Painted Beauty

by J. M. LeDuc

  “She knew where she was going,” Sin said immediately. “She never looked at the apartment numbers and didn’t hesitate when she knocked on the door.” Sin pointed to the blank board. “She appeared to announce herself calmly and the door was answered right away.”

  “By who?” Charlie said.

  “By Joel,” Sin answered.

  “There was no surprise or fear on her face when the door opened,” Garcia agreed. “It had to be Joel.”

  “So what does any of this tell you, because I’m still lost,” Evelyn chimed in.

  Sin wagged a manicured finger in the air. “The puzzle is still missing a few pieces. We’ve seen Miranda, George, and Ashley enter the building at different times, but we have not seen any of them leave.”

  Garcia smiled. “That was my first question after I viewed this footage. I asked if there was another entrance or exit for the building and I was told that the only way in was the front door, but there was a back door—a fire exit.”

  “And was there a camera on that door?”

  “There was a camera and an alarm. Both had been deactivated because so many of the residents had been using that door to go out back and smoke. The staff was tired of hearing the alarm go off, and since it was a fire exit and no one could get in through that door, someone decided to unplug the camera.”

  “That must have been how Miranda came and went after her first visit,” Sin proclaimed. “Joel was so scared of his mother he would do anything she asked, fearful of what her retribution would be if he didn’t. He must have let her in through the back door.”

  “But what about George and Ashley?” Fletcher asked.

  “I have one other video of Ashley leaving. Actually of Ashley and Joel leaving together,” Garcia said.

  Everyone watched as Ashley emerged from the apartment with a man. A man in Joel’s clothes. His hat was pulled down over his eyes and he walked staring at the ground.

  Sin stepped closer to the picture and studied the image. “I’ve had this all wrong,” she said in a barely audible tone.

  “What was that, Sinclair?” Charlie asked.

  Sin’s calm demeanor started to crack. “I got this all wrong!” she yelled.

  Grabbing her gun belt off the table, Sin stood and started for the door. Charlie was quick enough to block her exit.

  “Calm down and tell us what you’re talking about.”

  She looked into Charlie’s gray eyes and calmed herself. Taking a breath, turning away from the door, Sin began to pace the room.

  “Back when we caught Joel at Water’s Edge there were some things that didn’t make total sense. But everything happened so fast, I didn’t think them through.”

  “What things?” Fletcher said.

  “Ashley supposedly hadn’t seen Joel in close to twenty years. He had just killed two girls and tried to kill two other people, yet she went right up to him.” Sin looked up from the floor. “She wasn’t afraid. Just like she wasn’t afraid when she went to his apartment.”

  “Okay,” Fletcher nodded, “and now we have a good idea why. There is decent evidence that she has been in contact with him through the years. We’re not sure why, but we know she has been. What else?”

  “When she questioned Joel about what happened to George, do you remember his answer?”

  Fletcher and Garcia looked at each other, neither answering.

  “Not exactly,” Fletcher said.

  “He said, ‘you know what happened to him.’ And then when you, Fletch, asked him where George was, he responded, ‘she took him home with her.’ He was standing in front of the picture of Miranda’s house in Davenport, so I assumed he was talking about Miranda, but he wasn’t.” She buckled her gun belt a little tighter and eyed the room. “He was talking about Ashley.” Pointing to the picture, she said, “I don’t think that’s Joel.”

  Everyone continued to stare at Sin, not saying a word.

  “Think about the timing. Ashley went to see Joel after she couldn’t get me on the phone. After the bombing.”

  “After Miranda thought you were dead,” Fletcher said. “Joel told us that Miranda left as soon as she thought you were dead. She would have left before Ashley ever got to Joel’s.”

  “Both Joel and George would have done whatever Ashley wanted. I need to get Joel on the phone, and then it’s time we pay little Ms. Innocent a visit,” Sin sneered.

  CHAPTER 71

  At six the next morning, the team was sitting around a table in a diner at the corner of Federal Highway and Linton Boulevard in the south end of Delray Beach.

  “So we all agree,” Sin said. “I go in alone. I’ll be wired, so you will know everything that’s going on inside the gallery. You three will be outside. Fletcher and Garcia will block the back entrance and Charlie, since Ashley has never seen you, will cover the front. If she makes a run for it, we will have all exits covered.

  “I don’t see her as the violent type, but you know what they say about a caged animal, so watch yourselves and be ready for anything.”

  “Heed your own advice,” Charlie said as he wiped his mouth on a napkin. “By the way,” he smirked, “this is a napkin. It’s a much better choice than a sleeve.”

  Sin stood and tossed her napkin at Charlie. “Sick, my ass,” she snarled. “You’re just as ornery as ever.”

  At eight, Sin heard the door to the gallery open. She saw the lights turn on and heard the clicking of Ashley’s heels on the hardwood.

  Sin watched as the doorknob to Ashley’s office began to turn. Before Ashley even stepped in, her hand slid up the wall and flipped the light switch. She entered the room, tossed her keys on her glass-topped desk and sunk into her high-backed, leather chair. She laid her head back and closed her eyes.

  “You seem stressed for the beginning of the day,” Sin said.

  Ashley practically shot out of her chair when she heard Sin’s voice.

  Sin was standing on the far side of the room, behind where the door had opened.

  “Oh my god,” she said, her hand covering her heart, “you almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing here?” Ashley reached into her purse and grabbed her phone. “I’m calling the police.”

  “The PBSO already knows I’m here, but if you don’t believe me, be my guest.”

  Sin could sense Ashley’s frustration. She was used to being in control.

  “What the hell gives you the right to break into my gallery and harass me? If you don’t leave now, I’ll call my attorney and—”

  “Shut up and sit down, Ashley. I just want to talk.” Sin took a seat across from Ashley’s desk.

  Ashley leaned forward and reached for a small glass box and grabbed a cigarette before sitting. She lit a cigarette, leaned back in her chair, and crossed her legs. “You’d be stressed, too, if you arrived at work and someone scared the hell out of you.”

  “You have a point.”

  “So are we just going to chit-chat, or are you going to tell me why you’re here?”

  “I thought you’d like to know how the case ended.”

  Ashley brought the cigarette to her lips again and inhaled deeply. She blew the smoke out and went to flick the ash into the multi-colored, art-deco ashtray sitting on her desk. Sin noticed a slight tremble in her hand.

  “What are you talking about? I know how it ended. You caught Joel and—” Her eyes widened as she stubbed her cigarette out. “You found Miranda?”

  Sin didn’t say a word; all she offered was a compulsory head nod.

  “If you’re not talking, we’re not recording,” Garcia’s voice came through her earpiece.

  “We found Miranda in Iowa,” Sin said. “Just where Joel predicted she’d be.” Sin stood up and lit one of Ashley’s cigarettes. “By the time we arrived in Davenport she had already captured another young woman.”

  Genuine shock registered on Ashley’s face. “Did she, you know…did Miranda kill her?”

  Sin shook her head. “No, we were able to get to Miranda in time to
save the girl.”

  “And Miranda?”

  “Dead,” Sin said.

  Ashley looked relieved. “Thank god. It’s about time. Twenty years too late, but at least the bitch is dead.”

  Sin watched as the gears in Ashley’s head seemed to spin.

  “George? What about George?” Ashley demanded.

  “That’s one of the things I wanted to talk about.”

  Ashley fell back in her chair. “Oh my god, don’t tell me he’s dead.”

  “I was hoping you could tell me.”

  Ashley feigned an expression of shock. “What are you talking about?”

  Sin was tired of all the bullshit. “We know you’ve been visiting Joel for a number of years. We have proof that you first visited him five years ago. But the reason, that’s what was bothering me until I did a little research.”

  Ashley sat motionless as Sin spoke.

  “It’s amazing what information you can find on the internet.” Sin stood and looked around at the walls of Ashley’s office. All decorated in original Miranda Stokler artwork, and all with very high price tags. “One of the things I found was an article in The Southern Artist telling of a cache of original Stokler paintings that you found in an old warehouse owned by your mother.”

  “And that makes me guilty of what? Good luck?” Ashley said.

  A closed-lip grin rose on Sin’s face. “Here’s what I think happened. I think that business was good, real good, maybe even too good when you and George first opened the galleries.”

  “How can business be too good?” Ashley remarked in a flippant tone.

  “It’s hard to make money if you run out of stock,” Sin answered. “I noticed from public records and your website that as your mother’s original work depleted in supply, you tried to add other artists who had a similar style to Miranda in order to meet the demand.”

  “Big deal, any good business person running a gallery would have done the same thing.”

  “But they didn’t sell.” Sin glared at Ashley. “This all very coincidently happened just before you miraculously found a needed supply of original Stokler paintings.”

  Ashley opened her mouth to respond, but Sin held up a finger to silence her. “In my crazy imagination, here is what I think happened. In your desperation, you remembered Joel and the special connection he had with Miranda when you were younger. I think you went to visit him—a visit that coincides with the exact time frame you found the new paintings—and asked if he knew if there were any more of your mother’s paintings that you didn’t know about. When he said no, you offered him money. As the offer of money grew in size, Joel told you that he might know of a place where she stored some of her work. He said for you to meet him back at his apartment in a couple of days. When you returned, he handed you eight paintings and you handed him $40,000.” Sin leaned over the desk and snarled at Ashley. “How am I doing so far?”

  Ashley didn’t back down, but stared right back. “This is nothing but speculation.”

  Sin backed off and softened her gaze. “It would be, if not for the fact that I have Joel on tape stating everything I just said. He also said that you visited him six other times in the last four years. Each time there was an exchange of money for artwork.”

  “So what? Not that I’m saying any of this is true, but what if it is? There is nothing illegal about any of it.”

  Sin nodded. “Nope, nothing at all. You definitely cheated him on payment considering that you resold those paintings at a starting price of $50,000 a piece, but I suppose you could make a case for that just being good business on your part.

  “The problem I have is this: Did you know that Joel was painting the pictures and not Miranda?”

  “I had no idea! I found out who the real artist was at exactly the same time as you did.”

  “The other problem I have is George,” Sin said.

  “What about him? He was a benefactor of the deal I had with Joel. I sold half of what I got to him—”

  “For a hefty profit, I’m sure.”

  “And he resold them in his gallery for an even bigger profit. What’s your point?”

  “My point, Ashley, is that you have lost sight of the situation.”

  “What situation?” she yelled.

  “Where is George?” Sin yelled back. “You see, during my conversations with Joel, he told me that when you came to visit him a couple of days ago George was still with him in his apartment. Joel said that George was too afraid to leave on his own, fearing that Miranda was still around, and that you told him you would take George home. Joel even mentioned that he let George borrow some of his clothes. The problem is, he never returned home, did he?”

  Ashley threw up her arms and walked to the door. “This entire conversation is preposterous,” she said. “Your only proof is the rambling of a psychotic killer. So unless you have actual viable proof, I suggest you leave.”

  “Did you know there was a security camera located at the rear door of Joel’s apartment building?”

  “That had been disabled years ago.”

  Those were the words Sin was waiting to hear. Words that could incriminate Ashley.

  She pulled a set of handcuffs from her back pocket, her other hand resting on the pearl-grip of her revolver. “Ashley Stokler, you are under arrest for the kidnapping of George Stokler.”

  She had Ashley place her hands behind her back, cuffed her, frisked her, and led her out of the gallery.

  CHAPTER 72

  George’s body never did turn up and Ashley remained a cold-hearted bitch throughout the interrogation. Anthony Freitas turned out to be a damn good defense attorney. Experts could not agree on whom Ashley left Joel’s apartment with and the prosecution had nothing but the testimony of Joel. The case was quickly dismissed.

  Sin was in the Keys with Charlie when the call came.

  “I have some bad news,” Frank said.

  Sin cradled the phone to her ear as her hands were busy helping Charlie with the AT-17 Bobcat. “Tell me straight, Frank. You won’t be telling me anything I don’t already know.”

  “The charges were dropped.”

  Sin put the wrench down and held the phone with her grease-covered hand and growled her frustration.

  “Calm down, Sin.”

  “Fuck that, Frank. I’m pissed. The bitch knows what happened to George. She probably killed him, and I’m supposed to be calm? And what happens to George’s gallery now that he has disappeared?”

  A breath was taken at the end of the line. “Ashley takes it over. If he shows up, he collects the revenue; if not, she gets to keep it.”

  “God damn it, Frank.”

  “Look at all the good you did,” Frank said. “You brought the Painted Beauty Killer to justice, and you solved a forty-five-year-old case.”

  “Don’t placate me. You know that only makes me angry.”

  “I don’t like this anymore than you do, Sin, but my hands are tied.”

  Sin bit her lower lip as she paced the hangar. “What are you saying, Frank?”

  “I’m saying that this case is officially over. But,” Frank continued, “I do have a little bit of good news.”

  “Which is?”

  “Since the charges were dropped, if evidence comes to light, she can still be charged with kidnapping…among other things.”

  “Thanks, Frank. I’ll talk to you later.” Sin hung up the phone and looked at Charlie who had been listening to every word.

  “I don’t like that look in your eyes, Sinclair. What are you thinking?”

  La Perla Angel de la Muerte

  “Nothing,” she said. “I need to take a ride, clear my head.”

  Sin placed her reflective aviator sunglasses over her eyes, and blew a kiss to Charlie. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

  “A few days?”

  His words were drowned out by the rumble of the bike’s exhaust as Sin fishtailed her way down the access road.

  CHAPTER 73

  Three days
later, Sin met up with Fletcher and Garcia in the same diner where they ate the morning after the raid on the Academy. While they ate, they finalized a strategy for their mission.

  “You spoke to Frank and Charlie?” Fletcher asked. “They agreed?”

  “They agreed to do what I asked. Obtain the needed information.”

  Fletcher put his coffee mug down and shook his head. “Neither knows exactly what we’re planning?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Frank is going to be pissed.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  Garcia looked around at the retirees and business people eating their breakfasts. “Do you still wonder?” he said.

  “Wonder what?” Sin asked.

  “What it would be like to be them. To be normal.”

  Sin eyed the smiling couples and the haggard faces of those on their way to work. She then looked at Garcia and Fletcher, remembering the story about his wife. “No,” she said. “We all have a life to live; a purpose to fulfill. I figure we’re fulfilling ours.”

  Fletcher rose from the table, slapping some cash on top of the bill. “That’s too deep for this Aussie. What do you say we go finish this?”

  Sin and Garcia smiled as they stood from the booth and walked out into the morning sun.

  They each spent the day getting into their perspective locations and blending into their environments. By midnight, all the pieces were in place.

  “Check in,” Sin radioed.

  “Everything is calm,” Garcia reported. “Still have a few people roaming the area, but they are thinning out as we speak.”

  “Wait until everyone is gone,” Sin replied. “We have all night. No reason to be rash.”

  “Affirmative,” Garcia radioed.

  “Fletch?”

  “Everything here is about the same. She met a couple of friends for drinks and dinner and then headed straight home. There is a light on in her bedroom, but no sign of her leaving.”

  “Ten-four,” Sin said. “Everything here is still in full swing. This town shuts down late, but we knew that. As soon as the bars close at two a.m., I’m sure it will quiet down.”