Art of Deception

by Brenda Donelan

  “No, I didn’t say that. It’s just that this sounds out of character for Sean. I’m going to talk to him more about it tomorrow.”

  “Don’t be surprised if he denies taking the photos. He’ll probably give you a sob story about being misunderstood by the other officers and that somebody was out to get him,” Hector said.

  “Are you forgetting that I used to be a probation officer? I’m used to working around criminals and being told a pack of lies. I’m just disappointed in Sean. I had really high hopes for him. Guess my instinct isn’t as foolproof as I’d like to think either,” Marlee said as she rubbed her temples. “Who knows what else I’m being a poor judge of?”

  Hector gave her a hard look. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Nothing specifically. I was just wondering how many other times I’ve been wrong about people.”

  He continued to stare at her and then picked up his menu and continued looking at it. “Are the steaks here any good?” Hector asked with an edge to his voice.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never had steak here. The walleye is really good. That’s what I usually order.”

  Chad swooped in, ready for their orders. He quickly caught Hector’s eye to make sure he was not rushing the ordering process. After receiving a nod, Chad stated the specials for the evening without any additional chatter. They gave the waiter their orders and he flew off to the kitchen.

  “What do you plan on asking Thayer tonight when we stop by?” Hector asked.

  “I want to find out about his connection to Sean, and why they insisted on his security company. I’ll ask if he’s had any threats or break-ins at the house. Or if anyone has expressed an interest in buying the urn or borrowing it for a show. Besides that, I’ll probably just ask whatever pops into my head.” Marlee said. “How about you?”

  Hector finished off his second beer before speaking. “I’ll ask if there were any previous claims of stolen art and also some questions about his insurance policy. Plus, I want to know who else lives there or has access to the house.”

  After the food was delivered to the table, Marlee and Hector ate in silence. They both pondered the case, but Marlee also sensed a tension that wasn’t there when they first got to Apollo’s. She couldn’t take it any longer. “So what’s the deal? I feel like you’re upset with me about something.” She didn’t want to hear the answer, but not knowing and making up her own scenarios would be far worse.

  “Yeah, you could say I’m a little pissed at you.” Hector continued eating, not looking at her. Marlee decided to wait rather than urge him to tell her why. He finished the last bite of his steak before he continued. “You just said you might have been wrong about the character of other people too. This on top of the fact that you’ve kept me waiting for months as you decide whether you’re staying with Vince or going with me. Do you know what it’s like to be kept hanging all this time?”

  “I’m sorry, but I honestly haven’t been able to decide. You’re both great guys. I was dating Vince when you and I got together. If I hadn’t been led to believe some lies about him, I never would have gotten involved with you. If I hadn’t been dating Vince, then you and I would have been able to begin a relationship and hopefully still be together. I know this is tough on you. It’s tough on all of us. I’m usually a quick decision maker, but this is something I just can’t tie up that easily.” Marlee laid it on the line. She remembered Hector’s ultimatum from the previous night; if she didn’t make up her mind while he was in town on this visit, he would take himself out of the competition.

  “Just so you know, I’ve had other offers,” Hector said, clearly hurt that Marlee had not yet made her decision.

  “I believe it. If Vince hadn’t been in the picture first, I would be on you like white on rice,” Marlee proclaimed.

  Hector smiled at her old-school saying. “I know it’s complicated, but I’m not waiting around any longer. I leave day after tomorrow, and I need your answer by then, or else I’m moving on.”

  “I get it. I just don’t know that I can make my decision in your time frame.”

  “If you don’t make the decision by then, I’ll make it for you. It’s as simple as that.”

  “Fine,” Marlee said with a crisp tone she usually saved for people she didn’t like such as a couple of colleagues from her department.

  They finished their meal, and Hector paid the bill. As they were walking to the parking lot, they were stopped by a familiar voice.

  “Well, look who’s here! It’s the love birds!” yelled out Della Halter, Marlee’s colleague from MSU. “I see you two are still hot and heavy.” Della was the queen of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Della’s two large dogs pulled on their leashes as they strained to get away from her. They were just as unruly as she was.

  “Hi, Della,” Marlee said. “Sorry we don’t have time to talk. We’re on a tight schedule tonight, I’m afraid.”

  “No worries. I’m just out walking the pups. I fed ‘em beef jerky by accident instead of their regular dog treats. They both farted up the house so bad that I had to take them outside to air out. You two run along. I’m sure you have no use for any of my information about that stolen antique from Marymount anyway.” Della said as she turned her back and began to walk away.

  “Wait! How do you know about that?” Hector asked. Marlee knew better than to ask Della where she got her information. Della was not connected to anyone on campus, in law enforcement, or in the community, yet she always seemed to have more information than anyone else. Marlee had questioned Della before, but she always kept her confidences and would not reveal where she obtained her information.

  “I hear things.” Della twanged in in her southern accent which hadn’t diminished one iota in the fifteen years she’d lived in South Dakota.

  “Okay, you have our attention. What do you know?” Marlee asked. Della loved being in the power position and just needed a little urging before she would divulge her secrets.

  “I know that my birthday is coming up, and I’m having a party at my house next Saturday night. Do you want to come?” Della asked nodding at Marlee. “I’d ask you too,” she said looking toward Hector, “but it’s for women only. Women and their dogs. I’m calling it Bitches With Bitches.”

  “Uh, yeah. Sure, I can come to your party. What should I bring?” Marlee asked. In the academic world, everyone brought food or drinks to social occasions. Since most professors were just overgrown students, they still operated with a student mentality. Everyone who showed up at a party needed to provide something.

  “Yeah, you can bring two bottles of wine, an appetizer, and some crackers. Oh, and can you bring some of those meatballs you brought to the Christmas party? Those were delish,” Della said, enjoying having the upper hand.

  “Sure. Now what were you going to say about the stolen urn?” Marlee was becoming impatient. Not only had Della coerced her into coming to her stupid birthday party which would be overrun with unruly dogs and weird women, but now she had to furnish a good portion of the food and drink.

  “I heard The Showcase your cousin was working on got derailed when she took off with an old urn. It’s no secret that Bridget McCabe was in jail, just got released on electronic monitoring, and is looking at a long prison sentence. From what I hear, she can’t even set foot on the Marymount campus anymore,” Della crowed.

  “What else do you know about it?” Marlee demanded.

  “That’s it. That’s all I know.” Della said, barely holding her dogs back from jumping on Hector and Marlee.

  “And where did you hear all this?” Hector asked.

  “Marlee, you’ll have to tell your stud muffin that I never reveal my sources,” cackled Della as she walked away in a purple parka two sizes too large for her petite frame.

  “Oh, and Marlee. I’d offer an invitation to Bridget for my party, but I know she can’t go to parties when she’s on home detention with electronic monitoring.” Della walked away with a swagger to her step.
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  “I’d like to strangle that little turd,” Marlee whispered to Hector as they walked toward her SUV.

  “One other thing, Marlee,” Della called out across the parking lot. “Bring some artichoke dip to my party. My dogs just love artichoke dip.”

  Recipe for Disaster:

  Me

  Myself

  I

  Chapter 12

  “Does Della live in this area of town?” Hector asked, wondering why she was walking her dogs near Apollo’s.

  “No, she lives near me. I don’t know what she’s doing here. She always seems to show up when I’m least prepared to handle her, and then she won’t go away. Kind of like a cold sore.” Thinking back, Marlee could not count the times Della seemed to appear out of nowhere. Granted, Elmwood was a town of less than 30,000 residents, but there were some people she went a whole year without seeing. Della, on the other hand, seemed to know where Marlee was at all times and always had an inside track on the gossip around campus and Elmwood. “I think when I have some free time, I’m going to investigate Della. She’s a suspicious character.”

  “She’s a character, that’s for sure.” Hector recalled one of his first conversations with her when she inserted herself into his and Marlee’s date and cautioned them to use condoms in a loud voice that drifted over the whole establishment.

  “Hop in.” Marlee motioned to her vehicle. “Let’s head over to Conrad Thayer’s to talk about the urn. I can’t wait to hear what he has to say. I’ve heard Thayer’s a bit of a recluse and somewhat eccentric.”

  “You know the difference between eccentric and crazy?” Hector asked with a smile as he fastened his seat belt.

  “It’s based on the amount of money they have. If a poor person does something weird, they’re considered crazy or dysfunctional. If the same act is committed by a rich person, they’re considered eccentric.”

  “How about Della? Is she crazy or eccentric?” Hector asked.

  “Good question. She’s not rich, so technically she should be considered crazy, but being a college professor carries a high status in the community. The status of being a professor might be enough to push her into the eccentric category. I’ll bring it up at the next department meeting and see what the rest of my colleagues think.” Marlee laughed at this proposition, since several other professors on campus fell into the crazy/eccentric category as well. “Never mind. Probably best not to open that can of worms.”

  Hector and Marlee both laughed. They had talked before about the overall nuttiness of professors and how they seemed to live in their own little worlds. “If you do bring it up, let me know ahead of time. You’ll need security. Plus, I’d like to see the fallout from that conversation.”

  Conrad Thayer lived in Summerset, a ritzy housing development a mile north of town. The area was lined with trees which served to block the view of the upscale homes from the county road to the west. Once they pulled into the development it was like entering a new world. These homes screamed money. From the multi-tiered roofs, to the immaculate gardens, to the back yard swimming pools, Summerset was home to the bankers, judges, physicians, and other elites in Elmwood. Marlee knew her annual salary wouldn’t pay to heat their custom-built dog houses.

  “Wow, there’s some money out here,” Hector said as he gawked at one house, and then another.

  “I know. Kind of breathtaking, isn’t it? When I see these houses I wonder how much of it is paid for and how much is mortgaged to the hilt. You know, just keeping up with the Joneses. I had a guy on probation that lived here with his family. They had everything nice and new; house, clothes, cars, everything. But nothing was paid for.” Marlee recalled the challenging offender that always tried to impress her with his flashy possessions, yet struggled to pay his court fines.

  “Some have everything paid off, some have a mortgage and live within reasonable limits, and some have very little equity and gigantic credit card bills. Just like everywhere else,” Hector guessed.

  “Yeah, that’s true. I can’t wait to get inside Thayer’s house and look around. I hope he takes us on a tour. From what I understand, he has a number of antiques and collectibles on display.” Marlee had picked that tidbit up from Sean when they discussed Yellow Tail Security’s involvement in The Showcase at Marymount College.

  They wound their way through the twisty-turny streets of Summerset until they found Conrad Thayer’s home at the end of a long driveway at the northeast corner of the development. Weeping willow trees hung over the driveway on both sides, giving the home a Southern feel as the professor and the detective drove up to the house. They parked behind the five-car garage and exited the Honda CR-V. Making their way up the stairs to the front door, both peered over their shoulders looking for attack dogs.

  Marlee rang the doorbell which she heard from outside. It was a deep, heavy DING DONG that echoed through the front part of the home. She rang the doorbell again, and they were greeted by a beefy, middle-aged Caucasian man in a tight black suit.

  “Hello?” said the man, looking befuddled, as if he had been awakened from a nap.

  Marlee introduced herself and Hector then asked to speak with Conrad Thayer.

  The balding man in the tight suit simply stared at them. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. You need an appointment to meet with the master of the house.”

  “Um, well, how about tomorrow?” Marlee stammered, unused to such pretense in a little piss-ant town like Elmwood, South Dakota.

  “Yes, I believe tomorrow evening will work. Can I tell Mr. Thayer what this is regarding?”

  Hector spoke up for the first time and gave a concise statement as to why they needed to speak with Thayer. He mentioned he was a detective, but failed to note that he was employed in a town a couple hundred miles away. Hector’s confidence and position as a detective seemed to impress the man in the tight suit.

  “Well, I’m sure he will look forward to it. Why don’t you join him for drinks at 7:00 p.m.? I will let him know to expect you.”

  Before either Marlee or Hector could answer, the heavy wooden door to the home was closed. Not knowing how to act in such a peculiar situation, they stared at each other for a full minute before Marlee spoke. “Um, let’s leave then. We’ll come back tomorrow night at 7:00.”

  They got into Marlee’s vehicle and drove off, neither one ready to put into words what they just experienced. Winding through the streets toward the highway, it was clear that the older and most lavish homes were in the back of the development. The closer they got to the exit, the smaller and less elaborate the houses became.

  “Was that guy a butler?” Hector asked, breaking the silence.

  “He didn’t seem like it, but I don’t have much experience with butlers. Well, I have no experience with butlers. I wonder what I should wear tomorrow for drinks with the master of the house.” Marlee said in an exaggerated British accent. She was worried that one of her sweater and slacks combos might not cut it for this occasion.

  “What kind of drinks do you think Thayer will serve? I doubt it’ll be Bud Light and maybe not even Leinenkugel. Does drinks mean snacks too? Does it include supper?” Hector was in a dither worrying about mixing with the upper crust of the Elmwood society.

  “I bet he’ll serve wine or hard liquor. If there are any snacks, it will be liver pate or something gross like that. I seriously doubt we’ll get chips and salsa. And I don’t think a meal is included or else the butler guy would’ve said something. My guess is that we’re supposed to get there right at 7:00, slurp down a drink or two while we state our business, and he answers our questions, and then we leave no later than 8:00 p.m.” Marlee based her theory on nothing other than television shows.

  “Do I have to tip the butler tomorrow? I’m not sure how this works.” Hector said. Marlee was amused at Hector’s discomfort. He always seemed so confident and in control. It was nice to see that he too could be self-conscious.

  “I watch a lot of British shows, and I don’t think anyone t
ips the butler. I wish I could ask Bridget. She’s a film professor and knows everything about sophisticated films. She’d know if tipping was appropriate.” Marlee felt saddened knowing that her cousin was at Kathleen’s home, just a few blocks away. She was happy about Bridget’s release from jail, but disheartened that the judge prevented any contact between Bridget and herself.

  “You know what? I think we should just dress as we normally would if we were going to someone’s house for drinks. And I’m not tipping the butler either,” Hector said, his confidence returning.

  As the duo drove toward Marlee’s home in the center of town, she thought about the two other employees she wanted to interview from Yellow Tail Security. “Will you reach my papers in the back seat and get the address for Percy Blake and Dereck Geppert?”

  “Here they are, my dear,” Hector said, gazing at Marlee with a lovestruck expression.

  “Knock it off, Hector. We have to get Bridget cleared of these charges. That’s the most important thing.”

  “It’s important, but I don’t know that it’s the most important thing,” he said with a smirk. “By the way, I checked out of my motel today and I’m staying at your place tonight.”

  “Uh….” The professor was without words. As much as she wanted Hector to spend the night, she didn’t think it was the best idea. Especially since she was still deciding about whether to date him or Vince.

  “Percy Blake’s house is on 8th Street, just a few blocks over from Derek Geppert’s home.” Hector switched from flirty to all business in a matter of seconds. “Park down the block a bit so he doesn’t see us drive up.”

  “Duh!” Hector had a bad habit of telling Marlee what to do as if she had no law enforcement experience whatsoever. Even though being a probation officer was not official law enforcement, it was close. She resented Hector taking on the role of the teacher and assuming she was the student. If he planned on being in Marlee’s life, Hector would need to get a handle on his bossiness and authoritativeness. “You know I’ve done this before, right?”