idea of its worth. She bought it years ago before Sarah became famous.”
“So, you’ve been helping them take money from people who can ill afford it?”
“I had to. Nora isn’t a nice person so I didn’t feel bad about that, but I do feel bad for most of the other’s. What they could have gotten for their pieces could have set them up for life.”
“Why do it then?”
“I’ve asked myself that question every day. To be honest, it didn’t take much to persuade me. My house has been in the family for generations, it would have been like losing a piece of myself.” He looked down at his worn loafers and his voice was barely aud
ible. “Then again, I think I already have.”
Maddie place a hand on his arm and he flinched.
“I’m also sorry for using Cora’s gallery to hide some paintings. It was Bertram’s idea to use those as leverage in case Smith and Chance double-crossed us, which they seemed about to do. We were right to think so, but wrong to involve anyone else.”
“There would have been people who could have helped you.”
“I don’t know who. I got bigheaded and couldn’t be bothered with the people I’d known from earlier days. I was insufferable and arrogant and people only put up with that for so long.”
Maddie hated to see a person so low, but right now talking to Ethan was more important than making Nicholas Brack feel better. She hoped Ethan would be able to help because this was turning into chaos. A very dangerous chaos.
Chapter Nineteen
Ethan couldn’t come by until that evening. He looked tired and Maddie told him to sit while she made him coffee and brought him a large slice of apple cake.
“Thanks, I need a pick me up, although seeing you has already lifted my spirits considerably.”
She smiled, dropped a kiss on his lips, then took a seat opposite him at the large table. “Why did they need lifting?”
He shrugged. “Oh, the usual neighbor disputes along the county line not to mention the murder. I wanted to come by last night but it was very late by the time I got back.”
“I’m happy for you to come by anytime, but I am glad to see you now. I have a lot to tell you.”
He put the coffee cup down, giving the cake a wistful glance. “I can’t leave you alone for five minutes, can I?”
Maddie stirred her apple and cranberry tea. “I’m pretty sure I’m not as alone as I’d like to think.”
“What do you mean?”
“Detective Jones seems to have filled the gap your absences have created and he wasn’t even hiding it.”
Ethan shrugged. “Most of the deputies were with me, so he offered to keep track of the Flynn women.”