Death by Dragonfly

by Jane Tesh

  He grabbed the ashtray. “Oh, my God! I can’t believe this! Nancy Piper?”

  “Any idea where she would go?”

  “She’d have to find a safe place to hide the dragonfly,” Pierson said. Or,” he added with a tremor in his voice, “the curse will destroy her and we’ll never find it.”

  “Forget the curse. She and Richard Mason have been behind this whole thing, and so has Patricia Ashworthy. We have to figure where she would go now. Camden?”

  He rubbed his forehead. “I saw you needed help, but things are still fuzzy.”

  I tried to think where Nancy would go. She wouldn’t leave Leslie. If she was planning to run, she’d have to get her daughter. Someone in the museum had to know.

  Then it hit me. Not a vision or some psychic blast. A real solid memory. Nancy had said Leslie’s scout troop was going to the psychic fair on Saturday.

  “I know where she is.” I leaned over the seat. “Camden, call Jordan. Pierson, the Ramada Inn, as fast as you can.”

  His bulging eyes gleamed with superhero fervor “At once!”

  There must have been a two-for-one special on past lives today, because the fair was packed. Loads of kids and teenagers, plus a senior citizens group and dozens of psychic salesmen crowded the convention rooms. We got to the doorway and Camden’s knees gave way.

  “It’s here,” he gasped as we hauled him up.

  I dumped him in the nearest chair. “You stay out here.” I turned to Pierson. “Let’s split up. No questions. If you see Nancy, grab her.”

  Pierson set forth like a clipper ship parting the waves of people.

  I plunged into the crowd. People were standing in long lines to have their fortunes told and to buy the crystals, feathers, and other psychic stuff. “Excuse me. Excuse me, please.” I pushed through, looking for short spiky red hair. She had to be with a group of scouts, trying to get Leslie. Then what? Would they hop a plane and fly off to Mexico?

  I didn’t want to think about it. I kept inching my way past the tables and booths. Maybe she was in the other ballroom. I squeezed past a group of gypsies and another group of Moonie clones to get to the hallway, which was just as crowded. I saw kids bunched up by the angel display, but I didn’t see any in scout uniforms. Maybe we were too late. Maybe she and her mom had already made their getaway.

  No, Camden had said the dragonfly was here, and I knew, after his reaction, it was here.

  The other ballroom was as hot and crowded as the first one. I looked all around, and there she was, pulling Leslie along with her. The little girl’s face was puzzled. Nancy’s was set in stone. I couldn’t reach her by running down the aisle. I couldn’t push past so many people. There was only one other way—up and over.

  I’d been wondering where Ellin was. I found out when I jumped up on the nearest table, a table containing magical herbs and spices, and ran along the top, sending little jars and bottles bouncing everywhere and crunching bundles of aromatic weeds underfoot.

  “Randall! What the hell are you doing?”

  Nancy heard Ellin scream my name. She whirled around, saw me charging down the display tables, scattering crystals, amulets, and books to the anger and dismay of the sellers. She turned and pushed her way frantically through the crowd.

  “Pierson! She’s coming your way!”

  People screamed and yelled and began to panic in all directions. Pierson made a grab for Nancy, but missed. He landed with a huge crash onto a display of crystal balls that went careening everywhere like giant marbles. There was another banshee cry from Ellin.

  “What the hell is going on? Stop it! Stop it!”

  Pierson managed to grab Nancy’s foot, but she shook him off, leaving him holding a high heel. She stopped for a second to kick off the other shoe and ran right into the gypsies, who were coming to see what all the screaming was about. In the mass confusion, I ran along the rest of the tables, skidded on a starry tablecloth, and slid off the end, taking out a whole family of ceramic dragons and landing with a thud.

  By now, half the crowd was up against the walls, watching with wide eyes and probably thinking it was some sort of psychic show. The other half fled out the fire exits. Teachers rounded up their kids, who were clapping and cheering. Nancy pushed past the gypsies. I scrambled to my feet and ran after her. This time, everyone gave me plenty of room. She was halfway down the hall when I tackled her. We hit hard and rolled on the carpet.

  She pounded me with her fists. “Damn you! Let me go!”

  “You stole the dragonfly. You locked me in the storage room. When you saw me, you ran. What am I supposed to think?”

  She didn’t answer because two security men grabbed us and pulled us upright. They didn’t look like they would believe anything I had to say. Pierson came huffing up.

  “This young woman has stolen my property!”

  Nancy straightened her clothes. “I don’t have anything that belongs to you. Your artwork is in the museum, safe and sound.”

  “But my dragonfly—”

  She raised her hands, revealing her skin-tight blouse and skirt. “Does it look like I have a dragonfly on me?”

  What had she done with it? “Why did you run?” I asked. “Why lock the door?”

  She glared. “You were talking crazy. I was afraid.”

  I could see the security guards measuring her petite height against mine. She took Leslie’s hand. Throughout the whole chase, the little girl hadn’t made a sound. She stood beside her mother, eyes wide. “If there are no further questions, I’d like to take Leslie and go home now.”

  I spoke to the security guards. “Jordan Finley of the Parkland Police Department should be arriving any minute. Tell him that besides a murder suspect locked up at the Little Gallery, there’s another suspect right here.” They eyed each other, not wanting to believe me. “Don’t let this woman get away. She’s an accessory to murder.”

  Ellin arrived, white-lipped and furious. She pointed a quivering finger at me. “Arrest this man and his accomplice. Randall, I am going to sue your ass into the next century.”

  Nancy gave me a long hard stare. “I had nothing to do with this.”

  A distant wailing of sirens helped the security guards come to a decision. “Let the police straighten it out,” one said. “I’ll go meet them. You watch these two.”

  Ellin turned on me. “What is going on here? What is all this about?”

  “I’ll explain everything later. Right now, we need to find Pierson’s dragonfly.”

  “You disrupt the fair, knock down an innocent woman, terrorize my customers—you are out of here.”

  “We just want to find the dragonfly.” I started to tell her Camden knew the dragonfly was here. I got as far as his name when she broke in.

  “Cam is here? You dragged him into this? I should have known!”

  “A few minutes, that’s all we need.”

  She took several deep breaths, closed her eyes as if silently counting to ten, then opened her eyes. They were arctic blue. “You and Pierson stay right here. I have some damage to control. When I’ve taken care of everything, you can look for your stupid dragonfly.”

  With a curt nod of her head, she gestured a third security guard to follow her into what was left of the fair. Pierson paced anxiously while she dealt with curious customers, angry dealers, a crystal ball-smashed toe, and a crystal necklace puncture. Meanwhile, Nancy tried to convince Leslie everything would be all right.

  In a short while, Jordan arrived with two other officers.

  “If you’ll come with us, ma’am?”

  She gave him her frostiest stare. “This is complete nonsense. This man attacked me.”

  “We’d appreciate your cooperation.”

  Nancy gave me a murderous look and went with one of the other officers. She held her head high and pulled Leslie along. “Don’t worry, Les
lie. This is nothing.”

  Jordan grinned. “We found Mr. Mason. He sang like a little bird. Accused her of everything. Claims he’s an innocent bystander.”

  “That’ll be her story, too, I’m afraid.”

  “We’ll sort it out.”

  Pierson wrung his hands. “Now what do we do, Randall?”

  “We go get Camden.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “My Thoughts Are Winged With Hope”

  Camden was where we’d left him, still shaking.

  “Great,” I said. “It’s still here. Where is it? Ellin’s going to give me about two seconds.”

  His teeth were chattering. “I can’t see anything through this headache. Find the damned thing and get it away from me.”

  “Okay. Hang on.”

  Back in the ballroom, the last of the fairgoers filed out, followed by a tightly smiling Ellin, who thanked them for coming and apologized for the disturbance. Her flame-thrower gaze swung to me. “Find the damned thing.” She unconsciously echoed Camden’s sentiment, “And get out.”

  Pierson and I entered the ballroom, which was now deserted except for a few dealers trying to make repairs. I tried not to let my jaw drop. The room was a shambles. It would be a miracle to find anything in the mess, much less a small dragonfly. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were in a thousand rainbow pieces by now. No, Camden would have sensed that. The dragonfly was here, and we were going to find it.

  Pierson and I waded through the scattered herbs and broken candles, the brochures like large confetti on the carpet, tables, and chairs, the crunch of wind chimes and talismans under our feet.

  Pierson was in awe. “It’s amazing the amount of damage one can do in such a short time. Are all your cases this messy?”

  “Only the important ones.”

  “Any luck?”

  “Not a thing.” A sparkle of green caught my eye and I hurried toward a collapsed table and bent chairs. I reached down, thinking, this is it! It was only a piece of broken crystal. “Damn.”

  Pierson glanced my way, his bulging eyes full of hope. “It has to be here, Randall. Cam wouldn’t have reacted the way he did.”

  “Yeah, and it could be more withdrawal pangs.” I surveyed my masterpiece of destruction. “If only I hadn’t been so dead-set on catching Nancy.”

  “But you did catch her, my boy. That was an impressive tackle.”

  Pierson gathered up some silk scarves, anxiously peering under each one. After at least thirty minutes of wandering through the psychic debris, we slumped down, dejected, into two chairs that had somehow managed to stay upright. No wonder Camden was half crazy all the time, seeing things that weren’t there, trying to make sense out of visions and premonitions. The answer was probably staring me in the face.

  Like the spoons on the bookcase. Hidden in plain sight. Art that’s hidden within art.

  Wait.

  We’d managed to trash only one ballroom. There was another.

  Kary’s favorite display, in the other room, was thankfully away from the carnage. The glassblower.

  “Randall?” Pierson said as I slowly got to my feet. “What is it?”

  I motioned for him to come with me. I didn’t say anything until we were in front of the glassblower’s booth. There on the glass shelf with the unicorns, angels, wishing wells, and little flying saucers, sat the dragonfly, almost completely and successfully camouflaged within the glass and mirrors. Its big staring eyes and delicately veined wings caught the light.

  “Oh.” Pierson gently picked it up. I thought for a moment he was going to kiss it. He held it in his hands, tears rolling down from his big eyes. “Oh, thank God. It’s all right. It’s all right.”

  The happy reunion was punctuated by Ellin’s angry theme of complaints on her cell phone to the Psychic Service.

  “I don’t know what happened. They burst in here like mad men and destroyed the fair. We had a huge crowd, our biggest yet. Yes, I intend to get to the bottom of things.”

  She put the phone away and marched up to us. When she saw the dragonfly, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Is this what all the uproar was about?”

  “Yes,” Pierson said. “This, my dear, is my finest treasure, and I am grateful to you for allowing me to find it.”

  “Out,” she said.

  We stopped by the door to retrieve Camden. He looked a lot better. “You okay?”

  “Yes, thank goodness. Once Pierson had it back, everything settled down.”

  I eyed Ellin, who was coming up fast. “Can you not be okay for a few minutes?”

  He saw her, too. “Sure.” He closed his eyes.

  “Ellin,” I said when she was upon us, “Camden’s still not back.”

  She changed in midstride from righteous indignation to concern. “Oh, dear.” She knelt beside his chair. “I knew this would be too much.”

  And while she was holding his hand, Pierson, the dragonfly, and I made our escape.

  After stopping by the Parkland Museum to retrieve the rest of Pierson’s artwork, he rushed home to contact his buyer. I went back to 302 Grace Street where the relentless beat of Kit’s guitar sounded from upstairs as he wailed his latest song, “Hit Me Like a Lightning Bolt.” Kary was at the pageant all day, so I left a message on her phone saying the dragonfly had been found and all guilty persons arrested. Then Jordan called to tell me what he’d learned from Mason and to hear my part in all the adventure. Everything Mason had told me was true. He was responsible for the deaths, but Nancy Piper had been in on the scheme from the beginning.

  “We’ll also be having a little chat with Patricia Ashworthy,” Jordan said.

  “I think she set the whole thing up as a way of getting back at Baseford. Any idea why?”

  “They’ve been at odds for years.”

  “Perhaps he spurned her advances.” Jordan’s snort made me hold the phone away from my ear. “Well, she came onto me pretty hot and heavy.”

  “Because you’re so irresistible. Oh, I have your cell phone. Some Good Samaritan found it in a trash can outside the Ramada Inn. That was a dumb move, Randall.”

  “I know. Sometimes I’m too trusting.”

  He chuckled. “Well, it made my day.”

  “Since you’re in such a good mood, how about a little credit?”

  “‘Thanks to an unnamed source’?”

  “You’ll have to do better than that.”

  Another chuckle. “I’ll see that Baseford mentions your name. He owes you.”

  Leo Pierson felt he owed me, too. Not long after Jordan’s call, his pearl-gray Mercedes rolled up behind the Fury, and he made a dramatic entrance into my office to hand me a large envelope with a flourish. “There isn’t enough money in the world to repay you for finding the dragonfly, but I hope you will accept this.”

  “You don’t owe me anything else, Pierson.”

  “Nonsense. This is exactly like the end of Eternal Treasure, when the robber baron realizes what he truly loves.” He took his dramatic stance, hand to heart. “‘My heart once wrapped in gold and silver breaks the bonds of callous wealth and reaches for the only true thing that gives my life purpose—my heritage, my blood, my name. No one can take that from me.’ Well, perhaps not exactly that, but you understand the emotion involved. You worked hard, you didn’t give up on what I know at times you felt was a foolish quest, and now I am reunited with the one true thing that gives my life purpose. Plus we made it on time, and soon, I shall have my very own theater! I can’t thank you enough.”

  “You’re welcome. Come back and visit sometime. And bring Francine. I’d like to meet her.”

  “I shall certainly do that.”

  He gave a sweeping bow and went out. I started to open the envelope when Vermillion came in, waving a piece of paper.

  “Solved that puzzle.”

&n
bsp; I couldn’t believe it. “What?”

  “The word puzzle. The one worth millions of dollars.” She sat down in the client chair and pushed the piece of paper across my desk to me. “I’m real good at that kind of thing.”

  The paper was filled with long lists of words, names, and phrases she had created out of the letters found on the Art Nouveau. “This is impressive, Vermillion. What did you come up with?”

  She leaned forward to point to the paper. “Well, first I thought the answer was ‘Rich Man,’ but you wouldn’t be a rich man unless you found the money. Then I thought ‘Also Ruins’ would work, but there aren’t any ruins around here. Then I came up with ‘Under Lamp,’ which was exciting because of the Tiffany lamp, but Kary and I went to that woman’s office in the museum to look, and there wasn’t anything under the lamp. So, I think the very best answer is this.”

  I looked where she pointed. “‘No Cash’?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I suppose that’s possible.” Pierson hadn’t heard of the money, and he was directly related to the Pierson/Duvall feud. Was it something Patricia Ashworthy made up to convince Nancy and Mason to go along with her scheme? Baseford had said it was a hoax. I hated to admit the old buzzard might be right.

  Vermillion took the paper. “I can keep trying.”

  “If you want to, but Pierson has his dragonfly back, and that’s all that matters.” At least, I hoped that was all his letter was about. I slit open the envelope and took out the cream-colored letter. Curly gold letters trumpeted:

  Dear Randall!

  Mere words cannot express my joy at having my dearest treasures returned to me. So for once I have put mere words aside. I know we settled on your fee, but I felt you earned a bonus. Enclosed you will find a check for ten thousand dollars. I hope it will help your agency.

  Best regards,

  Leo L. Pierson

  I shared this good news with Camden and Ellin when she brought him home. She stayed long enough to congratulate me before returning to the studio. Camden went to the kitchen for a Coke and a Pop-Tart. I followed, declined a Pop-Tart, and made some peanut butter crackers.