Memory Lane

by Vella Munn

  “I don’t have any choice, do I?” Rogan asked before hanging up.

  Kim slipped into her practical tennis shoes, hurried with her makeup and closed the door on what had and hadn’t happened last night.

  Garner and Rogan were already there when Kim entered Rogan’s office. The tension in the room was a living thing, made even more powerful when William pushed in behind her. The guard didn’t look at the others. Instead he leaned against the closest wall. “Figures,” he muttered. “Figures.

  Kim didn’t bother asking William to explain himself. “What happened?” she asked Rogan.

  “We’ve been hit. Again.”

  Somehow Kim had known this was what had been behind Rogan’s short words earlier. “What was taken?”

  Garner answered her question. “We’re not sure. Inventory is being taken right now. The case held depression glass.”

  There was a chair waiting, but Kim decided to stand. “How did they get into it?” she asked, wondering if “they” was in the room.

  “It’s broken. Pieces of glass all over the place. The worst thing—” Rogan glanced at Garner. When he turned back toward Kim, he was blinking rapidly. “It wasn’t found by one of the employees. If only we’d discovered it before— We’d just opened the doors when Delores Witherspoon came in with her grandchildren. The kids were visiting and Grandma was going to spend the day working on the kids’ education. I’m surprised you didn’t hear her at your place.”

  Was Rogan blaming Delores Witherspoon for calling attention to the theft and vandalism? Kim could hardly believe that. “What else did she see? Where is Mrs. Witherspoon now?”

  “Gone,” the business manager explained. “She stomped around here for a few minutes, pulled Rogan and me out of the conference room where we were working and then bundled up the kids and hightailed it out of here. She said she wasn’t going to have her precious grandchildren stay where a crime had been committed.” Garner laughed but his tone was grim. “To hear Mrs. Witherspoon tell it, you’d think a murder had been committed here.”

  “It isn’t funny,” Rogan interrupted. The director stabbed his pipe in Garner’s direction. “You know where she’s heading now don’t you?”

  “How many guesses do I get?” Garner’s sharp tone echoed the director’s. “First stop, the police department because she probably figures we aren’t smart enough to do that on our own. From there she proceeds to the nearest telephone where she starts calling everyone within a hundred-mile radius.”

  “Including the newspaper office.”

  “You knew that it was only a matter of time,” Kim began.

  “We don’t need the publicity. Not now. Hiring you was supposed to put an end to things. Our reputation—”

  Kim understood. Rogan’s anger was caused, not by what had been stolen, but by the fact that the thefts could no longer be kept out of the news. “I’d like to see where it happened.”

  “What for?” the business manager threw at her. “It’s broken glass, some things pushed aside and others missing.”

  “It’s my job, remember.”

  “Job. This keeps up and none of us is going to have a job. What we need to do is figure out what we’re going to say when the reporters show up.”

  Kim wasn’t in a mood to be put off. She’d had to contend with that from Garner and the museum’s director for too long as it was. Ignoring Garner, she asked William if he would take her. The guard grunted but pushed himself away from the wall.

  They were out in the hall before William spoke. “Run over to one of the storage units and pick up some canopy bed they’ve been repairing. That’s what they tell me to do when I show up for work. I hightail it out there, and when I come back, everyone’s yelling at me.” William’s long arms swung angrily. “They must think I should live here. Stay here all night. Not for any more money, though. Hell, no. Not for any more money.”

  Kim was having trouble keeping up with William’s long strides, let alone his rapid speech. “Have you called the police?” she managed to ask.

  “Of course. I’m no fool, miss. I know what I’m supposed to do.” William stopped just outside one of the ground-floor rooms at the far end of the hall. He let Kim go in ahead of him. “There wasn’t no one on duty when I called, but the city hall lady said she’d call Charles at home and get him here pronto.”

  Glass lay on the floor and on the velvet at the base of the display. By the amount of empty space, Kim guessed that a considerable number of artifacts had been removed, but an exact count would have to wait until inventory had been taken. Kim was an advocate of shatterproof glass but could understand that a museum like the Comstock had set up many of its displays before the improved glass had been developed. She leaned forward, trying to determine how much force had been necessary to break the glass. Not much, she decided.

  “No one heard anything?” she asked William.

  William hadn’t moved. His hands were knotted at his side. His eyes were alive, too alive. “It happened at night, miss. No one was here to hear anything.”

  Kim wasn’t convinced that the theft had taken place at night. For one, how had someone gotten into the museum after the doors were locked? Also, if someone had managed to circumvent the alarm system, why hadn’t they taken advantage of the empty building to do more than grab a handful of items? Kim was trying to decide whether to propose that theory to William or concentrate on trying to defuse his anger when Garner joined them. The handsome business manager’s lips were pulled taut against his teeth.

  “Let me commend you, Kim. I didn’t think you’d be up and around for hours.”

  Kim had no idea what Garner was talking about. But she was patient enough to wait for him to explain himself.

  “Come on. You can’t believe I don’t know about you and Stockton. I saw him take off after you last night.”

  “That was last night,” Kim emphasized. “We’re talking about now. At least I am.”

  “And you’re saying I’m not?”

  “I don’t know what to think.” William was still glaring at her. Kim forced herself to ignore him. “I wanted to talk to you yesterday about the budget I’d have to work with. You were too busy to have time for me then.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “About plugging up the holes.” Kim jabbed a finger at the case. She shouldn’t be angry about the senseless violence. It was her job to bring the museum’s security system into the twentieth century, not pass judgment. But yesterday this case had held items that once meant something to their owner. Now they were probably being shipped out of town to be sold on the black market. “I’ve been here three days, and so far I haven’t been able to accomplish much of anything.”

  “Maybe that’s because you’re being sidetracked by the city attorney.”

  “What I do on my own time has nothing to do with the job I was hired for. The job I’m trying to do.”

  Garner moved closer to Kim, ignoring the security guard. Kim had been aware of Garner’s carefully sculptured muscles. Now, with him standing only a few inches away, she felt the impact of the power inherent in those muscles. Garner wasn’t that tall, but beneath his suit was coiled strength. If he placed his fingers around her neck—

  Garner was still speaking. His words almost, but not quite, pulled Kim free from her thoughts. “If you were hanging around anyone else, I wouldn’t say anything, but Mark Stockton has his nose in everything. Too damn much for his own good.”

  Kim cast around for an excuse to back away from Garner. She glanced at the guard, but William’s stony eyes left no doubt of his opinion of her. Mark had warned her not to trust anyone.

  After a deep breath, Kim broke her silence. She chose her words carefully. Establishing her position clearly and quickly was essential. “The only thing I want to discuss with you right now is the budget I’m going to be operating with. If I can’t be assured of cooperation from you, I have no choice but to go to the board.”

  “Good bluff, Kim. I’v
e got to hand you that.”

  Garner’s hand hovered over a shard of glass. In a heartbeat it could become a weapon. “It’s no bluff,” she told him boldly.

  “No. I don’t suppose it is.” Garner rocked his body slightly and brought his hand even closer to the glass. Kim’s eyes were riveted on his fingers. Her body tensed, ready for flight or fight.

  She didn’t have to do either. With a loud grunt, Camp Oro’s police chief entered the room. Kim felt herself go weak but fought off the sensation. She’d never been at a crime scene before. She was simply reacting to that.

  “You took your time getting here,” Garner was saying.

  “So I’ve been told. I was with Rogan Coffers while he tried to round up a list of what was in the case. Interesting collection of stuff.” Charles Horne dismissed Garner and concentrated on the glass. “Has anyone touched anything?”

  “I don’t know,” Garner countered. “Probably the lady who found it. And her grandchildren, too, for all I know.”

  “What about you?”

  Kim wasn’t imagining the tension between Charles and the business manager. She moved to stand beside Charles, not just because he was an old friend, but because she couldn’t dismiss what had passed between her and Garner. Garner was making it clear that he knew better than to get his fingerprints all over something. Charles grunted again before turning his attention to the security guard. William repeated what he’d told Kim about having been sent on an errand as soon as he got to work.

  “It was all right when I left last night.” As he’d done in Rogan’s office, William propped his frame against a wall. “I’ve been trying to remember when I was last in this room. Late in the afternoon. And I sure didn’t hear anything.”

  “Anything?”

  “Glass breaking.”

  “Yeah. Of course—” Charles stepped over to the heavy door and closed it. “With this closed, someone could drop a rock on that glass and no one would hear. You can’t be any more specific about the last time you were here?”

  William either couldn’t or wouldn’t cooperate further. He was willing to help Charles dust for prints, but he wasn’t sure what good that would do. “It hasn’t gotten us anywhere before. It isn’t going to be any different this time.”

  Charles sent William out to the police car for the fingerprinting kit. Garner had been a silent observer to the conversation. Now he dismissed himself. “You want me, I’ll be in my office. I’ve got a financial report to prepare. Give me an hour, Ms. Revis. I’ll have everything you want.”

  Kim waited until Garner was out of the room before letting her sigh escape. “Problems?” Charles asked.

  “I don’t know,” Kim said honestly. “Maybe it’s just me. But, Garner makes me uneasy.”

  “He makes me want to give him a swift kick. Thinks he has the answers to everything. Thinks too damn much of himself if you ask me. I was out of town for a couple of days last year. When I came back Sandy told me that Garner had called her twice. Can you believe that? It’s a good thing it wasn’t anything more than a phone call.”

  Kim was willing to let Charles go on about his opinion of the business manager. She appreciated her old friend’s candid comments. If he didn’t believe she would keep his confidences, he wouldn’t have said anything. “Do you have any new theories?” she asked when he ran down.

  “Not really, but don’t tell anyone that.” Charles handed Kim the list he’d gotten from the director. “I don’t know what half of this stuff is. I guess it’s a list of everything that was in the case, or as near as anyone knew. Now we have to determine what’s missing.” Charles sighed again. “This is so damn frustrating. I swear, I’ve got a better chance of identifying that pile of bones we hauled out of the tunnel yesterday.”

  Kim tried to smile. “So, you did get that done. What happens now?”

  “Now it goes to the crime lab. My deputy and I hauled it out before that meeting. Mark says you’re the one who found it.”

  Kim nodded. “I suppose I should have been shocked, but I wasn’t. Surprised, yes. Repulsed, no. Is there any chance they’ll be able to find out who it was?”

  “Are you kidding?” Charles laughed. “Those crime lab guys should have a field day with that relic, but I’d be surprised if they come up with more than the sex and a rough estimate of when whoever it was died. Another in a long line of unsolved crimes.”

  Kim heard footsteps approaching and rushed her question. “Do you really think it was a crime?”

  “Makes sense to me. Someone dies of natural causes, other people make sure the body gets a decent burial.”

  The footsteps belonged to Anthea Norval. The businesswoman and dedicated museum volunteer swept into the room with another woman close behind. Anthea’s companion was vaguely familiar, but Kim was unable to remember where she’d seen her before.

  Anthea’s tone left no doubt of her reaction to the latest theft. “It’s all over town already,” she told the police chief. “Mrs. Witherspoon is holding court down at the post office, telling everyone about the terrible thing she found. I told Rogan there’s no way we can keep this out of the news now. Charmaine’s been trying to tell Rogan we can’t have this kind of publicity, but it hasn’t done any good.”

  The other woman smiled her perfect smile. “Husbands don’t listen to their wives, Anthea. You should know that.”

  That’s where Kim had seen the woman before. She’d been sitting next to Rogan at the town council meeting. Before Kim could decide whether this was the time to introduce herself, Anthea focused her attention on the glass case while Charmaine stood back where there was no danger of broken glass getting in her heels. Self-absorbed, Kim decided, glad that no one was privy to her thoughts.

  Anthea was giving Charles a list of the missing pieces without having to consult the paper the police chief had shown Kim. “There was an indigo compote in the Thousand Eye pattern. I have clients who would kill for one in perfect condition. I can’t believe that’s missing.”

  Anthea sounded agitated, but Kim heard no genuine shock, no true disbelief. Was that the way someone who knew more than she wanted to let on would act?

  Kim didn’t try to answer the question. She wasn’t a detective. But Anthea had access to the entire museum, an insider’s knowledge of the artifacts, and a business that depended on a steady supply of antiques. And all signs pointed to an inside job.

  “You’re sure about this?” Charles was asking. “You know to the last piece what’s missing?”

  “Do you have to ask, Charles? Who spelled it out to you the other times we were robbed? I swear, I don’t know what’s going to happen. If someone doesn’t do something—”

  Kim turned her attention to Charmaine Coffers. The impeccably dressed woman was nodding in agreement. Charmaine exuded money, or if not money, at least a healthy taste for it. Her husband, on the other hand, looked and dressed as if he had too much on his mind to concern himself with physical appearances.

  Kim had no idea what the two had in common.

  Chapter Eight

  Kim sat in on the interview with the newspaper reporter. She had to hand it to Rogan. If the man had had any doubt about his ability to carry off an interview, he hid it well. He, along with the other staff members, were appalled that such a brazen theft could have taken place. Rogan didn’t deny that there had been other thefts. Neither, however, did he allow the interview to head in a direction that might lead to that question. Instead the suggestion was made that if Camp Oro had a larger police force this might not have happened.

  Kim was surprised that the reporter didn’t ask why a security expert was already on the scene when the robbery occurred. However, before the interview was over, she believed she understood. All Anthea had to do was drop a hint to the effect that her husband was a major advertiser for the newspaper. Anthea had the utmost confidence that the reporter would handle the story without sensationalism and would make it clear that the staff was on top of the situation.

  As
soon as the reporter left, Garner returned to inform her that he had the museum’s books ready for her. The two huddled over finances for several hours while Garner explained, in boring detail, how finances would have to be juggled from one area to another. Plans for updating the heating/air-conditioning system would have to be delayed. Another project Anthea had been campaigning for would have to be either scrapped or a fund-raising program implemented. If Kim wasn’t insisting on such an extensive, to say nothing of expensive system, none of this would be necessary.

  “You play hardball, Kim,” Garner rumbled when she stood firm. “A sweet young thing like you—”

  “I’m not a sweet young thing. I’d think you’d have figured that out by now.”

  “You don’t care whose toes you step on, do you?”

  Kim refused to take responsibility for the pinch the museum was going to feel. She wasn’t advocating for a complex electromagnetic locking device throughout although that was what she would prefer to see in place. Instead she explained that wireless transmitters for the most valuable collections, simple detection light beams and door switches weren’t that expensive and would be far better than nothing. Shatterproof glass would replace the fragile cases now in place. And at the top of her list was updating the status of the security guard and providing him with the same training given the local police force.

  Garner balked at the last. “What do we need that for? If we have all this other high-tech wizardry in place, we won’t need a guard.”

  “You couldn’t be more mistaken,” Kim countered. “The visibility of a human guard deters most opportunists. Garner, these are the suggestions I’ll be making to the board. The final decision is up to them.”

  “Yeah.” Garner got to his feet. To her relief, he didn’t come closer. “And you know they’re going to go along with whatever you recommend. I might as well save my breath.”

  Although it was well after noon by the time Kim finished with Garner, she was too on edge to eat. Instead she drove to Grass Valley. She had hoped to see her grandmother but was informed that Margaret was out. No one was sure where she was or when she would return.