In the Cards: A Novel (Tricia Seaver Mystery Book 1)

by Amy Isaman

  A paper backing covered the back of the portrait. Damn.

  “Mom, what are you doing?”

  I ignored her question and tucked the miniature painting into my bag. “Is Darius ready?”

  Laurel shrugged. “He’s still in the front room with his cousin and aunt.”

  I returned to the parlor. “Darius?”

  He held his hand up to quiet me but didn’t say a word as he stared intently at his aunt.

  I hadn’t been shushed like that since I was a child. “Okay, Laurel. I guess he’s not coming.” I swung open the front door and headed across the yard to Darius’ car where I climbed into the passenger seat, leaned my head back, and closed my eyes.

  “Laurel, I’m a moron.”

  “Yeah, I agree. You just stole a painting from that old woman. What’s wrong with you?”

  “No, not that. I feel like an idiot. Darius has been using me.” I looked back toward the house where I could see Darius and his family sitting in the parlor. All of them leaned over, clearly studying the card and the note from their Noni.

  Then I noticed the keys hanging from the ignition. We wouldn’t have to wait for him after all. I got out, hurried around the car, and climbed into the driver’s seat.

  “Mom, what are you doing? We can’t just leave Darius here.”

  “Why not?”

  “Oh, my God, Mom. Are you nuts?!? You’re stealing a car now too?”

  “No, I’m not stealing a car! I’m taking it back to the owner’s house.”

  Chapter 15

  “UNCLE DARIUS, THAT WOMAN just drove away in your car!” Chelsea yelled from the front door.

  Darius hurried to the window to see his old sedan careening down the wrong side of the lane. “Bloody hell. Why did she leave? She’s going to kill herself or someone else, for damn sure.” Bringing her here had been a miserable mistake. He thought maybe she’d pick up on something talking to Irene, but she seemed to have no sense of her own intuition and obviously felt like he had used her to find the other cards. The worst part was that he honestly did like her.

  Susan stood next to Darius and watched Tricia drive away. “She’s a case. You know how to find ‘em don’t you.”

  He ignored her comment for the moment. “Would you get your keys? We need to follow her.”

  Irene harrumphed and headed toward the kitchen, mumbling, “See? You bring those cards around and bad things happen. But nobody believes an old woman.” A moment later, she began yelling, “That woman is a thief. She stole a painting.”

  Darius and Susan hurried down the hall where they found his aunt staring at a spot above the scrubbed pine table. The wall had a pale square space where something hung for years but had been removed.

  “I’m calling the constable. They can stop her and bring that portrait right back home,” Irene snapped, reaching for the phone which still hung on the wall where it had since its installation decades ago. Entering this house was like taking a trip back in time.

  “Wait,” Darius set his hand on his aunt’s arm. “What was the picture that was there?”

  “It was the miniature of my father, your grandfather. That’s a family heirloom that she’s knicked.”

  “He must be The Knight of Coins. She’s found another card,” Darius said slowly.

  Irene’s eyes flew open, and she began pressing buttons on the phone until Darius grabbed it from her hand.

  “Aunt Irene, stop. We certainly don’t need the police in on our family’s search for the missing cards. It’ll get out, and we’ll have treasure hunters everywhere. That’s the last thing we need. Let’s think about this.”

  Irene looked up at the empty spot on the wall, a look of horror on her face. “You think I’ve had one of those cards in my house for all these years?”

  “Possibly,” said Darius. “So, I guess that goes to show it isn’t cursed if it’s been in that painting.”

  Irene covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide as she turned to her nephew and stared at him. Finally, she dropped her hand and spoke. “I won’t call the police as long as you keep the bloody card, but I want my father back.”

  “Absolutely,” Darius said, biting back a grin as he gave his aunt a hug.

  “We’ll get him back, Mum. Don’t worry about that.” Susan paused, a pensive look on her face. “Mum, is that old box still on the shelf in my closet?” She didn’t wait for an answer but hurried down the hall. “Don’t leave, Darius.”

  “I can’t leave,” Darius reminded her as she ran up the stairwell. He wanted to get back to the Inn before Tricia, so he could get the painting. “Chelsea, grab your keys. I’ve got to get going as soon as your mum comes back.”

  “Oh, can mum take you? I’ve got some things to do.”

  “I hope so.”

  A few minutes later, Susan returned, an old shoebox in her hands. Lifting the lid, she pulled an old leather-covered notebook from within it and handed it to Darius. “This might help. It’s great-grandfather’s diary.”

  “How long have we had this?” Darius asked. He’d never seen the thing before. Most of the heirlooms stayed at the Inn.

  “Forever,” Susan said, “but we don’t have time to read it now. We need to go after that woman. Like right now. She stole that painting and possibly a card. They belong to us.”

  “She’s not going to steal it.”

  Susan stared at Darius as if every brain cell had left his body. “She already did steal it, Darius. Are you daft?”

  “I meant that she won’t keep it. If she was going to do that, she wouldn’t have ever shown me the Tower card. Right?”

  “Of course. She seems like a perfectly rational sort of woman,” Susan said, rolling her eyes.

  “Well, if she’s already found two cards, and there are two more, you’re going to have to work things out with her because she seems to be the only one who can find them,” Chelsea pointed out.

  “Oh, are you joining this treasure hunt now, too?” Susan asked her daughter. “These clues Noni left are ridiculous. This Tower card has been hidden since 1924? She obviously didn’t want them found.”

  “Of course, I’m joining on this hunt,” Chelsea said with a grin. “This is super exciting, and if we can find them and sell them, I won’t have to take any more loans to pay for nursing school. You two seem to think that we need this American tourist to find them. Is she the only one who can?”

  “I have no idea.” Darius shook his head. “But, I’ll be surprised if I ever see her again unless I beat her back to the Inn. I’m sure she’ll be packing up and leaving it as soon as she gets back to London. She was a bit angry, or did you not notice?”

  Susan laughed. “Oh, I noticed. You said she’s an art historian or some such thing? These will be far too intriguing to let go, and if she found the second card, you better get it from her. They belong to the family.”

  “Uncle Darius, does she have some sort of gift? She had a dream; she recognized the Inn and somehow knew about wallpaper that was covered over for what, thirty years? And, she found one, maybe two, tarot cards.”

  Now it was Darius’ turn to smile. “She also mentioned an odd sense of Déjà vu. The house definitely sets her on edge. But, if she does have a gift, I’m not sure she’d ever admit it. She’s one of the most pragmatic people I’ve ever met, and I think this whole thing scares her more than anything.”

  “Even if we only get her assistance for a day or two, it might help,” Chelsea added, eyeing her mother and her uncle. “Lord knows you two haven’t had any luck finding them.”

  They hadn’t, but they hadn’t really known where to look other than at the Inn. And they obviously not been very thorough since they never climbed into the wardrobe and found the Tower card hidden there. He’d kept his eyes open every time he renovated or refurbished anything in the Inn, but they hadn’t turned up. Maybe he should start crawling inside the older pieces of furniture or dismantling them. That worked for Tricia.

  “I don’t want any part of t
his. I don’t want that card back in my home. And you can have that, too.” Irene pointed at the box that Susan held. “It belonged to my grandfather. Noni gave it to me. You three are asking for trouble. The cards have been hidden and hidden well for years. For a reason. There’s no need to bring back the cursed things.”

  “But Gram,” Chelsea said. “They’re worth a fortune. We wouldn’t have to worry about anything ever again.”

  Irene narrowed her eyes at her granddaughter. “I don’t have anything to worry about right now. But if you find those cards, I’ll have a damn curse on my mind, and I’ll be worried about each one of you.” She pointed at them in turn, like the old school teacher she was. “You’ve no idea what you’re speaking about. I don’t want to hear about them or see them. Get that card you brought here out of my house.” Irene gave the three of them each a glare and left the kitchen, emphasizing her anger with deep sighs.

  Darius nodded. “We’ve got one card, maybe two. Let’s see what we can do with The Tower in terms of getting it authenticated and into a museum. The others will turn up in their own good time.”

  “No,” Susan and Chelsea said in unison.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Susan added with a glare.

  Darius threw his hands in the air and leaned on the kitchen counter. He liked women, loved them even, but they could make him crazy. He wanted to study the cards and the riddle his great-grandmother wrote. He envisioned a glass of wine or two with Tricia, coming up with ideas and then perhaps tracking them down. Though, if he was honest, finding the cards wasn’t necessarily the outcome of that fantasy.

  This whole day was a disaster.

  “First,” Susan pointed out, “You need to get back to the Inn, before that guest of yours. Or we need to chase her down, so we can get that card back. And, I think Chelsea’s right. You definitely need to smooth things over with her because we need her help.”

  “Oh, I’ll smooth things out, but she’s furious with me. She obviously felt that I took advantage of her.”

  “She did get quite red when you were talking about her dream, Uncle Darius,” Chelsea added. “But a date might sound lovely to her. You got her to your Aunt’s house, why not the theater?”

  “I don’t date guests,” he muttered.

  Susan’s face lit up. “Ah, but you need to date this one. I don’t much care for it either. She seems a bit mental, but these are special circumstances.”

  Darius glared at his cousin, and he was reminded yet again why he shared nothing of his personal life with her. “Yes, but I’ve made a muck-up of this whole affair. I’ve no idea how to contact her until I can access her information which is all at the Inn, and even if I did, I’m sure she’s had enough.”

  “Well, we’ve got to try. Let’s get you back to London.” Susan grabbed her keys to drop Darius off at the train station.

  “I’m off, too,” Chelsea said, giving everyone quick hugs before hurrying out to her car.

  Darius watched her go, wondering about the rush she was in as she tore off down the street.

  Two hours later, the box from his cousin tucked under his arm, Darius climbed the steps to the Silver Birch Inn and went directly to the garage, but his car wasn’t there. He had Tricia’s mobile number in the Inn records. He wondered if she’d answer his call. She’d left furious and clearly uninterested in spending one more second with him, but she also had the family painting, possibly another tarot card, his car, and no idea how to drive in England. He groaned inwardly.

  Setting the box on the desk, he checked the messages for the Inn. Nothing. He was sure there was a perfectly good explanation for their failure to return. They should have beat him home by a good hour, at least. The young woman who worked for him in the afternoons hadn’t heard from or seen them either.

  He paced across the front parlor, debating on whether to call the police or Tricia. He certainly didn’t want to charge her with theft of his auto, but technically, that’s what it was. Damn her. No, damn him for not being more honest about his motives. He wanted to spend more time with her, but he also wanted her to help him find the cards. It wasn’t the fortune that interested him as much as the chase. He loved it, and if he was totally honest with himself, that was one of the reasons his short-lived marriage hadn’t worked. He’d loved the romance of the chase and got bored when he’d caught her once and for all. She got bored too–not a great foundation for a marriage. But, he found, over the past few years, that he’d tired of the chase.

  He jumped as the sharp ring of the Inn’s phone interrupted his reverie.

  “Hello? Silver Bir—”

  “Darius?” A panicked female voice interrupted.

  “Yes, this is he. Who is this?”

  “This is Tricia. I need help.”

  “Where are you?” Darius asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  Chapter 16

  EVERYTHING IN THIS CAR was backward. We’d probably end up in a ditch before we got to the end of the lane. I glanced over at Laurel in the passenger seat. She had one hand wrapped around the handle above the door and the other tightly clenched in her lap. She looked exactly like I looked when I taught her to drive.

  “Mom, what exactly are you doing?” Laurel screeched as I careened down the right, or wrong, side of the road.

  “Just give me a sec.” I changed lanes and slowed, adjusting my mirrors. I could do this.

  “Uh, no. You’re going to get arrested. Did you actually steal a painting from that sweet little old lady? And we stole Darius’ car. Are you kidding me? Do you even have any idea how to get back to London?”

  “Yes, Google it. You’re navigating.”

  She glared at me. “Who are you? And what have you done with my mother? I’m going to have to move to England, so I can visit you in prison!”

  “Hush, tell me where to go. Then grab that painting. Tear the paper off the back. There’s another card there.”

  “And you know this because?”

  “Just do it. Trust me.”

  She glared at me and set her phone in the cupholder between us, so I could hear Siri’s navigational instructions. I wanted to watch her open the painting, but I had to keep my eyes on the road. I hadn’t paid any attention to how we got here. I was too absorbed in the scenery and the man next to me to pay attention to the actual roads. He’d used me for whatever weird gift they thought I had. This whole thing was nuts.

  “Okay, do you want to pull over to do this?” Laurel asked.

  I shook my head. “No, I want to get back before Darius does, so we can find a new hotel to stay in.”

  “So, we’re just stealing the painting and his car and leaving his Inn?”

  “Yes. You said you wanted an adventure, so I suppose this is it.”

  “Mom, you need to turn around.”

  “No, we’ll return everything to Darius, but we need to see what we have.” I slowed down as she set the painting in her lap.

  “All right then. You’ve lost your mind, but I’ll look.”

  I watched out of the corner of my eye as she gently pulled the paper from the back of the frame. And there it was. The gold leafing of another Visconti-Sforza tarot card. “Holy shit,” Laurel whispered. “You did it.”

  “Be careful with it. Don’t touch it.”

  “Don’t worry.” She pulled the rest of the paper off the back and lay the portrait on her lap. “This is amazing. What are we going to do with it?”

  “Leave it in my room and lock the door. Darius will surely look for us there. He’ll find it.”

  “What if the creepy couple from the 2nd floor comes up and takes it?”

  “Really? Let’s not get overdramatic.”

  “Need I point out that we’re in a stolen car with stolen art? I think I’m perfectly allowed to get dramatic.”

  We drove in silence except for Siri’s directions that seemed to be taking us on a completely different route than the one Darius drove. I felt like we should be getting closer to the city, but the countr
yside and the green rolling hills didn’t seem to be getting any more populated.

  “Can you check the map, Laurel? This doesn’t feel right.” Laurel re-entered the Inn’s address into her map app.

  “Yeah, this is right. Maybe Darius went a different way to avoid traffic or something.”

  The car sputtered, lurching slightly. “What was that?” I pressed on the gas, pumping it slightly, only to have it sputter again.

  “Are we seriously running out of gas?” Laurel asked.

  It hadn’t even occurred to me to check the gas gauge, but I did now. Empty.

  Five minutes later, I watched Laurel’s back as she walked toward the last village we went through. We figured it must be about four miles which she could walk much faster than me. Hopefully, she’d return in two hours or so. Neither of us wanted to leave the tarot card alone, or carry it in my bag where it could get banged around. Also, walking about with a stolen painting and priceless art treasure probably wasn’t wise. I wasn’t sure if Darius would call the cops. If he did, he’d have to tell them about my stealing the portrait, and possibly why I took it. I didn’t think that either he or Susan would want anyone to know about it, but I had no idea what Irene would do.

  I sat in the car, waiting and studying the Knight of Coins. It looked as if it was still in great condition. It showed a young blonde man on a horse, prancing slowly forward. He held one large coin in his left hand.

  How did people decide that these images could tell them their future? I didn’t understand that. I also studied the spread of tarot cards from my reading from the image on my phone. It still didn’t make much sense to me, other than the one with the sticks. She said something about life getting faster, and I thought it looked like I was getting attacked. Unfortunately, we were both right.