by Dana Stone
Erin slid into the driver’s seat of the Porsche. “I’ll see you then. We’ll meet outside the entrance at seven, if that’s all right?”
“Perfect. I’ll be there on time,” Giorgio promised as he closed the car door.
Chapter 6
MONDAY DAWNED TO a heavy downpour of rain. Her feet were dry and unattractive in yellow Wellington boots, that clomped instead of tapped like her regular shoes. Erin shook raindrops from her umbrella and closed it. She’d slipped into the Jetta and was headed down the driveway when Tristan entered the grounds in his Jaguar. Now what?
Stopped side by side, Cam slid the window down. “Erin’s not here. She’s on her way to New York. Can I help you with something, Mr. Forsyth?” Rain spattered in through her open window as she waited for his answer.
“Never mind, it can wait. You must be on your way to Starbucks?” Tristan asked with a smile.
She nodded, slid the window up and drove away without a word. Certain that he’d follow, Cam dreaded their upcoming conversation. She’d seen nothing of Tristan since he’d laid that heavenly smacker on her lips. The memory of his deep, luscious kiss inflamed her overwhelming desire for him. With a head shake, Cam grimaced and picked up speed.
The café was filled to the brim by those seeking their morning allotment of caffeine. Cam joined the queue. She grinned over the fact that she numbered among the many who made a daily trip, or more, to the shop with the best-tasting coffee imaginable.
“You’re addicted to this coffee, Cam. It’s really not good for you,” Tristan said close to her ear.
How had he gotten here so quickly? And right behind her in line? She’d happily left him in a spray of water from her tires, several miles back. “It’s a bad habit, but one I’m not willing to break. Erin got me hooked on the stuff. Mrs. Hardy brews it for Erin at their home.”
“Can we sit and chat, or must you get to the office right away?” Tristan asked gently.
With an exaggerated sigh, she made a show of checking her watch. “A brief chat, if we must. I have tons to attend to today, especially with Erin away.”
“Thank you,” he said.
They ordered, found an empty table for two, and set about measuring one another. When they’d both reached their own satisfaction level, they laughed in unison.
“This isn’t what I expected from you, Cam. I thought for sure Erin would handle the most important issues at the gallery, but instead, you manage it all. Why?”
Wary, she replied, “When I took the job, Mr. Cameron was still alive. A charming man to work for, he trained me in all aspects of the business. After he passed away, I took the reins and led the team until Erin could get her head together. It’s as simple as that. Erin does her fair share, Mr. Forsyth, she really does. There are those who think she’s a slacker, but they’re wrong.”
His stare had intensified as he listened. She fidgeted with her napkin and sipped the strong brew. What did he want from her? Wasn’t he supposedly interested in Erin? And if so, why had he confused the issue and kissed her, Cam?
He leaned back in his chair and studied her. “You’re protective... I like that in an employee. Erin’s lucky to have such a dedicated manager to operate the gallery and stay tuned to the staff’s needs the way you do.”
“Please, you’ll make me blush if you keep this up. I do my job, Mr. Forsyth. Nothing more and nothing less.”
“No, you do more than anyone else at Cameron Gallery. Meredith mentioned it on more than one occasion. She seems to think you ought to be the owner instead of Erin. At first I thought she was complaining over Erin’s treatment of you and the others. The more often we spoke, it became clear that she’s right. If Erin eventually sells the gallery to me I’ll put it completely in your capable hands. You’ll have total control over shows and all the rest, giving you more power than you presently have. My other businesses work like that. I pay owners a fair sum for each gallery and allow them to maintain control. We work out a system, which is what I’d do with you. Think in terms of us being workmates.”
Before she could say a word, he held up a hand and said, “I’ll give you the staff you need to make it all work without you having to run yourself into the ground, as you have been.”
Speechless, Cam set her cup on the table and folded her shaky hands in her lap. Was he serious? He’d bypass Erin with a mere snap of his fingers? Not only would he, he could do it under rights of ownership. The implications of his offer hit her smack in the head. He’d been trying to turn Cam to his side. The scoundrel.
“You make quite an offer Mr. Forsyth, however, pitting me against my boss is unfair to me and to her. I won’t turn on Erin, no matter what the offer is.” Cam capped her cup and slid her chair away from the table. “I must be going. I won’t mention this to Erin. I wouldn’t want to cause her any more grief than you’ve already given her.” Scurrying away, Cam left Tristan standing in the coffee shop.
She’d just entered the gallery through the rear of the building using her security card to unlock the door, when she was assailed by Guy Blakely, her main security guard. Meredith and the other guard, Jesse Comber, who shared the responsibility for keeping the artwork safe and sound, rushed toward her. Meredith’s face showed ravages of tears. Both guards yammered at once.
“Wait, wait, I can’t understand a thing you’re saying. Let’s pop into my office and discuss what’s got you all so upset,” Cam ordered with a thumb jerk toward her office.
When the two guards went on ahead of her, Cam drew Meredith aside. “What’s the matter?”
With a sniff, Meredith whispered, “There’s been a robbery.” She burst into tears and hung her head as she rushed forward.
Cam stood stock still, absorbing her words. Robbery? What robbery? There weren’t any police about, the alarm hadn’t gone off and she, Erin, certainly hadn’t gotten a call about a robbery. Her body trembled, her knees knocked together, and it took all her strength to put on a businesslike face before she strode into the room behind them.
The two men were seated in front of her desk. Meredith stood at the wide windows, sniffling into a wad of tissues. Cam glanced at each employee and said, “I assume you’ve kept the front entry secured, so Guy, start at the beginning and tell me everything. Erin’s out of town, and I can’t call her until I know what’s going on.” Cam plunked into her chair, took a deep breath and waited.
“Everything is locked up tight, Cam.” Guy dipped his head toward the younger guard, “I came in this morning and found junior, here, out cold on the floor.”
About to speak, Guy interrupted Cam before she could utter a word. “He’s all right. Has a headache, is all. We’ll send him off to the hospital emergency room shortly, but I wanted him to explain what happened.”
Her eyes flicked to the younger man. “Are you okay?” He nodded.
“Would you please tell me what the hell is going on then?”
“Around four this morning, I went to the men’s room, you know, to uh...” Jesse’s voice trailed off.
Cam waved a hand and snapped, “Yes, yes, move on.”
“Sorry, uh, I wasn’t gone long, honest. When I got back, someone wacked me on the head.” Jesse winced when he touched the tender spot on his head. “There are two paintings missing.”
Speechless, Cam gawked at him. A moment later, she erupted. “Jesus, do I have to rip the words from your mouth? Which two paintings?”
His face blanched, his eyes widened, and everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath, including Cam. His eyes cast downward, Jesse mumbled, “The Botke painting and the one by Karl Albert Buehr.”
“Why wasn’t I notified immediately? You have my cell number.”
The desk chair slammed against the wall as Cam flew from the room. “Come with me, now,” she yelled as she raced through the halls. The thud and tap of shoe soles echoed behind her as the three staffers tried to catch up. At the arched doorway, Cam slid to a halt and peered into the room.
“Has anyone cont
acted Erin about this or called the police?” Cam demanded. She’d never had a call, so knew the answers to both questions she was forced to ask.
Meredith stepped up and said, “I called Erin at home. The housekeeper said she was out of town for the day. Then I tried your phone but it went directly to voice mail. Is your battery dead again, Cam?”
“Probably, I forget to charge the darned thing. Meredith, call the police. We’ll wait until they arrive before we enter the room. None of you have been in there since Guy found Jesse, right?”
Their heads bobbed in agreement. Meredith hurried away to make the call. While she was gone, Cam paced the hallway. Anxiety and alarm ran neck in neck all the while she waited for the police to arrive.
* * *
“Keep the doors locked until the police are finished with their preliminary investigation. Call our insurance company and let them know we’ve had a robbery. Don’t call Mr. Pimskin, I’ll handle that as soon as I’m finished here,” Cam instructed Meredith, who had managed to get her emotions under control. “Don’t say a word to anyone else, especially your new-found-friend, Mr. Forsyth, or I’ll fire your ass so fast you won’t know what hit you, understand?” Cam turned away from the startled woman and addressed the police officer awaiting her attention.
“If there is any, what’s the good news?” Cam asked him.
He was all business. Polite and to the point, the policeman said the room had been entered by someone who got past security without raising the alarm. Questions and answers had passed between the police and staffers. Crime scene technicians examined every inch of the room. One of the team drew a diagram of the space on his notepad, marking the space where the two pictures had hung, while another dusted for prints. A third man used a flashlight that beamed like a lighthouse beacon, to check every inch of the floor. Then he moved on to the walls surrounding the missing art.
Fascinated with the process, Cam watched in silence until the crew had gathered, discussed their findings and then left. She paid attention to what the officer said, and guided him to her office. As she neared the reception area, she asked Meredith to bring in coffee and walked on without awaiting an answer.
“If I may ask, Ms. Boucher, where is the owner today?” the policeman asked.
“Erin’s out of town on business. I called her before you arrived to tell her what’s happened. She’s on her way back to Greenwich. Why do you ask?”
“It’s unusual for the owner to be absent while we investigate a robbery, Ms. Boucher.”
She watched him glance at the walls, study the art hanging there and then turn his gaze back to her.
“I handle the workings of the gallery. Ms. Cameron stays in touch with what’s going on here. Other than that, she doesn’t have much to do with things.”
“You have a lot of responsibility, if you don’t mind me saying so,” he offered.
“True enough, but we’ve never had an incident like this, not ever in the history of the Cameron Gallery. It’s extremely upsetting, to say the least,” Cam confessed.
“I’m sure,” he said and turned to take the coffee Meredith offered him.
The two women glanced at one another before Cam thanked Meredith and watched her exit. A short rap on the door was followed by Guy’s entrance. She asked the officer to excuse her for a moment and followed Guy into the corridor.
Guy leaned in close and whispered, “Does he think it was a professional who stole the paintings?”
“He hasn’t said. Why do you ask?” Cam wondered aloud.
“Who else could get past our alarm system? Besides, Jesse wasn’t hurt bad, he was just knocked out for a bit.” Guy pulled his trousers up a tad, adjusted his belt buckle and puffed his chest out. “Looks like a professional heist to me.”
“Thanks for sharing that,” Cam said while she tried to hide a smirk. “I’ll keep you posted on the investigation.”
“Good, good. Thanks, Cam. I’ll be at my post even though we’re closed for the day.” With a nod and an all-knowing look, Guy sauntered off toward his end of the gallery.
“The help wondering what the police have come up with, Ms. Boucher?” the officer asked with a slight smile.
“We’re like family here,” she said with a light chuckle. “Everyone does their job, there’s no fighting among us, and this has thrown them a bit.”
“How about you? How thrown are you, Ms. Boucher?”
His eyes didn’t seem to miss a thing as he stared into hers. She drew in a breath and answered, “It’s more disturbing than anything I’ve ever dealt with. The worst of it is that I have to call Mr. Pimskin and tell him I’ve lost two of his most valued paintings. He’d loaned them to us for a couple months.” Cam flipped her hair from her shoulders and settled behind the desk once more. “Was any evidence collected that would point to the person who robbed us?”
“None that I know of. The thief was good, real good. If I had to guess, I’d say it was an inside job. Which brings me to my next question, how well do you know your staff, Ms. Boucher?”
“As well as anyone would know their employees. Do we ever really know what another person would resort to under certain circumstances?” she parried back.
“True. I see it all the time, but I had to ask. Where were you last night?” he asked with a sudden look of interest.
“Home, in bed from around midnight until five this morning.”
“Can anyone verify that?”
Cam gave the policeman a direct look and said evenly, “I live alone, so the answer would be no.”
Her answer seemed to please him, though she wondered why. Maybe he was interested in her or playing a game of cat and mouse. Either way, she wasn’t happy.
He rose and promised he’d be in touch when the reports were ready. Cam walked with him to the front door, waited until he started his cruiser and then locked up before she turned away. Her day had started on a crappy note and gone from bad to worse in a matter of hours. Not only did she have a robbery on her hands, she was playing a part that could come back and bite her in the ass.
Maybe Erin needed to move to Europe and leave Cam to run things as she did now. Cam smiled at the idea. Although, Cam might do well in Europe and Erin could step in. As she passed Meredith’s desk, she stopped and said in a cool tone, “I know I was short with you earlier, Meredith. I won’t apologize for it. It’s important that we keep our opinions of the staff and owner to ourselves and not offer them to strangers. Especially if that stranger is trying to make a move on the gallery. If Erin got wind of your actions, she’d probably fire you on the spot. Keep your own council, I mean it.”
“I’m sorry, Cam. I didn’t think before I spoke. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
With a nod, Cam headed toward the roped-off entrance where Guy stood at attention. She smiled and asked if he needed a break.
“No, no, I’m fine,” Guy insisted.
“We’re closed for today. Jesse will have to take the night off, I don’t want him to work after he’s been injured. I’ll call the security agency we usually use for our openings and see if they can send somebody over. You can leave at your usual time, Guy.”
“You’re sure? I don’t mind staying the night, Cam,” Guy offered.
“It won’t be necessary. Thanks for offering,” Cam grinned and returned to her office. After she’d called the security company and arranged for guards to be sent, she dialed Mr. Pimskin’s personal phone number.
Chapter 7
AS EXPECTED, THE call had gone poorly. Mr. Pimskin was quite verbal in his anger over the loss of both paintings. He wasn’t interested in insurance money. He wanted his paintings back and Erin didn’t blame him. He made threats, accusations, and more until Cam managed to calm him down. She’d been on the edge of losing her own temper but then realized how she’d feel if the loss were hers instead of art loaned to her gallery.
After a half hour of soothing Mr. Pimskin’s ruffled feathers, Cam hung up and slumped back in her chair. Good grief, what
a day. She leaned her head against the headrest and let out a huge sigh, rubbed her face and longed to yank the wig from her head and heave it against the wall. Frustration ran rampant as Cam considered all the angles of her situation.
She flicked her mental list of problems off, counting one finger at a time. She’d pretended to be someone who didn’t exist. Famous art had been lifted from beneath the guard’s nose at the gallery. Meredith was gossiping to the enemy. The enemy was trying to rack up points by turning the help against Erin, and Cam was armpit deep in shit. “That about covers it,” she muttered and lifted the phone from its charger.
The number rang again and again until a winded Mrs. Hardy answered the call. “Hello?” she puffed into the phone.
“Where were you, Mrs. Hardy?”
“In the cellar. The wine delivery was made today and I had the man take the cases to the wine cellar. I hurried to answer the phone. Is something wrong, Miss Erin?”
“I’ll be home late. There was an art theft here last night and I’ll need to go over the floor plan with the security team that’s coming in for the next few days. Don’t hold supper for me. I’m not sure what time I’ll arrive.”
“Oh my. Was anyone hurt?”
“Jesse Comber was knocked unconscious, but other than that, he’s fine. He probably has one hell of a headache,” Erin responded.
“Oh, that’s terrible.” Mrs. Hardy sighed heavily and then offered, “I’ll leave your dinner in the fridge, dear.”
“Thank you, and don’t wait up, okay?”
“All right, I won’t. Be careful coming home.”
The line went dead and Cam plunked the phone in its stand. She hauled a stack of paperwork forward, waded through most of it and answered the knock on the door with a loud, “Come in.”
Cam glanced up as three security guards strode into her office. The tallest man informed her they’d been sent by Syms Security Company. Cam checked their identification, nodded and motioned for them to sit. Briefly, she explained what was expected of them.
