by Jane Tesh
“Well, I don’t know where it is.”
“You’d better not be lying to me!”
Mason came charging out of the office and down the hallway. He was so angry he didn’t see me. I followed him. He ran down the stairs and smacked the glass door open. He paused on the sidewalk, taking deep breaths, his fists clenched.
“Mr. Mason,” I called cheerfully, “glad I caught you.” As he whirled around, I said, “I brought Anguished Fortitude from the Riverside Museum.”
He took a moment to get control of his emotions. “Oh, thank you! I’ve been meaning to pick it up, since it obviously isn’t wanted,” he added darkly. “Where is it?”
“It’s in the trunk of my car. I can bring it by the museum, or we can transfer it to your car.”
He paused. “If you’d be so kind as to bring it by the museum. Not just now, though. You’ll have to excuse me. I’ve just had an extremely frustrating meeting with Ms. Piper. You’ve been to the Little Gallery. You’ve seen the lack of visitors. How is my work ever going to be noticed by people if there aren’t any people to notice it? I keep trying to convince Nancy to get my work into the Parkland Museum, but she refuses to help me. This on top of Baseford’s horrid criticisms—it’s a wonder I can create at all.”
So Baseford had gotten to him, too. “Ms. Maxwell said you and Nancy worked together at the Riverside Museum.”
“Yes, worked together back when we wanted only the best for each other.” His voice was bitter. “I was there for her all during her divorce, and she encouraged me through some very rough artistic patches. I am very disappointed our relationship has become so strained.”
“You’re cousins, right?”
“Distant cousins.” He didn’t say, why the hell would you want to know that? But he was thinking it. If somewhere along the line he was a Duvall, he had to be adding things up. “Thank you so much for bringing Anguished Fortitude home. If you’ll excuse me.”
I started to go inside the museum, glancing back in time to see him take out his phone, jab in a number, and start a terse conversation.
“It’s time,” I heard him say. “Do it now.”
Oh, I’d set something in motion and it wasn’t a rusty piece of metal.
I went up to Nancy’s office and knocked on the door. Nancy was composed, arranging papers on her desk into a neat stack.
“Oh, hello, David.”
“The Mason rocket just launched past me. What was that all about?”
She stacked the papers again and set them aside. “We’ve had this discussion a thousand times. Richard wants his work displayed here, and right now there’s nowhere to put it. He thinks we should move something out to make room for his sculptures. I think his sculptures are fine where they are.”
So this was their cover story. Mason’s outrage about his art had been genuine, though.
Nancy picked up her tablet. “I’m going to check on some things. Care to come with me?”
We walked down to the statue gallery, a long pale-blue hallway filled with marble and bronze figures. Nancy touched in notes on the tablet. Today’s admiring outfit was a tight jade-green suit over a tight gold bodysuit. Her glasses had green frames that matched her suit.
“I didn’t realize you and Mason were related,” I said.
Her expression gave nothing away. “Oh, some distant cousin.”
I followed her past two more marble fauns and a javelin thrower. We paused for Nancy to check an odd sculpture that looked like a bird, but when I approached it from the other side, it looked more like a fish. “What’s this?”
“That’s a piece by a contemporary artist, Jon Vass. He calls it Fulfillment.”
“Looks like a bird on one side and a fish on the other.”
“Keep looking.”
“Now I see an insect of some kind and maybe a girl’s face?”
“Vass says people see what they want to see, like finding familiar shapes in the clouds. He has a painting with a similar theme in one of the other galleries. It’s a whole shelf of books, but the closer you look, the more objects you see, until it’s no longer books. The kids enjoy it. It’s like one of those hidden objects puzzles.”
Art that’s hidden within art.
We moved to a large display case where a light flickered. Nancy frowned. “I thought I fixed that.”
The case was full of tiny Japanese sculptures, owls, turtles, and fat little fishermen. One of the lights was having an epileptic fit. Nancy dug into her pocket and brought out a key. She set her tablet down and unlocked the case. In a few minutes, she had twisted some wires and wiggled the bulb and the light remained steady.
Did everyone on the museum board have a degree in electronics? “You’re pretty good with that.”
She locked the case and retrieved her tablet. “You have to know a little of everything to keep a place like this running.” She brushed her hand on her skirt. “This whole case needs rewiring.”
“Would you be able to do that?”
“I think so. It’s fairly simple.”
Nothing about this case was fairly simple.
I picked up Kary for lunch and took her to How Soon’s House of Food where we sat down in one of the red leather booths in the dim little restaurant and enjoyed chicken lo mein, fried rice, and sweet and sour pork. I told her about the argument I’d overheard and how Mason had called someone to “Do it now.”
“Sounds like something’s getting ready to happen,” she said.
“It also sounds like they don’t have the artwork and can’t solve the puzzle, just like us. But Nancy was angry Mason wasn’t following the plan, so they have a plan. If only this plan would lead to proof against them.”
She wound the last long lo mein noodle around her chopstick. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I didn’t find any Duvalls in Mason’s background, either.”
“How about the puzzle letters?”
“Oh, I’ve made dozens of words, but still no combination makes sense.” The waiter brought a little tray of fortune cookies, and she thanked him. “Maybe the answer’s in here.” She broke open a cookie and pulled out the little paper. “Okay, mine says, ‘There will be great changes in your life.’ An excellent fortune. It goes right along with my career plans.”
I chose a cookie, broke it, and unfolded the paper. “Mine says, ‘You will get your wish.’”
“That sounds nice. What do you wish for—besides an answer to this case?”
What did I wish for? Well, Kary, of course, but here she was, thank goodness. To solve the case? I was getting closer to an answer. To find the dragonfly and end the curse? Hopefully that was part of the answer. But on a more personal note, like Camden, didn’t I want a family? But I had a family, didn’t I? I had an almost wife, a somewhat brother, a couple of large redneck cousins, and a daughter on The Other Side.
Kary waited expectantly, so I said, “I don’t know about a wish, but things are pretty good right now.”
How had that article about Renoir put it? “A dream of what life could be—or sometimes is for a moment.”
I could deal with that.
“Camden said Ellin wanted him for another hour at the fair. I haven’t had a chance to see the fair,” she said. “How is it?”
“We can stop by right now,” I said. “Prepare to be amazed.”
The fair was surprisingly crowded for early afternoon. We wandered around, checking things out when Ellin came over. I never thought pink was her color, because when I think of pink, I think of things that are sweet and soft and nice, but she looked very good in a pink suit and white blouse. Even her shoes and stockings were pink. She looked like some very sexy cotton candy.
“Things are going really well, Ellin.”
Any snide remarks she had planned for me died in the light of this compliment. “Thank you. Over three hundred peopl
e, so far.”
“Is Camden here?”
“Yes, he’s at his table. Kit just stopped by, too.”
“I see you have a glassblower,” Kary said. “I didn’t expect that at a psychic fair.”
“He’s a psychic glassblower. Angels, UFOs, and unicorns.”
“I’ll have to check this out, David. Be right back.”
Ellin watched her go. Then, abruptly, she said, “You and I both know Cam is a terrible liar. He’s still taking those pills. Maybe it’s Tranquillon, maybe it’s not. He’s getting something from somewhere!”
“Okay, calm down and tell me what’s going on.”
There was an announcement that a demonstration of Celtic music was about to begin. The crowd shifted. Ellin and I moved out of the way behind a table full of brochures trumpeting the merits of channeling your own past selves.
Ellin straightened the already-straight stacks of brochures. “He’s way too calm. It’s like he’s sleepwalking. Tamara said he’d been like that all morning.”
“Tranquillon’s taking its time getting out of his system.”
“I don’t think so.” She set down the next stack of brochures with more than enough force. “I will never understand why he considers his gift such a burden, why he feels he has to go to such lengths to suppress it. He’s helped so many people, seen so many good things. I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to be psychic.”
Since this was what she wanted more than anything, her statement was not surprising. “I’ll talk to him. What’s the latest on Graber? Has he been causing any more trouble at the station?”
“I don’t want to talk about Matt Graber.”
One of her assistants ran up. “Ms. Belton, you need to come right away. Cam is—you need to see this!”
Ellin hurried off with me close behind. Ballroom A was filled with amazed fairgoers gaping at the little tables that flew about, their starry tablecloths flapping like wings. Joining the tables were flocks of Tarot cards, colors flashing as they wheeled and swirled above. Kit was grinning, but the other psychics, the palm readers, and the shamans stood a cautious distance back from Camden, who stood in the middle of this whirlwind, fireworks blazing in his eyes.
“And now, this!” He waved a hand and the tables dipped and swerved and then landed. The tablecloths billowed like parachutes and settled back onto the tables. “And this!” The cards sailed down to form little houses that then collapsed into neat stacks. There was a huge round of applause. Camden bowed and so did the chairs.
Ellin, torn between concern and delight, waited until the applause died down. “Thank you, Camden. Everyone, I’m glad you enjoyed this special demonstration.”
“Oh, I’m not finished,” he said. “Let me see how many of you folks I can lift.”
A few members of the crowd stepped forward eagerly, but Ellin caught his arm. “We don’t have flying insurance, Cam. That was enough for now.”
He gave her a big kiss and spun her around. “I feel terrific. What else would you like me to do? Want to dance? I feel like dancing.”
Ellin gave me a frantic glance. After the rush came the crash. Might as well get ready. “Camden,” I said, “why don’t you come with me and sit down for a while? Kit can take over for you here.”
Kit was all admiration. “You have got to teach me how to do that, Cam.”
“Maybe later,” I told him. “Just give these people regular psychic advice, will you?”
Kit sat down at one of the little tables where a line formed immediately. Ellin and I took Camden to the hallway. A few Tarot cards fluttered behind him like sparrows hoping for a handout, but he was already deflating. By the time we sat him down in one of the chairs, the fireworks faded and the cards spiraled to the carpet.
“I don’t understand,” Ellin said. “He was calm earlier. I told you, too calm.”
“He must have had another power surge,” I said. This one hadn’t been as intense. “That’s what happened, isn’t it, Camden?”
“Whew! What a rush.” He sat forward and put his head in his hands. “I felt it coming, and it took over before I could stop it.”
“You’re back a lot sooner,” I said. “Maybe the surges are decreasing.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t sound convinced.
Ellin gave him a hug. “Kit can fill in for you until you feel better.”
I wasn’t surprised by her insistence he stay. I offered to take him home, but he said he was okay. When Kary returned from the glassblower’s booth, I filled her in on the latest telekinetic spectacle. She gave Camden one last worried look as we walked away. “What are we going to do?”
“Why don’t you and I see if we can find his stash?”
At home, we searched all the drawers and closets, all the kitchen cabinets, and behind all the books in the bookcase. I even felt down behind the sofa cushions, and Kary looked in the piano bench.
She let the lid fall with a bang. “What is he taking and where did he get it? That’s what I want to know.”
“Leave him to Ellin.”
After about an hour, we gave up our search. Kary had to get to her pageant rehearsal. Camden and Ellin came in much later and climbed the stairs without a word. I figured they’d hammered things out in the car. I’d have to wait until tomorrow to see who’d won the drug war. My money was on Ellin.
Chapter Twenty-one
“Sorrow, Stay”
I would’ve lost my money.
Ellin was in full-blown tornado mode the next morning. I was waiting for my toast to pop up when she stormed into the kitchen. “I can’t believe he doesn’t see what’s happening!”
“I take it you couldn’t convince him?”
She managed to get most of her coffee in her cup. “He insists nothing’s wrong and refuses to go see a doctor.” She stirred the coffee with enough force to create a whirlpool. “I can’t deal with this right now. I have to make certain the fair is a success or we will all be out of house and home, and Graber will have won.”
I took a seat at the counter to avoid any explosions. “Can you calm down for a minute? I know you’re the primary breadwinner here, but we’re not approaching financial ruin.”
“Have you seen the household expenses for this month?”
“I’ve still got a little money from my last case. We’re not in any danger of going under—well, Camden might be, but we’ll get him out.”
Usually, Camden is the recipient of her sudden emotional turnarounds, but this time, I got the full benefit. She burst into tears.
“Whoa, hold on!” I grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter. “Ellin, it’s okay. He’ll be all right.”
She snatched the tissue and wiped her eyes. “He won’t listen to me. Last night, he didn’t say anything. He went to bed, and he’s still asleep, or pretending to be.”
“When does he ever listen to you?”
I was trying to lighten the mood, but her glare told me I was pushing it. “I know you think I care more about my job than I do about Cam, but if he’s shut me off, I can’t do any good staying at home, moping around and waiting for him to snap out of it.” She gulped back a few more tears. “He hasn’t been singing, either.”
Lindsey had said the same thing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard him burst into song. Usually, I have to tell him to give it a rest.
“What can we do, Randall?”
“You’re going to go to work and take care of the fair. I’m going to continue my investigations and see if Camden’s trying out some new drug, and where he’s getting it. Once we cut off his supply, he’ll have no choice but to quit.” I didn’t tell her I still hoped Graber’s snakes would put in an appearance.
Her voice was wobbly. “That’s a pretty good plan.” She tossed the tissue into the garbage can and took a drink of coffee. “I guess I’ve been a little stressed lately.
”
“A little.”
“You’ll keep me posted.”
“Sure thing.”
“Thanks.” She took another drink and set the cup down. She gathered her purse and her attaché case from one of the dining room chairs. Before she left, she paused as if she’d like to express a little more gratitude, but one thank you was all I was going to get.
As Ellin hurried out, Vermillion drifted in, beads jingling, her red hair tied back with a paisley scarf.
“Hey,” she said, “Wally says you encouraged him to ask me out. That was real nice of you.”
“I thought you two might be able to make a rainbow connection.”
“Yeah, well, we did, thanks.” She settled onto a stool at the counter.
“Vermillion, do you know what Camden is taking now?”
She shook her head causing her giant hoop earrings to clunk against the sides of her head. “Told you, I’m clean.”
“Has anyone been by the house, anyone you might not have seen before?”
“I’ve been in the park, so I don’t know.”
“When you’re here, will you be on the lookout?”
“You want me to tune in to what’s happening?”
“Yes, for real.” My phone rang. The caller ID said, Parkland Herald. I didn’t recognize the caller’s voice.
“I found something you might be looking for.”
Could this possibly be a breakthrough? “Who is this?”
“Baseford’s office. A green box on the bookshelf behind his desk.”
I started to ask another question, but the man hung up. “That was about the case, Vermillion. I’d better get bookin’.”
I’d gotten into my car when my phone beeped again. It was Pierson.
“Randall, I’ve had the most amazing phone call. Someone said I should look in a green box in Chance Baseford’s office. What could it mean?”
“I had a similar call. I’ll meet you there.”
“Is it possible Baseford has my Art Nouveau? But what could he possibly hope to gain? Everyone knows those things are mine. I don’t understand any of this!”
