by Sam Cheever
At least I think it was medication…it could have been a basket of snakes for all I knew.
I was staring at his broad shoulders, perfectly sculpted pecs and washboard abs. The celestial choir was singing in my head. Fireworks exploding behind my eyes. Heat prickled my face and made my knees soften. My lungs twisted, screaming for air.
Almost as one, the four of us pulled air into badly depleted lungs and swallowed. That was when I realized I hadn’t been alone in the Cal stupor. I was pretty sure Gertie was going to do a face plant so I reached over and grabbed her arm. “Steady, soldier.”
Her only response was to gulp.
Fortunately, Walter missed our momentary lapse of Cal worship. “I guess you four were right.” He leaned over Cal, examining his wound. “He was on Number 2?”
“Number 3, actually,” Ida Belle said, throwing me a grin.
Pulling a first aid kit from under the counter, Walter opened the small, white box and settled it next to Cal. He pulled out some packets of rubbing alcohol saturated paper and ripped them open. “Somebody gave you quite a knock on the head,” he told Cal while cleaning the wound. “You should probably go get some stitches in that.”
“It’s okay. But I’ll take a few aspirin if you have them.”
Walter nodded toward the store aisles. “Third row over, Felicity. Under the antihistamines.”
I found the aspirin and, on an impulse, grabbed a box of non-drowsy antihistamines too. We could probably all use those after the night we’d had. Then I went looking for bottled water.
I found it in a refrigerated unit on the back wall. Grabbing 5 bottles, I headed back toward the front of the store. There was a small pile of stuff on the window ledge by the front door. I recognized Walter’s jacket and a set of keys. But the pile of mail under the keys caught my eye. I blinked, not understanding at first, and then reached for the top envelope.
By the time I returned to the group around the counter, I’d worked myself up pretty good. So that, when Walter looked up and gave me a smile, all I could do was hold the envelope up and glare at him.
He blinked, turning pale. “Felly, I…”
Gertie grabbed the envelope. “Walter, what are you doing with Charlie Spift’s mail?”
He shook his head, his hands coming up as if to ward off the verbal blows he knew were heading his way. “I promised him I wouldn’t tell anybody…”
Ida Belle jerked as understanding flared. “You know who Charlie Spift is?”
Walter sighed, shaking his head. “Not really. But I know his contact. I promised I’d never reveal who either was.”
“So that’s who you were picking mail up for tonight?”
He glanced at Cal, nodding. “Sorry I couldn’t tell you.”
“Why are you picking up his mail,” I asked, though as soon as I asked the question I knew the answer. “You run the mail to his contact and the contact gives it to Spift.”
Walter nodded. “He pays me a monthly retainer and part of that fee is keeping my mouth closed. I’m not doing anything illegal. It’s for his protection.”
Cal pulled his hoodie on. “Why is this Spift guy so secretive? What does he have to hide?”
Frowning, Walter shook his head. “I wish I knew. To tell you the truth I’ve come really close to canceling our arrangement a few times. I figure anybody who works that hard to stay out of the light has a dark secret.”
“Then why are you still picking up his mail?” Ida Belle asked.
Walter stood, hands on hips, and stared at the floor a long moment. Finally he looked up. “His contact is a good man. Unimpeachable character. I figure if he’s involved Spift must be okay.”
“Who’s the contact, Walter?”
Glancing at Ida Belle, Walter’s handsome face went gray. It was clear he didn’t want to lie to her.
“Walter?”
He expelled air, shaking his head. “I’m going to regret this.” Looking her right in the eye he said, “Brother Todd out at the Order.”
Cal headed for the door. “I guess we’re going back out to The Order of Saint Francis Assisi on the Bayou again.”
I hurried after him. “I don’t understand. We’re looking for Brother Todd now? I thought we were looking for Brother Mike.”
Cal held the door for us as we filed past. “Apparently we’re looking for both. I’m going to get all these monks in a room and harangue them until somebody talks. I’m getting really tired of this whole mess.”
“Wait!” Walter called out. He came around the counter, looking sheepish. “He’s not at the Order. I spoke to him earlier and he said he was heading to Mudbug. Something about finding Brother Mike.”
Cal shook his head and followed us out to the Jeep. “Apparently the whole monastery’s in on this…whatever it is.”
###
We figured Mudbug meant the Art Emporium. Gertie parked the Caddy a few blocks away and we crept up on the darkened building, keeping a constant eye out for the Mudbug police, who, according to Ida Belle and Gertie were bored and tended to patrol the streets pretty regularly.
The Emporium was dark and quiet, the front door locked.
We formed an obstructing circle around Cal as he quickly picked the lock and then slid inside behind him once the door was open.
My heart was pounding, my pulse dancing a jig beneath my skin. I was pretty sure I’d never broken and entered before. At least not when it mattered. There was that time a bunch of my friends and I broke into the Theta Phi Alpha sorority house at Indiana University and put green dye into all the sisters’ shampoo bottles because they’d snubbed us at a party. Mean girls. Of course we did it during Saint Patrick’s week so they could all look like lucky green clovers. I’m pretty sure they didn’t feel all that lucky to have green hair.
But back to my current illegal event. No green hair for the current breaking and entering event. Though there was a good chance there was going to be some red hiney before the night was out.
We stopped just inside the door and listened. The distant drone of voices filtered toward us, probably through the vents. The main show room was empty except for a few vacant pedestals and some truly ugly paintings hanging on the wall. To my relief, I noted the butt and boobs were missing from their pedestals. I could only hope they were currently polluting some other poor schmo’s eye space.
Cal motioned toward the door in the back…the one Ida Belle and I had ducked through the other night, just before Gertie threw the entire show into apoplexy with her ill-advised cocktail sauce explosion.
We stood to one side as Cal, gun held at high ready, opened it a crack and peered through. After a beat he nodded and slipped through the door. I followed him, with Gertie on my heels and Ida Belle following her. Fortune brought up the rear with her own, apparently ever-present gun.
The back room was filled with arguing voices. I recognized my father’s voice and a couple others which didn’t much surprise me. Though one voice was definitely a shock.
Cal stopped at the end of the hallway and I slid up close to him, whispering in his ear. “Pleece is here.”
He nodded. Lifting a hand, no doubt hoping we’d obey and stay back, he slipped around the corner and the arguing snapped off as if he’d flipped a switch.
“Mr. Amity,” Big Hebert said. “Strange seeing you here. Too bad you didn’t stay put on the island. It would have made everything so much less…complex.”
I jerked in surprise at the unmistakable sound of a click behind us.
“Drop the gun, Ms. Morrow.”
Fortune lifted her hands to the sky, gun muzzle upward. She put her gun on the floor and Mannie kicked it away. It skidded across the floor, preceding us into the main room. Mannie jerked his chin toward the conclave ahead. “After you, ladies.”
“I knew we should have subjected him to the Brazilian wax,” Gertie murmured.
“There’s still time,” I responded.
“Stop talking,” he demanded in a growl. Apparently we’d invaded his sa
fe space again.
We filed into the already very full room and I blinked at the sight of my father in the center of it, tied to a chair next to an equally bound Pleece.
Mannie looked at Cal. “Drop it Amity.”
Keeping his gaze on me as if trying to beam me a silent message which I had no hope of interpreting, Cal slowly settled his gun onto the floor and kicked it away. It skittered in my direction, stopping a short distance from my foot.
Cal’s gaze widened slightly before he turned away.
He either wanted me to get the gun or he didn’t want me to get the gun. Good. That was helpful.
Felonius’s gaze widened when he saw me. I thought he sighed.
“I’ll ask you this one more time, Chance. Where’s the artist?”
“I told you, Big. I don’t know where he is. He wasn’t on the island when your pet thugs dragged me and the PI there.”
“You must think I’m pretty stupid,” Big said. “He couldn’t have gotten off that island without a boat. Now tell me where he is or I’m going to hurt you. Bad.”
My heart pounding with fear, I looked away from the terror in my father’s face. It was making me too jittery to watch. So I concentrated on looking for a way out of the current predicament.
Unfortunately, the first step in that process was to measure the situation and figure out what was going on.
I glanced at Pleece, trying to figure out what his role in the current drama was. Big didn’t seem that interested in him. Maybe he’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And for his part, Pleece didn’t seem all that interested in what Big was doing either. In fact, he appeared distracted, his gaze continually sliding toward a spot along the wall of the stockroom. I glanced that way and saw heavily laden wood and metal shelving. There were about a dozen cardboard tubes like the ones paintings were shipped in. A big hunk of cypress wood that could have been a sculpture for all I knew, and a variety of metal tools. On the bottom shelf were several paint cans and a basket filled with what looked like oily rags. I couldn’t help wondering what Pleece was looking for. Maybe he was expecting the police.
I stared at the spot and thought I saw movement. Slowly, my vision focused on the area until a panicked gaze came clear. The eyes blinked rapidly, seeming to beg me to silence.
In a wash of clarity, I realized exactly what was going on and who the real forger was.
Something slammed across the room and I jumped, turning my attention back to my father. His eyes were wide, focused on the crowbar Big was clutching in one meaty paw. The table was splintered beneath the sharp-edged metal tool. “Come on, Chance, don’t make me sorry I dragged your butt back here from that god forsaken island instead of just dumping your body in the Bayou.”
“I told your guy on the island. I don’t know why Cal was there. I didn’t tell him anything. I couldn’t. I don’t know anything.”
“It’s a pity your daughter will have to watch this, Chance. But I guess nosy runs in your family.” Big shrugged, his oversized silk suit puckering around his massive shoulders and then dropping smoothly down again.
“I’m telling you the truth, Big. Believe me, if I knew where Mike was, I’d tell you.”
My father’s revelation sucked all the air from the room. Brother Mike was the artist? He was Charlie Spift?
“We had an agreement, Chance. Your buddy and I. He’s been selling his goods directly to this Emporium and those other places in New Orleans…cutting me out of the profits. Nobody stiffs the Heberts.” He slammed the crowbar into the side of the chair, causing my father to jump and turn pale.
I leapt forward, my lips moving before my brain engaged. “Mike isn’t crossing you, Big.”
Mannie cocked his gun and Cal quickly stepped between me and the thug. “Back down, Mannie. She’s unarmed.”
“Talk to me, Ms. Chance. Maybe you’ll prove more reasonable than your father.”
“Spift wasn’t selling to other art dealers. He and my father were trying to find the person who was.”
Pleece’s frantic gaze found mine and widened. He gave a little jerk of his head, clearly afraid of what I’d reveal.
Big rested his massive bulk against the wood table and it creaked in protest. “You don’t say? Do you expect me to believe Spift let his pieces go without knowing where?”
“They’re not his pieces,” Cal said. “There’s an art forger at work here. We’ve been helping Felonius and Mike find the person selling his work as Spift’s. Spift knew you were after him and realized the only way to get you off his back was to produce the counterfeiter.”
Big seemed to be considering what Cal said. Finally he looked at my father. “Then you shouldn’t have a problem telling me who the imposter is.”
Felonius caught my eye and I could see the pain there. He knew. But he didn’t want to tell Big. In that moment I found a new core of respect for my father. He was scared, in danger, but willing to take the punishment to save someone else.
I only hoped that someone else appreciated what he was about to do for them.
Big nodded toward Mannie and, before I knew what they were up to, the thug had me by the arm, his gun pointed at my head.
“No!” My father tried to stand, the chair coming off the ground and slamming back down as the ropes held.
Cal went taut, his fist bunching and his jaw turning to steel as he lunged toward Mannie.
The thug had been expecting it. Before Cal took two steps, Mannie jammed the gun into my temple, causing me to gasp in pain before I could stop myself. “Stop right there, Mr. Amity.”
“If you don’t care about yourself, Felonius. Maybe you’ll care about what happens to your daughter.”
My father turned to Pleece. Their gazes met and Pleece’s filled with sadness. He took a deep breath. “It’s me. I’m the forger.”
We all stilled. Mannie’s hand on my shoulder tightened painfully. And I turned toward the heavily laden shelves, seeing the first signs of movement there.
In the silence, the sound of two shotguns being cocked sounded like explosions.
“Step away from the girl, Mannie.”
I recognized Brother Mike’s voice and half turned when the pressure of Mannie’s gun left my temple. Cal moved lightning fast, grabbing his gun off the floor, kicking Fortune’s toward her, and putting himself between me and Big Hebert. “Step away, Mr. Hebert. It’s over.”
I turned to find Brother Mike and Brother Todd holding shotguns on Big and Mannie. Todd looked completely out of his element wearing a cat burglar type outfit, complete with black gloves. Big flakes of dandruff speckled his fringe of hair.
Sirens filled the night beyond the back door and Big sighed. He glanced toward the two monks holding shotguns on them. “You know this will be war, right?”
Brother Todd nodded. “This needs to be over. After tonight our original deal will be reinstated. But nobody else gets hurt.”
Big’s eyes widened as he considered the implications of Todd’s words. He slid a gaze over the assembled room and then nodded. “Deal.”
I frowned. I had no idea what was going on but I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to like it.
Brother Todd’s hand came up and the lights went out. Blackness consumed us as the sounds of movement all around created disorientation.
The door opened and closed and I heard footsteps running toward the disappearing sliver of outside light. Cal threw himself against the door just as an engine roared outside and tires squealed against pavement. When the lights came back on, Mannie and Big were gone.
I turned to my father and blinked at the young woman kneeling before Pleece, cutting the rope binding him to the chair.
Brother Todd walked over and stood beside them. “You leave town tonight. If any more imposter art shows up bearing my name, I will send the Heberts after you.”
I blinked. Wait…Todd was Spift? That was when I realized the “dandruff” I’d been seeing wasn’t dandruff at all. It was sawdust from his sculpting. That expla
ined the hands in pockets thing too. Hadn’t Pleece told us Spift was rumored to be very protective of himself. I interpreted that to mean he protected his hands. An artist’s hands.
Pleece surged from his chair and embraced his daughter. “You have my word.”
Todd didn’t look entirely convinced. He speared Monika Pleece with a look. “You’re a very talented sculptor. You should create your own pieces. You don’t need to copy mine.”
The woman nodded. “I’m really sorry. It was only supposed to be one piece. But the money was so good…” She lowered her lashes, looking ashamed.
Pleece wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s my fault. When I realized how much talent she had, I pushed her to do it. But no more. Tonight was a wakeup call. We’re going to leave this place and start somewhere fresh.”
“And I get to create my own pieces.” Monika looked so pleased at the prospect, Brother Todd’s expression finally softened.
“Good. You’d better go. The police are on their way.”
Monika swung a look my way, giving me a smile. “Thank you for not telling them I was there.”
I frowned. “Brother Todd, I don’t think we should be so hasty here. One of these two tried to run Brother Mike over with a car.”
Pleece shook his head. “I was just trying to scare him off. I wouldn’t have hit him with the car.”
Brother Todd jerked his head toward the exterior door. “Go,” he told the Pleeces.
The Pleeces left through the same door Big and Mannie had escaped through.
Cal turned to the two monks while I cut my father loose. “I can’t believe you let them go.”
Brother Todd’s face turned red. “I’m afraid their arrest would cause me as much pain as it would them. I’ve done things I’m not proud of.” He glanced at my father. “Things that will haunt me for the rest of my life. I’d just as soon put this all behind us. This way, nobody gets hurt.”
Felonius frowned and I couldn’t help wondering what the monk had been talking about. I’d grill my father later to find out.
“I hope you’re right,” Ida Belle said. “Big doesn’t take well to being crossed, especially when there’s significant money involved.”
