A Dubious Delivery (A Seagrove Cozy Mystery Book 9)

by Leona Fox

  "And the Holocaust money? What was that about?" Lucy asked.

  Marnie had the grace to look shamefaced. "I thought Cy was the right age that maybe it would seem plausible to him. I should have just said you'd called and said his painting was waiting. But I thought Cy maybe needed some motivation? I was over-thinking it, I guess. I could have just asked him to pick it up for me, but I didn't want anyone to know it was mine. I'm sorry, Cy."

  “You shouldn’t have lied to me.” Cyrus narrowed his eyes.

  “But why is there such mystery behind the painting in the first place?” Betty tapped her chin. “Am I the only one who can’t make any sense of this?”

  “Roger sent me a note that said I needed to get the painting from your shop, but that I also had to be very careful with it,” Marnie said.

  “You have a note! Let’s see it,” Lucy said, waving a hand at her.

  Marnie pulled a paper from her purse. She held it out to Sadie. “I haven’t had time to figure it out.”

  Sadie unfolded the paper.

  6

  You need to pick up a painting at the Seagrove antique store. It’s a scene of Seagrove Bay. It’ll come in a shipment from Europe.

  It’s very important that you keep it safe.

  For Future reference, Clean the edges, by the Numbers.

  Be well!

  -- R

  “Maybe there is something underneath the painting?” Lucy suggested.

  Her eyes met Sadie’s. “What? It could happen. I’ve heard of that before.”

  “Yeah, sure, in spy movies.” Sadie rolled her eyes and sighed.

  “We could try taking off the paint,” Betty said. “Do you think turpentine would do it?”

  “Do we have to?” Sadie hated the idea of ruining the painting. It wasn’t as whimsical as Roger Orwin’s other paintings, but this one was starting to grow on her.

  Marnie shrugged. “It’s fine with me. Roger’s note didn’t say anything about the painting being worth anything.”

  “He did say to keep it safe, though,” Sadie said pursing her lips. “Maybe if we try a little around the edges? Isn’t that what the note says?”

  “There’s probably some turpentine in the garage,” Cyrus suggested and pointed at a door in the kitchen.

  Lucy looked around. “Oh, don’t everyone get up at once. Fine, I’ll go look.”

  “I can help you,” Betty said. She got up to follow Lucy, giving Sadie a bewildered look.

  Sadie focused on Marnie. “Do you talk to Roger often? I mean, now that he is out of the country.”

  “We did at first.” Marnie looked down at her hands.

  “Then I don’t know what happened. I hadn’t realized it, but when I got his note, I saw that it had been a few months since I’d heard from him.”

  “So why do you think he contacted you now?” Sadie asked. Marnie shrugged again, her face blank.

  Sadie sighed and rubbed a hand over her face.

  “Found it!” Betty announced coming back through the door, victoriously holding a rusty can up above her head.

  “I got the rags,” Lucy said. She waved them above her head copying Betty.

  “We should take this into the kitchen,” Sadie said, “you don’t want to ruin the carpet.”

  “Oh, good idea,” Marnie said.

  “Fine,” Lucy said and turned to walk back into the kitchen.

  It took a minute to cover the kitchen table with newspapers, followed by jostling until everyone could see. Betty wet a corner of the rag with solvent and rubbed it on a corner, everyone stood watching as the paint smeared and then lifted.

  “Oh, not the bird,” Sadie lamented.

  Marnie leaned forward. “Anything?”

  “Not yet.” Betty grimaced. “Should I keep going?”

  “You might as well.” Lucy waved a hand over the painting.

  “You’ve already ruined the bird. Maybe you should take off the bucket with the crab peeking out of it next.”

  Betty glared at her across the table. “Marnie, it’s your painting. What do you think?”

  “I don’t know! I guess keep going,” Marnie said with a frustrated sigh.

  Sadie screwed up her face as Betty took off the opposite corner.

  Betty stood up. “Nothing.”

  “What now?” Lucy asked Sadie.

  “Oh, now you want my opinion?” Sadie let out a long breath.

  She leaned over the table looking at the canvas where Betty had removed the paint. Her eyes kept going back to that ridiculously wide frame.

  “Give me the rag.”

  Betty re-wet the rag with turpentine and handed it to Sadie. Starting at the top corner, she began carefully removing the gilding from the frame.

  “Look!” Marnie practically yelled.

  “Well, look at that,” Cyrus said, leaning forward.

  Black lettering had begun appearing as the gold paint was wiped away.

  “Keep going,” Betty said. She picked up a new rag, applied turpentine to it and handed it to Sadie.

  “In for a penny, in for a dollar,” Sadie muttered.

  Using the new rag, she worked down the side of the frame and across the bottom, revealing more lettering as she went. A few minutes later the gold paint was gone, and they all stared at the frame.

  “Where are we supposed to start?” Marnie had a puzzled look on her face.

  “What did that note say?” Sadie asked.

  Betty picked up the note from the table and read it aloud.

  Sadie shook her head. “It still doesn’t make any sense to me.” She leaned over to look at the note.

  Lucy furrowed her eyebrows. “What are all of those capital letters doing in the middle of the sentence?”

  “Oh, I thought it was just the way he wrote. You know how artists can be.” Sadie couldn’t believe she had missed that.

  “Marnie, is that how he wrote normally?”

  Marnie took the note and looked at it for several minutes. Sadie glanced over at Lucy, who rolled her eyes, not that Sadie could blame her. That part of the note was all of fifteen words, Marnie’s lengthy perusal seemed absurd.

  “No, the capital letters are odd.” She turned the letter around and pointed to the paper.

  “Roger’s writing looks more like the first sentence.”

  Betty put her hands on the table. “Okay, so what do we have?”

  Lucy read the letter. “There are three phrases. For Future reference, Clean the edges, and by the Numbers.”

  “And the capitalized ones are future, clean and numbers,” Betty added.

  “Hmmm, future?” Sadie thought about what that might mean and came up empty.

  “Let’s come back to that one.”

  “The next one is clean. Clean the edges,” Lucy repeated.

  Sadie frowned. “Clean the edges. I guess that could refer to taking the paint off.”

  “Really? He used the word clean for paint removal? I don’t know.” Betty gave her a skeptical look.

  Lucy stood up. “Let me try something.”

  She disappeared into the kitchen only to reappear with the glass cleaner and some paper towels. She turned the painting over and sprayed the back of the frame with the cleaner, wiping it with the paper towel. She held up the paper towel to show gold paint.

  Lucy winced. “I guess we didn’t need the turpentine.”

  Sadie stared at the ceiling for a moment. “Alright, so we figured out clean. What is the last one?”

  Betty picked up the note. “By the Numbers, and numbers is the capitalized word.”

  “By the numbers. Hmmm,” she mumbled as she tried working it out.

  “There are numbers on the frame. One in each corner. If I go clockwise, we are looking at one, three, four and nine.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Marnie said, giving her an annoyed look. “You must have read it wrong.”

  “Read it wrong? There are four numbers.” Sadie lifted the frame so everyone could see it.

&
nbsp; “One, three, four and nine,” Lucy read out loud.

  “Yup,” Cyrus added.

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry,” Marnie sat leaned back against the counter.

  Sadie took a deep breath and counted to ten before she gave in to the impulse to repeatedly knock her head against the table.

  “So the numbers aren’t sequential.” Betty was logical again.

  “So they must stand for something. Any ideas?” Marnie and Cyrus both shook their heads.

  “Maybe it’s a number for a locker at the bus station,” Lucy suggested.

  Sadie squinted, trying to visualize the bus station. “Do we even have lockers at the bus station?”

  “It wouldn’t really matter. We would need a key to get into a locker,” Betty told them.

  “One, three, four, nine,” Sadie repeated quietly.

  The numbers were running through her mind in a continuous stream. There was something about them that seemed familiar. Sadie suddenly snapped her fingers.

  “What?” Marnie asked.

  Sadie turned to Cyrus. “What is the address number here?”

  “3419, why?” He asked.

  Sadie pointed to the corners. “Three, four, one and nine.”

  “By George, I think she’s got it,” Lucy said.

  7

  “So what does it say for number three?” Betty asked, looking over Sadie’s shoulder.

  Sadie looked at the corner of the frame. “Huh,” she said. “Cyrus, Door and the number thirty in parentheses.”

  “What does that mean?” Marnie asked standing up to look at the frame.

  “Well, it says Cyrus’ door.” Lucy walked to the front door. She looked around the doorframe and then opened the door.

  Sadie followed, bringing the frame with her. Lucy was standing on the front porch scanning the front of the house.

  “I don’t see anything with a thirty on it.”

  “How many paces do you think it is from here to the street?” Sadie asked.

  Lucy shrugged and walked back to the door. “Let’s find out.”

  She walked slowly taking even strides as she followed the path to the street. She called out, “thirty-eight.”

  “What is she doing?” Marnie asked from the door.

  “Testing the theory that the thirty on the frame may be the number of paces from Cyrus’ door to the street.”

  “She said thirty-eight, though,” Betty pointed out.

  “True,” Sadie admitted. “Marnie, how tall is Roger?”

  “I don’t know six foot or so. Why?” Marnie answered.

  “I think since he is taller than Lucy he probably would have a longer stride,” Sadie thought out loud.

  “Which would account for the extra steps,” Marnie finished.

  “It’s possible,” Sadie said, scanning the yard for something that might be a clue. Nothing seemed out of place.

  “So to the street?” Betty asked.

  Sadie shrugged. “I suppose so.”

  “What about Cy?” Marnie asked pointing a thumb over her shoulder at the house.

  “I don’t know where this will take us,” Sadie said, remembering how unsteady he had been at the shop.

  “It’s probably best he stays here. Do you think he will agree to that?”

  “I’ll go talk to him,” Marnie said.

  Curious, Sadie walked to the door to keep an eye on Marnie.

  “Cy?” Marnie said, and then quietly said, “Oh.”

  She pulled a throw blanket off of the other chair, covered him up and walked quietly to the door. Sadie stepped back and Marnie joined her on the porch shutting the door behind him.

  “He fell asleep,” Marnie told her. “I didn’t want to wake him just to say that I thought he should stay here.”

  Sadie nodded. “I agree.”

  They began walking out to the street. Sadie glanced over at her. “I saw you in there with him. You were very sweet.”

  “I like Cy. He’s a sweet guy.”

  “How did he get that bump on the back of his head?”

  Marnie blew out a breath. “Cy is prone to dizzy spells. He loses his balance a lot. The other day he fell backward and hit the back of his head on the kitchen counter.”

  “Hmmm, Cyrus didn’t say anything to us about dizzy spells,” Sadie told her.

  “Yeah, Cy doesn’t like to admit he might need help once in a while. He acts like he is fine. If he’d gone to his regular doctor instead of the emergency room Dr. Abrams would have mentioned it, I am sure.”

  Sadie remembered he had been pretty obstinate in the shop. “Cyrus does seem a little cranky when his health is questioned.” Even so, Sadie made a mental note to tell Zack to check with Cyrus’ doctor about his dizzy spells.

  Marnie grimaced. “Cranky is kind of an understatement.”

  They joined Lucy and Betty on the sidewalk.

  Betty pointed to the frame. “Where to now?”

  Sadie held up the frame. “Number four, Artist Corner.”

  “That’s it?” Lucy asked.

  “Maybe it means the co-op,” Marnie suggested.

  “Could be,” Sadie replied. “The shop is on the corner.”

  Betty looked down the street. “Should we go?”

  A few minutes later they were standing on the corner just outside the Artist Co-op.

  “Alright, on to number one. This clue is quite different. It’s a drawing rather than words.”

  At first, Sadie thought it was a snake the way the thin lines curled down the side, but the secondary lines that crossed the longer ones made her think otherwise.

  “What do you guys think?” They all crowded around Sadie to get a better look at the frame.

  Lucy looked at Marnie. “Does any of it makes sense to you?”

  “No, not at all.” She shook her head and said, “I am so frustrated.”

  Betty moved behind Sadie and scanned the rest of the street. “Oh! It’s the train tracks.”

  “Thank God.” Lucy shook her head. “I was totally stumped.”

  “There’s an arrow. Here.” Sadie pointed to a curve in the track drawing. “Where do you think it’s pointing?”

  “What’s that there?” Marnie asked, indicating a dark smudge on the outer edge of the track.

  “Not sure.” Lucy made a face. “I think the turpentine may have erased part of it.”

  “You know, I bet that’s supposed to be the Artist Co-op,” Sadie said. “Look at how the train track curves here and then further down here.”

  Lucy tapped the frame. “So do we go to the train tracks or to the Artist Co-op?”

  They all fell silent, their gazes moving from the frame to the train tracks down the street.

  “Either way, we have to go to the tracks,” Betty pointed out.

  They got to the spot at the train tracks they thought the arrow pointed to and looked around.

  “What’s the last clue?”

  “Number nine has a number and a drawing.” Sadie glanced around before adding, “three, zero, five, and this sort of half-oval design.”

  “Three, zero, five?” Marnie asked.

  “Yes, does that mean something to you?” Lucy asked.

  “It does,” Marnie chewed on her lip. “I just can’t remember why. Give me a minute to think about it.”

  “Could it be a studio number?”

  “Yes!” Marnie nearly shouted, her eyes excited. “That was Roger’s studio.”

  “I think the Artist Co-op is where we need to be,” Betty said.

  “I agree,” Sadie said, leading them all into the building.

  Lucy frowned. “He’s been gone for several months. Do you know if it’s been rented out?”

  Betty was standing in front of a board with a list of artists and their studio numbers. “It doesn’t look like it,” Betty said, running down the list of residents.

  “Mary at the co-op said it was paid through the end of the year,” Sadie said. “Let’s check it out.”

  They all tromped u
p the stairs, finding the studio quickly. Sadie had been slightly worried the door would be locked, but it was half-open when they got there.

  Lucy pushed the door open and peered around the room before looking back to say, “All clear.”

  Betty gave her a curious look. “What were you expecting?”

  “I don’t know.” Lucy shrugged. “The door was hanging open, it looked a little suspicious.”

  Marnie walked into the studio. Compared to others Sadie had seen, this one was pretty bare. There were a few paintbrushes scattered on top of a work table in the middle of the room. An easel stood in the corner with a small table next to it. The walls were painted white to maximize the light coming through the large windows.

  “Look at that.”

  Lucy pointed to a large canvas hanging on the wall. It was a snowy scene with the brilliant colors of the northern lights illuminating the night sky. It was one of many pieces that hung on the walls.

  Marnie smiled. “Roger likes all kinds of art and was very supportive of the different artists here. He enjoyed decorating his studio with other artists’ pieces.”

  Sadie couldn’t help but remember Sam Cone’s forgery accusations. Not that the art on the walls here was similar in any way to what she had seen of Roger’s work at the co-op. The art was a diverse representation of several disciplines. There was a modern geometric painting and a few charcoal sketches on the walls and a shelf in the corner held a stylized statue of a horse rearing up on its hind legs.

  Sadie nudged Lucy. “What about that?” Pointing up to a sculptured sconce almost in the shape of a shell that hung high on the wall.

  “Oh, I like it, very pretty,” Lucy said, nodding.

  Sadie tapped the frame. “I think it might be our drawing.”

  “What?” Marnie asked from the corner with the easel. “Did you find something?”

  Before Sadie could answer they heard footsteps in the hallway. They all froze, staring at the open door. Sadie let out a relieved breath when Zack appeared in the doorway.

  “There you are,” he said strolling into the studio.

  “You were looking for me?” Sadie blinked.

  “Yes. Mr. Dumville called and said four crazy women had run off with his painting.”

  Marnie let out a frustrated groan. “It’s not his painting. It belongs to me.”