Hidden

by Fern Michaels

  “Will do. Bye.” Luna was clearing off the counter. As soon as Luna turned her back, Rowena dashed into the showroom, stepped into the cabinet, and closed the doors. She was glad it wasn’t too tight. She could actually sit with her knees bent. Clever move, she thought.

  * * *

  George and Leroy had been staking out the rear entrance of the BARRN all day. The door was open, but no one had come in or out the entire time. Leroy was squirming. “Hey, boss, I ain’t feelin’ too good.”

  “What in blazes is botherin’ you?”

  Leroy let out a burp that practically fogged the window. George held his nose with one hand and tried to wave the odor away. “I think it was the fried chicken.” Leroy burped again. George opened the door of the truck and stepped out. “For Pete’s sake! Man, you stink like a garbage dump. You better keep all that food you ate to yerself. I don’t want no puking or any other disgusting thing happenin’ round here.”

  Leroy held his stomach. “Seriously, boss, I’m gonna be sick.”

  “For the love of all get-out, get out and go behind the pickup.” George was getting frustrated, and he began to think that his good fortune was taking a turn for the worse. He had had no plan when they left the night before. The only thing George had on his mind was money. It had come so easily that evening, he figured he could get his hands on some more. He just hadn’t figured out how, or even why that junk was in such demand. Even if he got it back, what would he do with it? Especially since he didn’t know what all the fuss was about. Nope. The day had been long, and it was going to be nightfall soon enough. He had to figure out his next move. Driving with Leroy’s gastrointestinal issues for hours was not appealing in the least. George kept staring at that back door. He peered to see if he could spot any security cameras. Nothing he couldn’t get past.

  George thought for a few minutes while Leroy regained some of his composure. He had a plan. He’d make Leroy wait in the pickup while he sneaked into the back of the workshop. He’d hide until the place closed, then he’d check everything out. Not having a clue about the layout, he knew he would be going in blind. He shrugged. He should have thought of that earlier. Check it out from the front? Too late now. If he got caught, he’d say he walked in the wrong way. No harm done. Now he had to plan his getaway. For sure, an alarm would go off when he came out of the building, so Leroy would have to be waiting for him. He told Leroy to rub dirt on the license plates so no one could read them. “Ain’t that against the law?” Leroy asked, stupefied.

  “No foolin’, but we don’t want anyone to ID my pickup either. We can clean the plates when we’re far enough away. I’ll ring your phone once. Do. Not. Answer. It. Got it?” George was questioning his own good sense and whether he had any left. George coolly walked toward the rear of the building, casually looking in both directions. Thankfully, he didn’t look like a total mess. Just a worn-out handyman with a flannel shirt and a pair of jeans. Cowboy boots, scruffy beard. He surely didn’t look like he was going to a black-tie event, but he didn’t look like he had crawled out from under a railroad trestle either. He sniffed his armpits. Ew. He hoped he didn’t run into anybody ’cause he was kinda stinky.

  George finally reached the rear doorway and peeked in. Nothing too different from any other workshop. Tools, wood, table saw. Paint and brushes. Nothing different except the brass headboard that caught his eye. It looked familiar. He inched closer. And the side table. Yep. This was the stuff. But what of it? Nothing looked particularly special. If anything, it looked pretty much the same as when he had sold it. Faded, broken, and in a state of disrepair. So why would anyone want it? And more than one person at that. George was going to do his darnedest to figure out what was so valuable.

  His first thought was that perhaps the brass headboard was really made of gold. Nah. Too much of a fairy tale. He heard footsteps outside. Someone bolted the door from the outside. It was a cylinder lock that required a key on either side of the door. If it was locked from the outside, you needed a key if you were inside in order to get out. Much to his dismay, the interior key was not in the lock on his side of the door. Unless he could bust the lock, he wasn’t getting out that way. He thought they had done away with those types of locks. Fire hazard. He shrugged. Nothing he could do about it now. He’d call Leroy and tell him to meet him around front, but he remembered he had told Leroy not to answer the phone. He had to come up with a plan B or wait until morning. He knew Leroy wouldn’t last that long. He’d be craving something deep-fried soon enough.

  George decided to check out the front of the showroom. See if he could make his escape that way. He crawled along the floor of the showroom and looked out the big glass doors. He noticed some EXIT signs. He’d take the nearest one to the rear of the building. If he got caught, he’d tell them he had gotten locked in. Period. They couldn’t prove anything different.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Cranberry Lake—Cobblestone Hill

  Clive had suggested that Logan take Colette and Max out for a boat ride while he waited for Cullen Bodman to call. He wanted the others to enjoy the day out on the lake. And he thought that Logan was showing some interest in Colette, which he wanted to encourage and facilitate. The Internet was back up, and so was the landline. He was certain he would hear something shortly. But the entire afternoon had gone by without a word. He couldn’t understand why Cullen Bodman hadn’t returned his call. Clive had said it was urgent.

  It occurred to Clive that perhaps Cullen hadn’t gotten the message yet. Strange thing in these techno-times. But then again, he lived in an area with sketchy cell service because of the mountains. Clive decided to phone him again. This time a woman answered. “Hello, the BARRN. This is Luna Bodman. How can I help you?”

  “Yes. Hello. My name is Clive Dunbar. I represent the Millstone estate.”

  Luna started to shake. How could she be sure it was really him? “Oh?” She pretended ignorance.

  “Yes. I understand Mr. Cullen Bodman purchased a container from the garage of the Millstone Manor.”

  Luna wasn’t sure how to answer him. What if he was a phony? And where was her brother? “How can I help you?” she asked.

  “I’m trying to locate the property. There was a mix-up during the sale.” Clive wasn’t sure how much information he should share. She hadn’t acknowledged receipt of the goods.

  “I believe you are going to have to speak to my brother about it, sir. Unfortunately, he isn’t available at the moment. May I take a message?”

  Clive felt a little more comfortable knowing it was Bodman’s sister he was speaking to and not a clerk. He decided to share his concern about Rowena and Arthur Millstone. “Do you know if your brother received any calls from either Rowena or Arthur Millstone?”

  “No. Not to my knowledge. May I ask why? Perhaps I can be of further assistance if I have more information.”

  Clive hesitated again. “It has to do with the late Randolph Millstone’s estate. I’m not at liberty to discuss any details. However, should either of them get in touch with you, please do not discuss anything or have any transactions with them until you speak to me.” Clive sounded as serious as a nuclear threat.

  “Certainly, Mr. Dunbar.” By that time, Luna was sure she was speaking to the attorney for Randolph Millstone, but she wasn’t ready to turn over information or the goods. Not until she spoke with Gaines and Cullen. “I’ll be happy to give him the message. I should be hearing from him shortly.” She hoped.

  “Thank you, Ms. Bodman.” Clive hung up and continued pacing the floor.

  * * *

  It was just around five o’clock when Logan, Colette, and Max walked up the dock and climbed the decks to the main level. Clive was standing outside the porch. “Ahoy, mates!” He waved.

  “Ahoy, Mr. Clive!” Max waved. Then Colette.

  “Hey, Dad. What’s the latest?” Logan set the cooler down on the deck.

  “Not very much, I’m afraid.” Clive heaved a big sigh. “I was able to reach th
e sister, but she wasn’t very forthcoming with information. She said as soon as she heard from her brother, she’d let him know I called.”

  “Do you know if he got the first message?” Colette asked.

  “I do not.” Clive opened the wide screen door for everyone. “So how was your day?” He didn’t want to put a damper on what he hoped had been a fine afternoon for them.

  “Super!” Max cried out. “I caught a fish!” He was nodding like a bobblehead.

  “And?” Colette urged him.

  “And I threw him back.” Max turned over his palms.

  Clive chuckled. “What else did you do?”

  “Logan took us to an island. We saw a bunch of lizards!” Max was ecstatic. “And we had a picnic.”

  “Yes, it was a lovely way to spend the day. Thank you, Logan.” Colette smiled warmly. “I can’t remember the last time I have enjoyed myself so much.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Logan smiled in return. He was beginning to enjoy Colette’s company more and more.

  “Max, go upstairs and clean up. I’ll see what I can whip up for dinner.” Colette moved into the kitchen. She felt very much at home, enjoying the nurturing that was being shared. Food, company, fresh air.

  “I took the liberty to thaw out some steaks. I thought we could talk Logan into firing up the grill.”

  “Sure thing!” Logan replied. “I’ll go clean myself up, too. Be right back.”

  Colette investigated the pantry and found fingerling potatoes. She had a special recipe for them. Colette enjoyed cooking and took every opportunity when it was presented to her. Even if it was in a stranger’s house. But they were no longer strangers. They had joined forces and were on a mission to see that Randolph Millstone’s final wishes were carried out.

  She went back into the kitchen and up the stairs to change her clothes, brush her hair, and check her makeup. She wanted to look her best for Logan. She was beginning to sense some interest on his part. And he really seemed to enjoy being with Max. Could it get any better?

  Logan was the first to come down. “Any luck with the notebook?” he asked Clive.

  “If the information I received from the accountant’s office is correct, Mr. Arthur Millstone has been fiddling with the family books. I found a number of transfers that coincide with entries in the binder.”

  “So you think it’s a journal of payments to his loan sharks?”

  “Possibly.” Clive went into the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine. Tonight it would be a Séamus pinot noir. He took out a corkscrew and peeled the capsule from the top of the bottle. He removed the cork and poured the wine into a decanter. He turned to Logan. “And, I think he’s been selling off some of the holdings.”

  “Doesn’t he need the board’s approval to do that?” Logan asked.

  “Yes, he does. But maybe he was hoping he could buy them back at some point.”

  “Like a pawnshop?” Logan snickered.

  “Indeed.”

  Stillwell Art Center

  Luna was in deep thought as she tidied up the café. She was thinking about that strange phone call from the Dunbar man, or so he had called himself; that strange woman in white; and how strange it was that she hadn’t heard from Cullen. She almost jumped out of her shoes when her cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID. It was Marshal Gaines. She wondered if he would stop by. “Hey!” she answered lightly.

  “Hey yourself,” Gaines replied. “So, as I was heading over in your direction, I came upon a man who had a flat tire. To his dismay, he didn’t have his cell phone with him. Apparently he had left it at his shop. I helped him unload the truck to get to the spare tire, which of course was flat as well.”

  Luna interrupted him. “Are you with Cullen?” The words rushed out.

  “Well, I was about to say, the man was your brother. We’ve been sitting on the side of the road for the past two hours. You OK? You sound a little harried.”

  “Cullen got a phone call today. It was from a man named Clive Dunbar. He claimed to be the attorney for the Millstone estate.”

  “Isn’t that who we were looking for? Millstone’s attorney?”

  “Yes, but he mentioned Arthur and Rowena Millstone and that we should not talk to them if they call.” Luna was speaking a mile a minute. “And then there was a strange woman lurking about today. She said her name was Roseanne, but I think she was lying.” Luna was running out of breath.

  “OK. Take it easy. We should be there in about twenty minutes.”

  “OK. Hurry. I’m asking Chi-Chi to come over to the café.”

  “Good idea,” Gaines said. “Here, tell your brother what you told me. I’m driving now.”

  Luna told Cullen about the woman who had stopped by looking for him. She described how the woman was dressed. Dripping of money. She seemed to be on a quest and was anxious to speak to Cullen.

  “OK. Hold tight. We’ll be there soon.”

  Luna clicked off the call and dialed Chi-Chi. She could see her across the courtyard pulling items off the counter and locking them up. “Hello, love,” Chi-Chi answered.

  “Chi-Chi, can you come by when you’re done?” Luna was still out of breath.

  “Of course, my love. You sound all wound up.”

  “Just a bit. I’ll tell you all about it when you get here.” They nodded to each other across the courtyard.

  Luna finished putting everything away and poured herself a cup of tea. Chamomile. She sat at one of the tables, closed her eyes, and took several cleansing breaths. Such a wacky day.

  Several minutes later, Chi-Chi tapped on the glass. “What is going on?” Her singsong voice was a balm to Luna’s ears.

  “You saw that woman who was creeping around today? The one all dressed in white?”

  “Oh yes. Something about her did not feel right to me.”

  “Me neither. And she kept coming back, looking for Cullen, as if he might have been expecting her, although she didn’t say so. And if he had been expecting someone, he would have told me before he went on his errand of no return.”

  “What do you mean, no return?” Chi-Chi became concerned.

  “Well, he forgot his phone. He left it in the shop. On his way back, he got a flat tire. But, that’s not all. Chris Gaines spotted him and was going to help him but they had to unload the truck, only to find the spare tire was flat, too.” Luna slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. “He’s supposed to be the brainiac in the family. I’m supposed to be the ditz.”

  “Is everyone OK now? Are they on their way back?”

  “Yes. They should be getting here any minute.”

  * * *

  George made his way around the showroom, peeking into drawers, seeing what else was of interest. After his self-guided tour, he’d deal with the stuff in the workshop and figure out what to do next. Unless someone unlocked that back door, he was leaving empty-handed. He came upon a nicely finished armoire with cane-paneled doors.

  Rowena heard his footsteps getting closer. She had nothing with which to defend herself. The footsteps stopped in front of the cabinet she was hiding in. The doors were pulled open, and both she and George started screaming!

  It was hard to tell which one was more freaked-out. Rowena was beating George over the head, trying to push him away. He was covering his head, trying to shield himself from the large leather handbag being used to pummel his skull.

  Hearing the shrieks coming from the showroom, Luna grabbed a fire extinguisher and marched in, holding the nozzle in one hand and the device in the other. “Call 911!” she shouted to Chi-Chi. Chi-Chi was already on it. Wiley was barking wildly, adding to the clamor.

  “Stop! Both of you!” Luna yelled at the intruders. “Trust me. You don’t want a CO2 facial.” She was directing her comment to Cruella de Vil. “And you,” she said, looking at the pathetic man cowering on the floor, “don’t you dare make a move or you will be picking sodium bicarbonate out of that beard while you sit in a jail cell.”

  Chi-Chi wa
s on the phone with the police, describing the situation. “Yes, that is correct. We have two intruders and are holding them at bay with a fire extinguisher.” Chi-Chi listened for a moment. “Yes, I did say a fire extinguisher.”

  Luna wanted to lunge at the wicked woman. The guy? A schlub. “What are the two of you doing here?” Luna demanded.

  “I have no idea who this man is,” Rowena said, her disgust that anyone would associate her with him evident.

  “You sure do know who I am, lady,” George piped in. “You sent me a thousand dollars last night to give you the name of the guy who bought the garage junk.”

  “How do you know it was me?” Rowena demanded.

  “By your nasty tone, lady.” George gave it right back to her.

  Luna tapped the hose of the extinguisher against the armoire, then pointed it at Rowena. “Let’s start with you, blondie. Answer my question. What are you doing here?”

  “I, I, wanted to speak to your brother.” Rowena was desperate to regain control of the situation.

  “By hiding in an armoire.” Luna was overstating the obvious. “Did you ever hear of making an appointment?” She was livid. She turned her glare to the dude. “What’s your story?”

  “Well, like I said, I was the one who sold the stuff to the guy who owns this place.”

  “So?” Luna was about to press the lever of the fire extinguisher just for the heck of it. Maybe make them dance around a bit. No. She had to invoke her inner spirit and remain calm. She spotted a roll of duct tape on one of the tables. “Chi-Chi. Wrap their hands behind their backs.”

  “My pleasure.” Chi-Chi was as calm as a cucumber. Luna kept swinging the hose back and forth in case either of them tried to make a quick move. Chi-Chi grabbed Rowena’s hands, pulled them behind her back, and began to wrap the tape. “Oh dear. This beautiful Hermès bracelet will be ruined.”

  Rowena started to protest. “You won’t get away with this! My husband is an enormously powerful man!”