"That's identical twins for you," I pointed out.
"We're not one hundred percent identical but pretty damn close," said Tammy. "Plus, our parents always celebrated our individuality. No dressing us up in matching frocks and hair ribbons."
"Although there were plenty of times that I remember when we both wanted the same dress." I pointed at Tammy's sweatshirt, which was the same as mine. "I guess we still like the same things."
"I guess we do," said Tammy, laughing. She smiled at me warmly. "I bet we have more in common than we realize. I'm sorry my moods are so off since you got here. I haven't been feeling my best."
"There's plenty of time to enjoy what we do have in common," I told her. "We'll start with the margaritas and take it from there."
"I just love this artwork," called Jill from the hallway. "There's so much of it everywhere!"
"Wait until you see the art room," called Tammy. We both turned and walked towards Jill who was standing several steps higher on the staircase, admiring the surfeit of artwork.
"There's an art room?" asked Jill.
"Didn't Vanessa tell you?" Tammy turned to me.
"I'm sure I mentioned Aunt Edie was an artist. She taught art classes and hosted retreats here, back when the house was an inn. She used the rear sitting room for her classes, the one where the two kittens are currently living. That's the room that leads to the sunroom. Nate took all the artwork down because he needs to redo the walls."
"I'd love to see some of it," said Jill. She pointed to one of the paintings on the staircase wall, a small landscape in oil. "I'm sure this is by an artist that was popular in the seventies. There's been some recent critical interest in his work."
"Is it valuable?" asked Tammy.
"Oh, no, not really. Maybe a few hundred dollars. If it's by the painter I'm thinking of, he isn't highly skilled or well-known but he has a charming quality in his paintings that is really… well, endearing."
"Most everything in the art room was done by Aunt Edie's guests and clients," I told her. "We stacked all of it up along the wall. My friend, Danielle, is going to take it all to the town museum for a new exhibit they're putting together."
"I think I'll take a look if I may. If there's anymore by this artist, I might be interested in showing them to my gallery. I have a client who really likes this artist and I can only imagine how glad he would be to discover something never seen before like this."
"Help yourself! We found some canvases in the garage too but I don't know what condition they're in."
"It's so exciting to uncover treasures!" Jill grinned broadly as she hurried down the stairs, and went to the sitting room.
"Look out for the kittens. They’re professional escape artists," I called after her.
"The kids have not stopped bugging me to take a look at the kittens," said Tammy. "Do you mind if I see them and take a photo? I think we'll probably take one and they’d be thrilled if I returned home tomorrow carrying it in my arms."
"Let's go. Mallory, are you coming?" I asked.
"I'll be with you in a second," she said, staring at her phone and waving us on.
"Would you look at these?" cooed Tammy as she scooped a kitten from the floor before it escaped through the door Jill opened. Jill grabbed the second kitten and it purred and snuggled against her. "And this one too. They’re simply adorable!"
"Why aren't you keeping them?" asked Jill. "They're the sweetest kittens."
"I know they are but I don't think I'm in a position to take care of a pet right now. It's a long-term commitment."
"You just told us you're staying here! Isn’t that a long-term commitment?" asked Jill.
I nodded. "True but these kittens could end up being a ten or twenty-year commitment. I need to put more thought into it."
"Don't think about it anymore," said Tammy as she reached to tickle the other kitten. "They're both coming home with me in the morning! You can be Aunt Vanessa to them."
I threw my hands up in the air and laughed, the tension instantly easing from me. "Problem solved!"
Jill passed Tammy the other kitten as she walked over to the artwork stacked against the wall. Canvas after canvas lay beneath the protective cloth thrown over the top. I helped her pull it back and she bent down, rifling through them as Tammy and I took the kittens into the sunroom. Tammy put them down and they scooted around the floor chasing a strip of light.
From the sitting room, Jill gasped.
"Are you okay?" I called.
"Yes. Yes, I’m fine," she replied, her voice wobbling.
"Did you knock something over? Or hurt yourself?" I asked.
"Oh no, nothing like that. Ignore me... Oh! Oh!"
Tammy and I exchanged a puzzled look before returning to the art room. Jill was on her knees, an expression of wonder spreading across her face as she pulled out a canvas. She carefully placed it beside the other two already facing up on the floor.
"Is it that artist you recognized?" I asked. "Did you find another one?"
"Any money you get from the sales will help with the renovations," said Tammy to me. "How exciting!"
"No, it's not him... it's... I have to keep looking," said Jill. She shuffled on her knees as she searched the canvases, occasionally pulling one out and setting it on the floor gently. When she was finished, she knelt over the small collection, inspecting them carefully. "Amazing," she muttered every so often. "Absolutely amazing."
"Do you think the town museum will want to exhibit them?" I asked. Jill simply laughed.
Mallory walked in and frowned at the sight of Jill surrounded by canvases. "Ooh!" she squealed when she saw the kittens following us into the sitting room.
"Don't let them near the artwork," yelled Jill, holding up her hand.
I scooped up the kitten attempting to sit on my left sneaker and Tammy ran after the other one, catching it as it tried to dodge between the canvases, causing Jill to hyperventilate.
"I never thought I'd find anything like this in my entire career, never," said Jill as she rocked back onto her heels.
"Are they that awful?" I asked. "I always liked the blue one."
"I drew on that landscape when I was seven." Tammy pointed at the largest of the canvases and laughed as Jill clasped a hand to her mouth and looked like she was about to cry. "Do you remember, Vanny? I signed my name right next to that funny squiggle."
"Oh, yes. Aunt Edie said we had to paint our own pictures and sign them instead, not other people's pictures, but she did laugh." I smiled at the memory.
"It's fixable," muttered Jill without looking up. "I know it is."
"Jill, honey, you're shaking," said Mallory.
Jill looked up, and the astonishment on her face was undeniable. "Do you have any idea what you have here?" she asked, looking directly at me. "Any idea at all?"
"A bunch of old paintings that I can’t decide where to hang?" I replied. "I'm grateful Danielle asked the museum to take care of them while I track down the artists from Aunt Edie's classes."
"Does Danielle have any art training?" asked Jill, frowning suddenly. "Maybe an art history degree? Or does she work in a gallery?"
"Yes, she works in a gallery in Seattle."
"What has got you so worked up?" asked Mallory. "The last time you looked this excited was when I told you we had tickets for Beyoncé."
"Did your aunt ever tell you where she got these?" Jill asked, waving her hand over the canvases. She began to pick them up, laying them carefully across the spines of the other stacked paintings.
"Mostly from her classes but I know she picked some of them up in Europe," I told her.
"She spent some time in an artists' colony, somewhere in the Mediterranean," added Tammy.
"Sardinia, off the coast of Italy," I added.
"That fits perfectly!" said Jill, nodding. "This smaller painting is by the same artist in the hallway. I recognized it immediately from some rare sketches I've seen. That was thrilling enough but these five? These are the discovery of a lifetime!
People in my line of work tell legends about finding lost treasures of art like this."
"What in the world are you talking about?" I asked.
"These three are by an artist called JJ Lodge. He's currently recognized as one of the masters of his era, especially for his oils. His watercolors are beautiful too but his oils are worth the most money and very hard to find. Every so often, one appears at an auction or an estate sale and becomes available for the public to bid on, but to find three! Three! And then I noticed these two. This artist is French and these appear to be from the last years of his life. It's well documented that he frequented a particular European island for painting purposes, and if it's the same one where your aunt stayed, I'm sure there will be no issue documenting the provenance of these paintings."
"I found some old diaries in the attic," I told her. "Maybe Aunt Edie wrote something about those artists in them."
"Are they worth much?" asked Tammy.
"Oh, yes," breathed Jill.
"How much?" asked Mallory. "More than the one on the staircase wall?"
"Much, much more," said Jill. She leaned over the paintings again, careful not to touch the surface. "They will need some cleaning and this one needs a little restoration but that won't affect their value."
"So, what are we talking? Hundreds of dollars?" I asked.
Jill shook her head and gulped. "Hundreds of thousands of dollars!"
I blinked in disbelief. "I don't think I heard you correctly."
"There must be a million dollars worth of art in here. Maybe more if the market gets into a bidding war."
"This is a joke, right?" I said. I looked at Jill and Mallory for any signs of them preparing to burst into peals of raucous laughter. "You two cooked this up on the flight over here, didn't you?"
"First time I'm hearing about it," said Mallory as Jill shook her head.
"Sis, I think Jill is serious!" Tammy held out her cellphone. "I just entered the artist's name into my web browser and it’s the same style and they have the sale prices listed."
I took it and scrolled down the page. I had to admit that the artwork I inherited looked nearly identical to the artwork on the small screen. The sales figures were eye-wateringly steep.
"Do you mind if I take some photos and send them to my boss? She has got to see these," said Jill.
"Go ahead."
"And you should call your friend. This art belongs in a museum like the Guggenheim not in a small-town gallery. I'm not insulting your gallery," Jill added quickly as she glanced to me, "but they couldn't afford the insurance premiums on paintings like these. We should arrange to have them crated up and shipped to my gallery as soon as possible. With your permission, of course."
"I don't know what to say."
"Say no," said a voice behind me. A sharp click behind me made me freeze. I knew that sound too well. There was no mistaking it. Slowly, I turned and paled. Danielle was standing in the entrance, a handgun trained on us. Gone were any traces of warmth or friendliness; now she looked stone cold.
"Danielle? What are you doing?" asked Tammy, her face flooding with confusion.
"Those are my paintings," said Danielle.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, more than bewildered.
"Let me rephrase that, those paintings are coming with me." She tossed some rolls of bubble wrap and tape on the floor. "I recognized them as soon as Terry showed them to me. No one thought they were valuable except me. I’ve earned the rights to all of them."
"How do you know Terry?" I asked.
"I met him back when we were kids," Danielle said. "His family used to live on the same street as mine. He was always sweet on me, even back then, and he kept in touch after his Mom moved them away. He came back one summer when we were in high school, and a few months ago, I ran into him in Seattle. He just walked into my gallery one day and we started talking. He told me how miserly Edie was to him and how your family threw him out."
"He was caught stealing from Edie," said Tammy. She shut up when Danielle pointed the gun at her.
"Like Edie couldn't spare a few dollars! Terry was family. You all have no idea what it's like growing up poor in this town, do you? I have had to watch you all go through merrily your college funds, never having to scrimp and save for every penny! Not like I did to get out of here."
"You came back here, just like me," I said. "And your family owns a great house."
"They nearly lost it when my dad got laid off. They had to take out loans upon loans when my mom got sick during junior high, not that any of you ever noticed. They're still paying off the mortgages." Danielle shook her head. "I only came back long enough to get the rare paintings and leave. You weren't even scheduled to return for another week, Vanessa. Terry found out Edie died and showed me some old pictures of her. He just wanted to talk about her but I recognized one of the paintings in a photo. Then he told me there were more at the house. Those paintings could have set us both up for life."
"You two were going to steal them!" I said, realizing the sinister plot now. That was what they wanted all along! Paintings that were right under my nose, and which I didn't even realize were so valuable.
Danielle nodded. "Terry and I came back here and he scouted around. The house was abandoned and way overgrown. We planned to break in, get the paintings, and be gone before anyone even realized we entered. Nobody would miss the paintings because you were all too stupid and ignorant to realize what they were."
"You could also sell them legitimately because no one would ever know they were stolen," said Jill.
"That's right! I could say I found them at a thrift shop or a yard sale or anything I dreamed up. No one would challenge that. We'd just be two smart people with a good eye for rare paintings."
"Then I came back and spoiled your little plan," I said before I gulped, realizing what else I missed. "You were with Terry that night!"
"Oh, my gosh!" Tammy's hand flew to her mouth. "You killed him!"
"He was getting to be such a pain in the ass. He wanted more money for one thing," huffed Danielle. "He wanted me too. He insisted we get married. I might have liked him when I was a kid, but why would I bother to marry him now? I would have been so rich, I didn’t need him or anyone else. We fought over it and the gun just went off. I didn't mean to kill him but I'm not the least bit sorry he's dead. He was a real pain in the ass."
"You won't get away with this," said Mallory. "We all heard your confession and the police are right outside."
"The police? I sent them away already. All I had to do was place a call to the police department and pretend to be Vanessa."
"You tried to break in," I said, realizing she was behind all the attempts to frighten me away. "And you left that dead cat in the fridge!" Behind me, I heard my friends gasp.
"But did stupid you get the message? No!" Danielle reached into her pocket and pulled up a handful of zip-ties. She tossed them onto the floor where they fell with a light rattle. "Vanessa, put those on everyone’s wrists," she said, aiming the gun at me again. "Everyone, put your hands behind your backs and Vanessa, be sure to pull the ties good and tight. I don't want any of you getting any funny ideas of escaping."
“How did you even get in?” I asked as I hurried to grab the zip-ties, my heart thumping wildly. Danielle had to realize she couldn't get away with this, not now! The four of us knew her plan, as well as what she had already done. It would only be a matter of time before Nate returned and freed us. We could also raise the alarm when Tia and Melissa turned up, which could be at any minute. Danielle could never sell the paintings.
Danielle shrugged. "It was easy. I just made a copy when you were in the attic and I came downstairs to the kitchen to get drinks."
Lacking any other options, I secured Tammy's hands and those of my friends behind their backs with the zip-ties, tightening them a tad when Danielle yelled at me, and wondering what she could have possibly planned next. A jolt of fear snaked its way up my spine. Would she shoot us in cold bl
ood while our hands were tied behind our backs? With only mine free now, I had to find some way to overpower her. If I lunged for her, she could easily, and no doubt, fatally, shoot me.
"Grab that bubble wrap and cover up the paintings," she said. "Tape them securely. Then you and I are going out to my car."
"Danielle, you must realize this is over," I told her. "Detective Logan will see exactly what you've done."
"That hick detective?" Danielle snorted. "The biggest crime he can solve around here is finding a litterbug! I’m definitely getting away with this. I'm going to make sure none of you ever speak a word about this and I'm gonna be... ugh!" The gun fired and we all dropped onto the floor as Danielle suddenly slumped to her knees. She did a full faceplant, and appeared to be unconscious.
Behind her stood Leonard. He was holding Edie's margarita pitcher aloft. "Am I an unlikely hero or what?" he squeaked. He gazed down at Danielle and pulled a face.
"You're my hero," I said, throwing my arms around him as my sister insisted that someone cut her loose immediately.
"Do you think I can be their hero too?" Leonard whispered gleefully as he bobbed his head towards the front of the house.
I released him, craning my neck to see to whom he referred. Nate and Detective Logan ran towards us with their mouths agape. Nate scooped me in his arms and Detective Logan rushed past, pulling his gun out. He kicked Danielle's gun aside and checked her pulse. "She's still alive," he said grimly.
"Oh, well," said Leonard. "I guess I should have hit her harder. Detective Logan, you're just going to have to take me in for questioning." He held his wrists out. Detective Logan sighed and shook his head.
Chapter Twenty-One
"Wow!" Tammy and I gaped at the check Jill placed in my hands only moments ago.
"Every last piece sold," said Jill, smiling. "The whole art world is abuzz with gossip and exaggerations about the surprising discovery."
"I don't know how I can ever thank you!"
"You already have! Anyway, I got a promotion as well as an amazing story I can roll out at every dinner party for the rest of my life. I'm just thrilled that I got to be part of the plot. Hidden treasures, your aunt's diaries about the artist colony that corroborated everything, your cousin’s murder, and attempted art theft, and a killer who is now under lock and key. This story really had everything you could want!"
Alibi in April (Calendar Mysteries Book 4) Page 20
