“I was at Quantico with her oldest brother Tyler.”
“Oh yeah, so this is the sister.”
“What?” Glenna looked from son to father.
“Yeah your brother called and dad did not look happy.”
He hadn’t been happy with the call and that was before she reminded him of his ex. Her stomach rolled. She was putting him out. Dammit. She’d finish breakfast and pack, she could stay at a hotel or something until it was safe to go home.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you look sad.” Finn laid a hand on her arm.
“Glenna,” Patrick placed a hand on the other arm to force her attention to him. “I thought your brother was sending me on a wild goose chase to find some putz with cold feet. It had nothing to do with you. So get those thoughts out of your head. You’re welcome here until it’s safe.”
“Yeah Ms. Glenna please stay.” Finn added.
She looked at one hand on one side and then the other. Even their hands were similar. And how could she stay mad or sad. He was right. He hadn’t known her. She’d probably have felt the same way in his shoes.
She grinned first at Patrick, then Finn. “How am I supposed to finish breakfast if I can’t move my arms?”
They let her go like a hot potato and she laughed. It only took a few more minutes before everything was ready to serve. Once they were ready to eat she waited for one of them to say grace, when it was evident they were about to dig in, she cleared her throat and raised a brow.
“What?” Finn asked.
Patrick looked a little abashed. She knew he was brought up catholic, if his sister’s name was any clue.
“Grace first.”
Patrick gave a quick prayer, Glenna thought was too short, but he’d barely said amen when both of them started eating as if they hadn’t had a home cooked meal in years. The stocked pantry and fridge belied that assumption. Maybe Patrick wasn’t a good cook?
“What are you guys doing today?” Finn managed between bites.
“Glenna is going to review the surveillance video and then we’re going to do some inventory.” Which came out with a pause between each word as Patrick talked while eating.
Men.
“I need to shower before we go.”
“Just to get dirty?” Finn paused forkful halfway to his mouth.
“Inventory isn’t really like an archeological dig. However, you do have a point. Okay, after I do the dishes I’ll just throw on something and I’ll shower before I make the Sheppard’s pie this evening.”
“Sheppard’s pie?” they chorused.
“Oh, you don’t like it?”
“Yes we do,” Finn said.
“Glenna, you don’t have to feed us and work off your stay here. You’re our guest we should be cooking for you.”
“You forget, I like to cook. It will take my mind off what’s going on. I’m your responsibility not your guest and I don’t want to be a burden.”
“A burden,” Finn snorted. “You’re not a burden. Hey maybe you could come to my football game Friday night. If we win we go to the championship.”
“I remember.”
He looked at her in bewilderment. She stood and started to gather plates.
“I was in the car when you told your dad. I would love to come to your game, I haven’t been to one since… I actually can’t remember when.”
Patrick looked like he might argue. She was perhaps overstepping, but on this, she didn’t care. It would probably be nice for Finn to have someone cheering him on other than just his dad and grandparents.
*****
Glenna contemplated herself in the mirror. She didn’t want to look the frump but Finn had been right, she would be rummaging through old dirty and dusty boxes. Oh well, Patrick was just going to have to see her that way. Once and for all he’d realize she was just Glenna and not his ex-wife. She liked to be girly and dress up. But sometimes you just had to wear old jeans, a grubby tee shirt and pull your hair into a ponytail. It was a tomboy kind of day and she wouldn’t care what he thought. She pulled a ball cap on then pulled her hair through the opening in the back and she was ready to go.
It didn’t matter what she wore anyway, the shop would be closed for a few more days until the authorities gave her permission to open for business.
Finn had been about to climb into the back of the 4Runner when she walked out, he stopped and grinned. Patrick just stared.
“What?”
“You look about Finn’s age and ready for a softball game or something.”
She thought about it a moment. “I’m okay with that. Let’s go.”
They dropped off Finn in front of his school. Patrick waited until he was out of sight and then turned onto the road. Glenna tried to stop all the thoughts running through her mind. She really didn’t want to watch the videos of the night Alex was attacked. Even if it was after the fact. Most likely her body would still show on the screen.
Patrick placed a hand on her knee, his warmth calmed her, and she was going to need to be very careful of her heart. She had to remember he was off limits. No matter his calming and safe presence. He had two strikes against him. True, he had a lot going for him, too.
“Glenna, I promise if you can’t watch I’ll turn them off.” His words confirmed he had known her thoughts.
“No, I’ll watch. If one of them was Lance I want to know. I’m finding out a lot of things about him, but I really don’t think murderer is one of them.”
“I hope you’re right.”
A few minutes later they were pulling into the shop parking lot. The police officers Beckworth and Jones were propped up against the fender of their car waiting. They both straightened once they parked and got out.
“Are you ready to watch these?” Beckworth patted a black case sitting on the hood. “I have a question.”
“Another one?” Patrick’s toned leaned toward sarcastic. But the officer didn’t seem to notice.
“Why go to all the money to put surveillance in and not add it to the store room?”
Glenna was surprised by the question. “Why would I go to the added expense? No one is allowed in the back.”
“Duh, thieves usually don’t follow the rules,” Jones, said. “They would go in the back.”
“Jones.” The older partner barked.
“It’s all right.” She turned to Jones. “Your point is taken. If I’d had it in the storage room, we may have figured out what they were looking for, or if they had taken anything.”
“Yeah, when are you going to take some inventory?” Jones asked.
This guy had no filter. “Today. And don’t worry Officer Jones, you’ll be the first to know what we find. Now, can we get started? I’m sure the two of you have other things you’d like to do.”
“Can’t wait to be alone with the fed huh?”
“Enough Jones.” This time it was Patrick who berated him.
Her stomach flipped and flopped as she waited for them to set the video to the time right after the murder. She purposely looked away from the monitor not wanting to see anything, even in fast motion.
“Glenna?” Patrick asked.
She realized the others were waiting also. She swallowed and turned her attention to the screen. Luckily most of Alexis’ body was out of view blocked by the counter. If she looked through the glass she could probably make more out, but she wouldn’t be doing that. A tall figure stepped into view his face fully covered with a black ski mask. He motioned with his hands toward the back. The other figure was a bit shorter, not by much but enough to notice. He nodded and continued to look over the counters. Then another man came out of the back, he must have gone in before she started watching. He said something and shook his head. Then the other guy emerged again, he was by far the tallest. All three were muscular, not fat, but built. And two were about the same build and height, leaner.
Nothing at all struck her as Lance. “None of them are Lance.”
“How do you know? They all have ski masks
on.”
She looked at the younger officer. How on earth had he passed through the academy? His partner rolled his eyes.
“Glenna?” Patrick prompted her to continue.
“None of them had any mannerisms that matched his. More importantly, Lance wasn’t built, he has a lean runner’s body. In fact, he ran every morning.”
“You could tell all this?” Jones asked.
“That’s why we had her watch them,” Beckworth barked. Clearly exasperated. “At least we know whatever Gordon was looking for has the interest of someone else.”
“Now we know we’re looking for three other interested parties. What we don’t know is what they were looking for, art or antiquities.” Patrick picked up where Beckworth had left off.
“Come on Patrick, the sooner we go through the basement, the faster we’ll have a clue.” She paused. “Hopefully.”
“What basement?” Beckworth glanced in the direction of the store room.
“There is a hidden door to a basement. Glenna keeps her new finds there until she can take inventory,” Patrick explained.
“Once I know what I have and it’s been cataloged in the computer I bring it into the main store room. My assistant knows…” Glenna closed her eyes a moment, swallowed then opened them. “…knew that meant she could find a place in the shop for them.”
“Good. Maybe today we’ll have a direction to go in our investigation.” Beckworth motioned to his partner and the two left.
“Well? What are we waiting for?” Glenna asked moving toward the closet.
Chapter Nine
“Latte’s.”
The exclamation stopped Glenna before she reached the closet leading to the basement. Patrick watched her turn to grin at her friend who stood in the doorway holding up two coffee to-go cups.
“You’re a life saver!”
“It’s WCM on the skinny, just the way you like them.” Effie grinned and turned to Patrick. “And for you a dark, bold, black as sin, the way you ordered it yesterday morning, hopefully it’s just the way you like it.”
Patrick gratefully took the cup, then frowned. “WCM on the skinny? What kind of concoction is that?”
Effie pulled herself up to her full height of what he guessed to be five foot nothing and answered as if instructing a class. “White Chocolate Mocha, and on the skinny means it’s made with non-fat milk, sugar free syrups and no whipped cream.”
Then the woman giggled, the sound reminiscent of Tinkerbell from Peter Pan. “She takes all the fucking fun out of it.”
Tinkerbell with a trucker’s mouth. Patrick grinned at both and raised his cup in toast. “To finding some clues.”
He took a sip and it was every bit as delicious as the French press. “Effie are you up for some sleuthing?”
She gave him a horrified look, then glanced down at her green and pink striped skirt, orange blouse, then back to him. “No thanks. I don’t want to ruin my clothes.” She turned to Glenna. “If you need me to, I’ll run home and change.”
“I think Patrick was just joking. We’re okay. You have a business to run.” Glenna stepped close to her friend and gave her a hug. “Thanks for the work fuel. Chat with you later.”
Effie was gone in a wisp and swirl of some flowery scent as fast and dramatic as her entrance. He’d never met anyone like her.
“She’s like a real life animated character from a book.” He watched her skip, hop, and walk across the parking lot. Only then noticing that one sock was striped and the other polka dot. At least they were pink, green, and orange. “I mean that in a nice way.”
He flipped the door shut, twisted the lock. “Ready to tackle those boxes?”
In answer, Glenna pulled the closet opened. “Can you see the door?”
He stepped forward and searched. He finally moved some brooms and mops and still could not see a door. “No. I think you’re right. A carry over from prohibition.”
She motioned him to step a foot back and then cleared away the shoes and other things on the floor and pulled up a trap door revealing a staircase into the basement.
“Wow. I’m just glad it’s not a ladder.”
Glenna chuckled. “There is no way I’d be able to move boxes down or up a ladder.”
“Ladies first.”
She led the way to the basement and then sat her WCM on the skinny on the workbench, placed her hands on her hips and surveyed the area. Her stance reminded him of a super hero one. Then he remembered Tyler telling him once that his sister Reagan would stand like that when surveying a crime scene. Patrick wondered if the like mannerism was one of those twin things.
After a few minutes, Glenna went to a box shoved into a corner and tugged it into the center of the room. For being a storage area, it was remarkably organized and decorated. She’d made it homey with bright yellow walls, though they weren’t plaster, but cement. The shelves were done in orange and he had a moment’s inspiration that her elfish friend had lent a hand in the decorating.
“I think this is the box from upstate New York.” She read over the manifest, then grinned at him. “Yes it is. Let’s see what is in here.”
He set his cup next to hers and pulled up a chair. “I have no idea how valuable these are, I don’t want to break anything. What do you want me to do?”
“As long as we’re both careful and take turns taking things out we’ll be fine.”
She pulled out an object and carefully unwrapped it, checked the list that was sitting next to them on an empty chair. She pursed her lips and surveyed it for a moment.
“I don’t believe this is anything of value, or that would cause a break in anyway. It’s only worth a couple of hundred dollars.”
Patrick raised a brow, in his opinion he’d been thinking a couple of dollars, forget the hundred. Following her example he brought out another piece. Once he unwrapped it, he frowned. What the hell was it?
“So what about this?”
She looked up and frowned. “What the hell is that?”
Well at least he didn’t feel so uneducated now. He shrugged at her question. She reached for it and turned it this way and that, she finally referred to the list and checked it off.
“Well?”
“It’s a Schematic figurine of the Kusura type marble Anatolian Early Bronze II period 2700-2300 BC.”
“Oh, okay. Is that valuable?”
“Yes it is. But Lance had no interest in the early Bronze Age, he leaned more to art.”
Confused he asked. “Aren’t artifacts to all concerned, art?”
“Sorry, I meant art as in pictures, like Van Gogh or Monet, or like the Italian Maestà by Duccio, 1308–1311, or Medieval or Renaissance art.”
Not that he fully understood what she meant, but at least he was familiar with Van Gogh and Monet, it gave him a general idea of what to look for, and not those little weird statues. Even if they were worth thousands, to someone anyway.
Patrick glanced up as Glenna swiped a hair away, which had escaped her ponytail, from her face. He wanted to reach over and wipe the dirt smudge from her face. How on earth had he ever thought she was like Joyce?
“What are you thinking over there?” Glenna hadn’t looked at him, but she must have felt his thoughts.
“Just thinking that we’ve been at this all morning and I’m hungry.”
She straightened to give him a shocked look. “After that huge breakfast you and Finn put away? I swear I won’t be hungry for a week.”
He stood and looked down at her. “I’m a mite bigger than you. Takes a lot of fuel to keep this body going, you know.”
She tilted her head to regard him, he was delighted to see twin pink cheeks. “You’ve been doing nothing but sitting here. How does that burn fuel?”
“You should know that you burn calories even sitting. Someone my size, about 66 calories per hour. And it’s been a couple, plus I drove here and we talked to the detectives…”
She held up her hand. “Stop! I get your point. I could use a break.
I’m going cross eyed and I still have no clue what Lance could have wanted. This is the only sale I know we both attended.”
“As you said, the only one you know.”
Patrick held out a hand, she grasped it, and he pulled her to her feet. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the electricity running up his arm. She let go of his hand as quickly as possible. Did she feel little shocks also?
He would have to explore the possibilities after the case. His number one rule, never get involved with someone he worked with, no matter what capacity.
Effie made a big fuss over their lunch causing the other patrons to glance at them more than once. Most likely wondering if they were in town for the art festival. And if they were anyone worth noting. They’d be disappointed to know they were just residents and Effie was just being herself. And by the time most of them left, they’d all received the Effie treatment. Must be why the Bistro was such a popular place.
Patrick sighed when they returned to the basement. What he needed was a nap after that lunch. Instead he looked around at the boxes. They only had one more box to go through from the New York estate sale. Squaring his shoulders he bent to the task. The sooner they went through it, the sooner they’d be finished.
*****
Glenna watched Patrick from under her lashes. She had always wondered what that meant when she read one of her many romance novels, and now she knew. You had your head bent as if looking down, but your eyes were actually focused on something across from you. And the point was for people not to notice. She’d never had any particular reason to try this until now.
He was such a delight to watch. A big highlander, his huge hand gently unfolding the protective paper away from delicate objects of art. Then the little crease between his brows would appear and she’d know that he didn’t have a clue what he was looking at. She found it delightful.
And in that moment she knew she was in deep trouble no matter that he had not one, but two strikes against him.
“Are you done staring at me?”
She raised her head and glared at him for catching her. Drat the man.
“I was just wondering when you’re going to ask me what you’re holding.”
Abandoned (The Beckett Series Book 6) Page 9
