I hugged him back, a little longer than usual. “Stay safe,” I said, before calling out a good-bye to Ethan and leaving the house.
I wouldn’t share my brother’s mission with anyone yet, except Richard. But I would talk to someone who might have more information.
Fred Nash, I thought, you’d better be ready to tell me the truth. Especially if you want me to support your romantic pursuit of my best friend.
Chapter Twenty-One
I didn’t know where Fred was staying but managed to get his phone number from Sunny by claiming that I wanted to talk to him about alleviating the problems between Hugh and my aunt.
That was only a partial lie—I did want to mention something to him about encouraging Hugh to confess the entire truth to Aunt Lydia, but of course I also wanted to quiz him about his cooperation with Scott and other members of the task force.
Fred agreed to meet with me after work a few days later, on Friday. I suggested that he come into the library right before we closed at five. That way we could talk in private after I cleared and locked up the building. Fortunately, Sunny wasn’t working at the library that day, and Samantha had also asked for the afternoon off. I told Fred to slip into the staff lounge and lock the door behind him right before we closed so he wouldn’t be ushered out of the building with the rest of the patrons.
After encouraging Denise, the only volunteer working on Friday afternoon, to leave immediately after closing time, I knocked on the door of the staff lounge.
“All clear?” Fred asked, as he cracked open the door.
“Everyone’s out.” I led the way back to the main part of the building. “We can use the reading area to talk, if that’s okay with you.”
“Whatever you think best.” Fred followed me to one of the round tables. As he sat down, he looked me over, his dark eyes filled with curiosity. “I had no idea you were so into spy-versus-spy techniques. Are you sure you’re really a librarian?”
“Are you sure you’re really just helping Hugh Chen investigate art crimes?” I replied, as I plopped down in a chair across the table from him.
Fred’s dark skin didn’t betray a blush, but he shifted on his wooden chair, signaling that my barb had hit home. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Oh, come on. I know you’re just using Hugh’s investigation as a cover.”
Leaning back in his chair, Fred studied me for a moment before answering. “Someone told you this? Let me guess—your brother? He really should know better.”
“He knew I wouldn’t say anything to anyone, and I won’t.” I leaned forward, crossing my arms on the table. “You’re the exception, because I know you’re actually working with Scott. Or with people on the same task force, anyway.”
“It’s true, I’m collaborating with his team. But I’m also helping Hugh. The two things aren’t mutually exclusive. They’re just two different jobs that happen to overlap.” Fred’s brown eyes narrowed. “I’m still an independent investigator, and I need the work.”
“I’m sure that’s true.” I sat back and fixed my gaze on Fred’s face. I found it curious that he was willing to talk to me so frankly but suspected that he was hoping to obtain some reciprocal information from me, given my connection to both Scott and Kurt. “Honestly, I thought you might have a personal interest. Tracking down someone called Esmerelda, perhaps?”
The change in Fred’s expression was swift and devasting. “How did you hear about that? If Scott’s sharing that much, I need to have a long talk with him.” The fury in Fred’s voice told me that talking was not all he had in mind.
I swept my hand through the air. “No need to go after Scott. I’d already heard that name last fall, during another murder investigation that I was unfortunately embroiled in.”
“Then you know this involves a drug operation.”
“I do. I also know that Esmerelda may or may not be the same person who was the leader of the drug cartel that infiltrated your previous task force and set up an ambush.” I cleared my throat. “Causing you serious injury and killing your partner.”
“It’s the same person, all right.” Fred rubbed his forehead with one hand. “That much I know.”
“Really? Scott wasn’t sure if it was the same woman who’d run the gang back in the sixties and seventies or just a code name used by all their leaders over the years.”
Fred’s lips twitched into a grim smile. “Why? Because she’d be too old now? Trust me, that never stopped any of these criminals. They just hire muscle to do their dirty work and stay safe in their mansions, counting their money. Besides, Esmerelda was young in the early to mid-sixties. Barely twenty, from what I’ve learned. So she’d only be in her seventies now. Not too old to run a drug crew that has plenty of younger lieutenants to do the heavy lifting.”
“How has she evaded capture all this time?”
“No one knows. She’s clever, and not one to live a flashy lifestyle. Stays incognito, actually.” Fred studied me for a moment. “You do know that your friend Kurt Kendrick was also active in the drug scene back in the day?”
“I believe he left that behind when he moved into dealing art instead.”
“He did, as far as I can tell. Not to say all his art dealings are on the level, but that’s another matter.” Fred relaxed his tensed shoulders. “I’m also helping Hugh look into Kendrick’s business dealings, you know.”
“And have you found anything you can use against him?”
“No.” Fred offered me a rueful smile. “He’s even cleverer than Esmerelda, if that’s possible. But Hugh is convinced that we’ll uncover something sooner or later.”
“Hugh’s obsessed, and that isn’t good. At least not as far as his relationship with my aunt is concerned.”
Fred’s expression softened. “I’ve told him as much. Especially after meeting Lydia and realizing how much he cares for her, and she him. As a sadly single guy myself, I believe that kind of relationship isn’t something Hugh should throw away on a wild-goose chase.”
But maybe not so very single for long, I thought as I examined Fred’s handsome face and considered his obvious interest in Sunny. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to indict Kurt?”
“Probably not. The Kelmscott Chaucer was a good lead, but even with that, we haven’t found any definitive proof of wrongdoing. Although”—Fred pressed his hands against the tabletop—“I did uncover an interesting connection between Kendrick and another sale of one of those Chaucer books.”
I decided I might as well share what I knew. Perhaps Fred would be willing to offer me more information in exchange for my honesty. “Something to do with Adele Tourneau?”
Fred’s eyebrows drew together. “You are well informed.”
I shrugged. “I’m a pretty good researcher, among other things.”
“I see Scott isn’t the only one in the family with skills.” Fred slid his chair to the side so he could stretch out his legs. “Anyway, since you’ve already made the connection—Hugh and I believe Kendrick was involved in the sale of a copy of a Kelmscott Press edition of Chaucer’s works to Adele Tourneau’s father, using Oscar Selvaggio as a middleman. But we can’t find the evidence to prove it.”
And you won’t, I thought, arranging my expression into a mask of surprise. “Really? I knew she was devastated when her father died and blamed Selvaggio, saying that he’d knowingly sold her dad a stolen copy of the book. She and her siblings believed the subsequent scandal brought on his heart attack. That much was in the news reports I researched.”
“Right, but what wasn’t in those reports was any mention of Kendrick, or the other thing that’s added fuel to Hugh’s fire.”
“Which was?”
“The fact that Adele Tourneau, or Maria Brentwood, as she was known then, made an attempt to kill Oscar Selvaggio not long after the courts dismissed her lawsuit against him.”
I shoved my chair back and jumped to my feet. “What? I can’t believe that.”
“Sadly, it’s true.
She accosted him at his hotel room, threatening to exact revenge. The authorities found a small but loaded pistol in her purse. It was hushed up at the time, of course. Ms. Tourneau, or at least her family, had friends in high places, and enough money to pay for lawyers who kept her from being charged. She had some psychiatric counseling instead, or so I heard.” Fred shrugged. “You know how it is—the rich rarely pay the price for their actions, while the poor are incarcerated for minor crimes.”
I paced the reading room, my mind spinning with this new information. “But how is this related to Kurt Kendrick? You said this information gave Hugh hope he could catch Kurt in some wrongdoing.”
“Apparently, Kendrick helped to pay for some of the legal expenses in Ms. Tourneau’s case. Anonymously at the time, but Hugh found someone who was able to provide enough info for me to track the source of a particular check back to one of Kendrick’s business interests.”
I stared out the library’s tall front windows, keeping my back to Fred. I didn’t want him to see my face and read the truth in my expression. I knew why Kurt had aided Adele—to protect Andrew as well as himself.
But Oscar Selvaggio probably knew that too. He protected Andrew because Kurt bribed him to do so. Perhaps, with the Kelmscott Chaucer back on the market, he thought he could use this old information as a weapon. He may have been trying to force Kurt to pass on buying the book so he could acquire it himself.
Blackmail. Which was a pretty good motive for murder. I turned around to meet Fred’s inquisitive stare. “I’m not sure how that would connect Mr. Kendrick to any wrongdoing. Anonymously helping someone is not a crime.”
Fred’s gaze raked over my face. “No, but it might be a thread that links him to the original sale of stolen goods. But”—he lifted his hands in a dismissive gesture—“that’s Hugh’s theory, not mine. Honestly, I don’t think there’s anything to it. Kendrick was known to be an aficionado of the arts and had been seen attending dance performances that featured Ms. Tourneau. I think he may have had a little crush on her or something. He could’ve hoped to gain her affections by helping her financially.”
“Not if it was anonymous.” I tipped my head as I surveyed Fred, wondering if his own burgeoning interest in my best friend was coloring his thoughts. “Although I suppose Kurt could’ve secretly informed Adele about his financial assistance in her legal troubles.”
I knew this was untrue but didn’t want to share my belief about what had actually motivated Kurt. No use dragging my uncle, and by extension my aunt, into this story.
“Possibly.” Fred stood up to face me. “I guess you’ve realized that I have more than a little interest in your best friend.”
I widened my eyes. “Really? I couldn’t tell. I mean, I’m sure no one’s noticed that.”
Fred’s serious expression morphed into a grin. “Okay, okay, I guess I deserve the sarcasm. The thing is, I do really like Sunny. I know we’ve only just met, but there’s this spark between us I haven’t felt in a long time. The thing is …”
I thought of my brother’s problems related to the unpredictability of his job. “You can’t promise anything because you never know where your career will take you?”
“Something like that.” Fred ran his fingers through his short black hair. “I’m not really looking to getting married or anything. Not anytime soon, anyway.”
My lips curved into a smile. “Which is actually a factor in your favor. I don’t know if Sunny’s mentioned it yet or not, but she isn’t eager to get married either.”
“No, she hasn’t said anything about that. Of course, come to think of it, she doesn’t talk about long-term relationship stuff at all.” Fred’s expression brightened. “That’s a refreshing change, you know. Being in my late thirties, the topic usually crops up pretty quick. With the other women I’ve dated, I mean.”
“Well, you’re in luck. Sunny’s likely to bolt if she thinks a guy is determined to tie her down. She’s a free spirit. Loyal to a fault, but not really interested in a typical romantic relationship. One leading to marriage, I mean.” I pointed my forefinger at him. “In fact, it will probably end up that you’ll be the one who wants a more serious relationship. So be prepared.”
Fred grinned. “I’m willing to take that chance.”
“Okay, but don’t say you weren’t warned. Now, since we’ve covered the important stuff, including Sunny, I think it’s time for me to head home. I don’t want my aunt to think I’ve gone missing along with Scott.”
“You can at least reassure her that he’s okay. I suspect from what you said earlier that you’ve seen him?” Fred turned and strolled toward the stacks.
“Yes, and he told me I could let Aunt Lydia and my parents know that he’s safe and sound. Which I already did, of course. Wait”—I crossed my arms over my chest—“there is one more thing. Scott wouldn’t tell me, but maybe you aren’t under the same restrictions.”
“What’s that?” Fred paused and glanced back at me over his shoulder.
“Scott’s real target. He told me he had to go into hiding because his superiors were afraid his cover might’ve been blown. But even though he was keeping tabs on Selvaggio, apparently the art dealer wasn’t actually his focus. Neither was Kurt Kendrick. Which makes me wonder who it was.”
Fred turned around and fixed me with a puzzled expression. “I thought it was Selvaggio. Something to do with his connection to Esmerelda.”
“Oscar Selvaggio had dealings with a notorious criminal?”
“Not to buy or sell drugs.” Fred frowned. “But he wasn’t above acquiring and selling art to someone who had plenty of cash, no matter where their money came from.”
I dropped my arms to my sides. “I’m surprised a drug dealer would be such an avid art collector.”
“Well, I don’t know if Esmerelda really cares about art. I think it’s probably more the investment aspect that interests her. Anyway, the art angle was something Hugh uncovered on another investigation, and one reason why I was encouraged to work with him in addition to secretly aiding the task force. We hoped Hugh’s knowledge of the art world would benefit our investigation.”
“Talk about a tangled web,” I said, moving forward to join him in the aisle. “It seems most of the people on this task force are using everyone else for their own purposes.”
“It happens.” Fred’s eyes glinted. “It shouldn’t, but everyone wants the glory associated with bringing down a high-value criminal. Even though we’re all supposed to be working together …”
“You’re actually rivals?” I looked him up and down. “Maybe you’d better talk to Hugh and let him know what’s really going on. I don’t think you want him to find out what you’re up to before you’ve had a chance to explain.”
“That’s actually a good idea,” Fred said. “Perhaps I can even nudge him to do the same thing with your aunt.”
“I’d appreciate that, and so will Aunt Lydia, even if she’ll never admit it.” I gave Fred a knowing look. “And it wouldn’t hurt your relationship with Sunny either.”
Fred nodded before following me to the back door of the library. As we stepped out into the parking lot, I turned to him and laid a hand on his arm. “I wouldn’t give up on Sunny, by the way. I can tell she really likes you.”
Flashing me a brilliant smile, Fred strode off toward his car.
I stared after him as he drove off, thinking that I liked him too. But I was still worried that his obsession with the Esmerelda case, while understandable, might prove a stumbling block to his relationship with Sunny.
She wasn’t one to dwell on the past. Forgive and forget was more her style.
I didn’t think the same could be said about Fred Nash.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Aunt Lydia had planned a dinner party for the following evening, which was Saturday, a week before the wedding—combining the meal with opening the wedding gifts Richard and I had already received. My parents had arrived early Saturday afternoon, along with Walt and
Zelda, Sunny, and Karla. Aunt Lydia had invited Jim and Fiona Muir, but they’d declined, claiming that Jim had some sort of business event they couldn’t miss.
“Not that I’m too upset about that turn of events,” Aunt Lydia said, as she pulled a steaming casserole dish from the oven and set it on top of the stove.
“That smells great,” I said, breathing in the scent of potatoes mingled with cheese. “Is it your lovely potatoes au gratin?”
“Yes. I made it especially for your dad. You know how he loves it.”
“Do I ever. He could probably finish off half that dish by himself.”
“It’s also something Sunny can eat, although I have plenty of other vegetarian options.” Aunt Lydia swept her oven mitt–encased hand through the air, indicating the salad, curried carrots, and steamed broccoli. “I just hope she won’t miss not having a veggie protein dish. I’m afraid I didn’t get around to that.”
“She’ll be fine. As long as she has all these side dishes, she won’t care.” I snitched a piece of raw carrot from the salad bowl.
Aunt Lydia shot me a sharp look as she stripped of the mitts. “Hands off. We’ll be serving in just a minute.” She glanced toward the archway that led to the hall. “Is Richard here yet? I didn’t hear him come in.”
“He’s in the dining room, chatting with Mom and Dad and the others.” I turned at the sound of the front door opening. “Would that be Hugh?”
“Not sure if he’s coming or not.” Aunt Lydia vigorously tossed the salad with a pair of wooden tongs. “He was invited a while back, but with the way things have been between us …”
“Nonsense. I can’t believe he’d skip one of your dinners,” I said as I stepped into the hall.
It wasn’t Hugh.
“Hello, sis.” Scott set down a duffle bag near the foot of the stairs before striding forward to give me a hug. “I’m cleared to be out in public again,” he added as he released me.
I popped him in the shoulder with my fist. “Just in time to enjoy one of Aunt Lydia’s feasts.”
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