Art of Deception

by Brenda Donelan

  “I know Bridget didn’t steal anything. The question is, why would she confess to a crime she didn’t commit? What else did you and Bridget discuss?” asked Marlee, eager to find out any other details about Bridget’s arrest.

  “Not much, really. She said she was scared about being in jail, but that no one had tried to harm her since she’d been there. Bridget was upset that her career is probably over, since she won’t be able to teach with a felony conviction on her record. And she’s worried about spending the next several years in prison, but said she knew the consequences when she committed the theft.” Kathleen seemed resigned to Bridget’s upcoming incarceration.

  “This is bullshit! Did Bridget say why she supposedly stole the urn?”

  “No, she never offered up an explanation. She was pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing. Maybe her lawyer told her to keep her comments to a minimum,” Kathleen suggested.

  “Yeah, she was probably told not to talk about her case at all. That’s the usual spiel attorneys give their clients. And it’s actually pretty good advice. Did Bridget know when her next court hearing is? Does her lawyer think she can get out soon?” Marlee still stumbled over her questions, overcome with emotion, but also afraid she would forget to ask Kathleen something and have to wait until tomorrow to follow up with her.

  “Oh, that’s the good news. She said her lawyer was going to contact me about being a third part of something.”

  “Third-party custodian. That means Bridget would stay at your home, and you would have to report any violations of her bond to the court.” Marlee was in lecture mode again and took a deep breath to espouse on the pros and cons of third party custody.

  Kathleen beat her to the punch and launched her own series of questions. “So if Bridget does something wrong does that mean I’ll go to jail? And if she takes off and leaves the country will I lose my house and all my savings?”

  “You’re only in trouble if Bridget does something to violate her bond, and you knew about it but didn’t report it. If she did something without your knowledge, then there’s no way you can be held accountable. I don’t think any of your assets can be attached to Bridget’s bond. If you lie for her or try to smuggle her out of the country, then you could be arrested and punished. Most people who agree to be third-party custodians don’t have any problem with it.”

  “I don’t think Bridget will do anything illegal, so it should be fine,” Kathleen said in a self-soothing tone. “You said you’ve been working on Bridget’s case today. What’s going on?”

  Marlee updated Kathleen on the meeting with Abby, the visit with her own attorney, entering Bridget’s apartment, and going over documents with Hector. “I’m not sure if any of this will add up to anything, but it’s worth a try. There’s no way Bridget stole the urn. She was either railroaded by the police, set up by someone, or she’s covering for another person. Bridget’s really smart, but she’s also too trusting.”

  “You’re right. She is kind of naïve, but in a lovable way,” Kathleen said. “I’ll let you know what I find out about the third-party custodian thing.”

  “Please let me know as soon as you can. If you find out about the next hearing, let me know because I’d like to be there.” Marlee ended the conversation with her friend and returned to the dining room table. She relayed her conversation to Hector.

  “Why do you think Bridget confessed? What’s her motivation?” Hector asked.

  “Bridget wouldn’t steal something even if she was in a tight financial situation. She’s a helper and might sacrifice herself to help someone else, especially if she believed in them or their cause. I’m starting to move away from my original theory, which was Bridget was tricked by the police. I think she really did confess, but did it to avoid a greater harm for someone.”

  “Who would she sacrifice herself for at Marymount College or in Elmwood?” It was time for another stretch break, and Hector was on his feet doing some push-ups against the wall.

  “Me. Or any of the women from the Supper Club. She would also sacrifice herself for some of her students, although I can’t name any of them. I don’t know that’s she’s particularly close with any of her colleagues at Marymount, but it could be one of them she’s covering for. When Bridget believes in something or someone, she commits one hundred per cent. There’s no halfway with my cousin!” Marlee smiled as she recalled Bridget’s loyalty being one of her best traits.

  “So why would she need to cover for someone? You didn’t do it. Did you?” Hector asked with a grin as he sat down and pulled his chair close to the table, ready to start another round of scrutinizing paperwork.

  “Very funny. Of course I didn’t have anything to do with it. I wouldn’t take off with some crusty old antique like that. If I saw it at a yard sale, I’d assume it was junk.” Marlee’s appreciation for anything from the art world was limited. She wished she’d spent more time paying attention in her introductory art class twenty years ago, but she was too busy passing notes, day dreaming, and planning her next social engagement.

  “Why would Bridget cover for the real thief?”

  “Loyalty. She might think the person responsible did it for a good reason. Bridget might have actually taken it to avoid a worse consequence than being arrested.” Marlee said.

  “Worse than arrest? Like what?” Hector queried.

  “Maybe Bridget was forced to steal it and hide it or else she would be murdered.” As Marlee spoke these words, she realized how far-fetched this theory sounded.

  “Well, that’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?” Hector suppressed a laugh as he thought about an art heist as a way to avoid death in the small town of Elmwood, South Dakota.

  “Probably, but I’m just throwing out ideas. Some are better than others. What if one of her students stole the urn, and Bridget hid it and was planning to return it and save her student from incarceration?”

  “Hey, I know a lot of professors really like some of their students, but I don’t think many would go away to prison for them. Do you?”

  “No.” Marlee rolled her eyes and grimaced, thinking of some of her more troublesome students who would likely be guests of the state prison system one day. “I have several students that I think the world of, but I wouldn’t sacrifice my freedom and my career for them if they committed a felony.”

  “Maybe Bridget got herself into some other type of trouble and she was blackmailed into this theft. Can you think of anything at all that she might have gotten pulled into, even unwittingly?” Hector asked.

  “I can’t think of anything. She’s a sharp gal, so I don’t see her falling for just any old scheme. You know what, Hector? Last night my friends and I put together a crime chart. Let’s look at it together and see what conclusions you draw from it.”

  Hector shrugged and raised his eyebrows. “Sure, why not? It’s worth a try.”

  Marlee cleared a space on the table and placed the poster board before the detective. She moved her chair to sit on the same side of the table so they could both view the chart upright.

  Hector burst into laughter and kept it up until Marlee started to get irritated. “What’s your problem?” she asked, giving him the stink eye.

  “Well, for starters your crime chart lists Bridget, you, and the other ladies from the Supper Club as the possible suspects. That’s it. Do you mean to tell me that a group of PhDs got together to brainstorm this case, and the only possible perpetrators they could think of were themselves?” Hector continued laughing, taking off his glasses to wipe the tears from his eyes.

  “We didn’t have any information last night so we just based our possible suspects on those who had a key to my house or knew the location of my spare key. That included the Supper Club and Bridget. Now we have a whole host of other people to add.” Marlee sat upright and defended herself against further ridicule from Hector.

  “So who else can we add?”

  Marlee paused for a minute, thinking of those who had access to the urn or Marlee’s ho
use. “Abby is Bridget’s student assistant, and she had access to documents and maybe even Bridget’s office. I don’t know if she was ever around the urn unsupervised,” Marlee said.

  “Is there anyone else at Marymount who could access it?” Hector asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m sure there were other professors in the department that could have some unrestricted access. There may even be students who assisted other professors that had cause to be near the urn. Another thing I was thinking of was the insurance money. The owner surely had it insured for the full value, so he would be getting a huge settlement if the urn was not recovered,” Marlee surmised.

  “Here’s something I’ve been wondering about; how long was the urn missing, and why wasn’t this public knowledge?” Hector asked. “It still hasn’t been broadcast on the radio or TV, at least not that I know of.”

  “I don’t think anyone outside of law enforcement knows about the theft. Abby didn’t seem to have any clue that it had been stolen. She hadn’t even realized that Bridget was absent from campus today.”

  “Normally this would be big, big news. I don’t know why the PD is keeping it so hush-hush. I’ll ask around tomorrow and see what I can find out.” Hector stated.

  “You said you were here on a case. What are you working on?” Marlee asked.

  “That was sort of a lie. Krause from the PD called me and said you were in some hot water. He and I’ve known each other for years. He knew you and I… well, he knew to call me.” Hector looked at the floor, a bit sheepish.

  “You drove over 150 miles just to help me with this? And to help Bridget?” Marlee was dumbstruck. It never occurred to her that Hector made the trek to Elmwood solely to help her stay out of jail and to clear her cousin’s name. “That’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. Thank you.”

  “I had some vacation days that I needed to use, so it’s no big deal.” Hector shrugged off the compliments and started digging through piles of papers again. “Let’s get back to work. We need to keep you out of jail. You wouldn’t look good in orange.”

  Marlee smiled and moved her chair back across from Hector. “Do you want more coffee?”

  “God, no. I’m ready to jog around the moon the way it is.”

  “How about a beer?” Marlee was ready for a bit of a downer after all the adrenaline and caffeine from the day.

  “Yes! Bring it on,” Hector said, making eye contact now that he was over his embarrassment.

  Marlee returned with two ice cold Bud Light bottles and placed them on the table. “Sorry, I don’t have any of that fancypants beer you drink. This is all I have, because it’s my favorite.”

  Hector smiled and they clinked bottles in a toast as they went back to work. Marlee looked at the crime chart and jotted down Abby’s name, Other Student Assistants, and then Marymount Colleagues. Since she didn’t know their names, she identified them by their roles. Also added to the list was Conrad Thayer, the owner of the expensive antique urn.

  “You know,” Marlee began, “everyone with Yellow Tail Security is a suspect, as is anyone else involved in security, either with the campus or with the museum collections.”

  “That could be a lot of people. Twenty or more, depending on how many museums are involved and how many guards each institution sent. How do you plan to get their names? The security companies don’t have to talk to you,” Hector said.

  “Sean Yellow Tail is a former student of mine who used to work at the police department. I think I can get his employee list without too much problem. It shouldn’t be difficult to find out who worked security at Marymount College. All I have to do is ask the department secretary or Abby. As for the security that was provided by the individual museums, I might have that information in the files I borrowed from Abby today.” Marlee grabbed the bulging folder again and began combing through it for information about security officers sent to guard various pieces from multiple museums.

  “As part of the contract with the university, Yellow Tail Security only had to list the head of the organization, which was Sean Yellow Tail.” She continued digging through papers and discovered that at least twelve museums had contributed to the showcase. Some of them were small local museums and did not provide additional security. Others were national institutions and sent two or more security agents along to protect the pieces loaned to Marymount College. The lead security officer on site was listed, but there was no mention of additional agents by name. Five individual collectors also made loans to Marymount and provided their own security detail.

  “This might be harder than I thought,” Marlee said as she polished off the rest of her beer. She was beyond tired at this point. It was past midnight, and she knew she couldn’t hold her eyes open much longer. One look at Hector revealed his weariness too.

  “I think I’m done for tonight,” Hector finally said. “I can’t focus any more. I’m staying at the Super 8 on the south side of town, and you have my cell number if you need me.” He stood and pushed his chair up to the table, leaving the pile of papers in the stacks where he had sorted them.

  “That sounds good. I’m going to bed now and I’ll get up early and go through these papers again from Abby. Thanks again, Hector, for helping me out with this.” She rose from her chair to walk him to the door.

  Hector walked slower than usual as he made his way through the kitchen to the back door. “I know this isn’t the best time to bring it up, but I was hoping we could figure out this thing between us while I’m here in town.” He turned and looked Marlee straight in the eyes. “No pressure, but I’d either like to move forward or move on.”

  With that pronouncement, Hector turned and walked out the back door to his car. He never looked back at Marlee as he backed away from her garage and drove through the alley. She had not seen that coming. Her previous entanglement with Hector was based on the belief Vince had cheated on her. When her assumption turned out to be false, Marlee couldn’t decide whether to keep her romance alive with Vince or to take a chance on Hector. Since she didn’t know what to do, she waited and kept thinking about it. Every day she promised herself she would make a decision, and that day would go by, and the same promise would be made the next day. It looked like the days of taking her time making up her mind were over. Either she would choose Hector or he was taking himself out of the competition.

  A tarnished reputation is impossible to restore. People want to believe the worst in others, especially when it’s not true.

  Chapter 10

  That night, Marlee slept like a log. The multiple cups of coffee throughout the day and into the evening didn’t hamper her sleep cycle like usual. When the alarm sounded the next morning, she found herself in the same position she had fallen asleep in. She rose much earlier than she would have ordinarily gotten started that morning. Before she went to bed, Marlee decided she might need to reference some of the papers in the file Abby loaned her at a future time, so she would make copies of them on her home printer/copy machine.

  She fired up the coffee maker, making a full pot instead of her usual eight cups. Marlee had a major beef with whoever set the measurements on the coffee makers. All of her coffee mugs held at least two cups according to the coffee maker. Therefore, she only really drank four cups of coffee each morning, which sounded a little less like an addiction. Today, however, she would be drinking six cups, according to her calculations, which translated into twelve cups if Mr. Coffee was in charge of the measurements.

  Marlee glanced at the crime chart, which was now back in the middle of the table, splayed across the top of the other papers and files pertaining to the theft. As she stared at the chart, transfixed, she put together a mental list of the people she needed to contact. She had the feeling the case might blow wide open today. A solution may not come forth for a few days, but she was confident that new clues would arise and new evidence would be brought to light.

  Grabbing the same mug she drank from last night, the sleepy professor poured a full cup
of coffee and topped it off with two heaping spoons of vanilla caramel sugar-free non-dairy powdered creamer. She picked up all the papers from the folder she needed to return to Abby in a few hours and went into her office and began copying each page one by one. It was a boring task and what felt like a waste of time, but Marlee knew having her own copy of the papers dealing with The Showcase would be invaluable in the event Abby wouldn’t or couldn’t loan the folder to her again. After an hour and a half, and nearly all of the coffee, Marlee was finished. She put the originals back in the dark green folder and kept her copies in a folder that featured a kitten playing with a ball of yarn. No mixing them up.

  The combination of having her own set of papers on The Showcase, her meeting with Hector, and the possibility that Bridget might get out of jail soon all had Marlee feeling happy and confident. She wheeled into the Marymount campus and parked in the same spot she parked the evening prior. The parking lot near the Amos Building was nearly empty. Looks like Marymount students don’t like taking early morning classes any more than MSU students, Marlee thought with a grin. She remembered her own sophomore experience in taking algebra at 7:30 a.m. After that semester, she never scheduled any classes before the more sensible hour of 10:00 a.m.

  When Marlee arrived at Abby’s office, she found the door opened a crack and a voice speaking in low tones. She couldn’t tell if Abby was the speaker or if it was another person. So as not to appear as an eavesdropper, Marlee knocked loudly on the door. After a few seconds of total silence, Abby called out, “Come in.”

  Abby was tucking away her cell phone as Marlee opened the door and walked in. “Hi, Abby. I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything,” Marlee called out as she sat down.

  “Nope. Not at all. Just a quick call to a friend.” Abby blushed, a bit flustered as if she was lying or had forgotten that Marlee would be dropping by at that time.

  Handing the bulging folder over to Abby, Marlee said, “Thank you so much for letting me look through these papers. I spent quite a bit of time on it last night, but really didn’t come up with much of anything that might help me. This wasn’t completely true, but Abby was on a need-to-know basis until she could be ruled out as a suspect.