Legacy of Silence

by Flo Fitzpatrick

  “But?”

  “Four people knew the alarm code. The associate from Dave’s office—that’s Cort. There’s an associate from the firm handling Russ’s claim, uh, Brett King. Then we have the very—oh, I’ll be kind and say ‘overly enthusiastic’—real estate agent, George Miller and Mr. Tomlinson, the guy who installed the system. Out of that quartet, three probably have more knowledge about the contents of this house than I do and all of them know there may be some valuable paintings hidden inside.”

  Miranda didn’t mention the obvious. Russ also knew the passcode. She had only his word that someone had broken in. He’d been first on the scene for each incident. Could he possibly be trying to gaslight her into giving up the inheritance? She refused to let that thought stay in her mind. She quickly joked, “Perhaps Miss Virginia’s ghost is checking up on how we’re dealing with her things?”

  Hernandez shot her a sharp glance. “Call Brennan. Now. And Russ needs to call his attorney, as well. If nothing else, they need to know what’s happening here. If you’re right about the artwork being the ‘why’ perhaps the break-ins really are all about Miss Virginia’s past.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “I UNDERSTAND, because I was brought up here, that the South has a charming way of doing business that is often laid-back and somewhat informal, but that law office is so casual it’s going to get us murdered one afternoon in the middle of labeling!” Miranda slammed the receiver back into its cradle. Phoebe and Spero, sitting attentively at her feet, barked in agreement.

  Miranda glanced at Russ and the four police officers who’d patiently waited for her to finish her call to Dave Brennan. “Folks, they might as well have put up a billboard reading, This way to the Treasure! and announced a fun day for any and all comers wanting to poke around Miss Virginia’s house. With tour guides dressed in Scarlet O’Hara crinolines for effect.”

  Russ growled, “Slow it down!”

  “Sorry.” She signed what she could, which wasn’t much since half of what she’d said was pure garbage. Miranda finally gave up, grabbed a notebook and wrote down what she’d said, adding, “Yes, it was meant to be somewhat sarcastic.”

  “So, what exactly did Brennan say?” Russ asked.

  Miranda stared at him for a long moment. Then she grinned. “I am so stupid but ultimately brilliant. Let’s give text messages a shot, okay?” She dumped the notebook in favor of her phone. “Texting? Yes?”

  Russ smiled. “Yes.”

  “Great.” She continued her tirade, speaking aloud to the police but texting part of it on her phone and holding it out so Russ could see. “First, Dave Brennan said he was sorry someone had broken into the house. He was absolutely positive that no one associated with his firm would do such a thing and since half of Birmingham knows that Tomlinson Alarms uses the number of a house and the initials of the first and last name of the person who ordered the stinkin’ alarm system, anyone on the street could have been zipping in and out of here with wild abandon every hour on the hour.”

  A long pause while Russ read her text, which had ended up even less coherent than her statement.

  Russ grimaced. “He did not say that.”

  “Well, close. It’s the basic meaning anyway. But—this is important—the associates, paralegals, secretaries, clerks and probably the janitors at Brennan’s firm and at Henniger and Waltham had all heard rumors that something valuable might be on the premises.”

  “You haven’t found anything yet, correct?” asked Officer Williams.

  “Zippo.”

  Hernandez waved his arms. “We’re wasting time, folks. We all agree that the ultimate target is the artwork. Now let’s see if we can find any trace of this joker’s presence.”

  The search was on. Miranda and Russ were allowed to accompany the police in case either of them noticed belongings out of place or items that had vanished. Spero and Phoebe trotted behind the group—alert and ready to provide whatever canine assistance was required.

  The search took less than forty minutes. It was thorough but ultimately unproductive. Miranda and Russ had managed to organize and label about half of the boxes since the last break-in. Out of the odds and ends from Virginia’s cabinets, the only items that might be of value were the three boxes of Lladró and Hummel figurines, which Miranda had packed, sealed and labeled. It was obvious no one had tried to open any of them.

  Russ waited in the living room with both dogs while Miranda escorted the police to the door. She shook hands with Ted Hernandez and said that she’d get the alarm code changed as soon as possible.

  “That’s a good start, but something tells me it won’t do much to deter your art-loving visitor. Then again, it can’t hurt and doesn’t cost a thing.”

  “Well, thanks. I’m truly grateful to you for getting here so fast and for everything you’ve done,” Miranda said. She tried to smile. “Wanna move in for the next couple of weeks and guard the place?”

  Ted winked. “It’s going to be fine. Just let me know if you find something worth stealing. I’d wager that Miss Virginia put the small things she considered truly valuable in a vault somewhere, but forgot to mention that in her will. Either of them. You might ask the lawyers if she has some kind of secure storage facility and if so, if either you or Russ could legally access it.”

  “Great idea! I’ll do that. Cort is smart, but I think he’s too busy dealing with the fight over who inherits to figure out exactly what Russ or I would get. Apart from the house that is. I don’t know about Brett.”

  She headed back to the living room and was immediately greeted by both dogs, who clearly thought she’d been gone long enough to start up the big puppy dance of greeting.

  “Well? What’s the plan of action, Ms. Nolan?” Russ asked.

  Food. Read jrnals. Call lawyers. Ask about storage unit? she texted. She paused then added, Have nervous brkdwn. Want orange tea? Want to help?

  Russ chuckled. “With the breakdown or the tea?”

  The latter. I can do the former solo, she signed.

  Russ did his bit by turning on the stove for the water. She waited until he faced her again before texting, Faster we find art, safer for us. Yes?

  Russ nodded. “Absolutely. I have to admit I’m almost relieved that neither of us is living here right now. It could be really dangerous.”

  Miranda shivered. She felt cold, even in a house that had no air-conditioning. She texted, U think thief would harm?

  Russ didn’t answer. After a long moment, he shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t know. One doesn’t think of art thieves as being violent but maybe we’re all too conditioned by tales of elegant cat burglars in movies and mysteries.” He added, “I’m becoming more convinced though that there really is something in one of her diaries. Perhaps we should get a better system going and start sorting by dates? Want to print more labels?”

  Miranda nodded. Anything to stay busy.

  She walked back into the living room and headed for the desk that currently held Virginia’s laptop and printer. Miranda had noticed during the last session with Russ that there were about twelve boxes holding diaries, so she typed in years from 1946 to 2014 and hit Print. As she mindlessly stared at the printer, lightning struck, but the flash had nothing to do with journals or art. Without waiting for the labels to finish printing she ran back to the kitchen and grabbed the cell phone she’d left on the counter. Russ was pouring hot water over the tea leaves. She tapped him on the shoulder.

  “What?”

  Miranda pointed at her cell phone then signed, Voice. She didn’t know the sign for recognition so she typed it in, followed by the words software and Dragon.

  She texted, Do U know? Need larger phone? Galaxy. IPhone. IPad. + Wi-Fi. U Speak. Dragon types out. Sftware out for 10 yrs or more.

  Russ stared at her for a moment then burst into peals of laught
er. Spero and Phoebe jumped up from their respective spots on the couch and began to bark in excitement.

  Miranda was horrified that she’d somehow offended him. She’d thought it was a pretty good idea.

  Russ wiped tears from his eyes and patted Spero to calm him down. “Sorry! It’s just that I’ve been deaf for two years and no one has even thought to mention this device. I’m not familiar with it but then, I’m pretty low-tech.” He chuckled. “So, here comes inheritance rival Miranda Nolan who presents me with an option that could help my life beyond imagination. I don’t know why that strikes me as funny but it does. Thank you!”

  She blushed and found a notebook. “Hey, you’re welcome. I just hope it works and it really does help you. If so, I’ll buy a computer notepad thingee and a Dragon for Jesse.”

  “Who?”

  Russ appeared interested, so Miranda spent a few moments telling him, via the notebook, about her signing partner and how much she liked him and how proud she’d been that Jesse had jumped right into the dance classes without fear and even made some friends on his first day.

  Russ frowned. “I wish the kid wasn’t in a foster situation with someone who isn’t exactly savvy about special-needs children. Hopefully it’s only a temporary placement.”

  Miranda nodded before writing, “Perfect solution would be adoption by someone who’s adept at signing AND will love him for the cool, funny and smart child he is.”

  “I agree.” He glanced down at his watch. “Okay. Let’s be civilized and drink tea, then dive into more boxes. We’ve got ninety minutes. Not that it matters about some paralegal bringing the key since apparently this place gets more traffic than the diner down the street. I think we need the doors completely rekeyed since it appears someone has copies. Hernandez said he didn’t see indications of a forced entry.”

  Russ brought the tea into the living room and set Miranda’s cup down on an end table by the sofa. The dogs settled again on the couch, Phoebe using Spero’s back as a pillow. Russ took a sip from his own mug, then paused, staring at the wall behind the sofa.

  “What?” Miranda signed. “Problems?”

  He shook his head. “The opposite. I just need to stop every now and then and simply breathe in the atmosphere of this house. It’s a fascinating place—beyond Miss Virginia’s antiques. The house itself is an anomaly on this block. It’s a mix of Gothic Revival and the Craftsman cottage bungalows, so it should have been built over in the Norwood historic district near Highland Avenue. I did a little research and discovered the house was built in the late 1800s. The big surprise is that it didn’t get demolished in the 1950s when everyone was going for ranch or cottage.”

  Miranda blinked. You love this house, don’t you? she signed. I don’t mean just for memories of Virginia, but the house itself.

  “Yes.”

  Miranda nearly signed, Take it! It’s yours! You deserve it! Just let me have Virginia’s diaries, sewing basket and piano!

  Russ had turned his back and was drinking his tea before Miranda could act on that urge. By the time he’d set his glass down and said they’d best get to work, she’d had time to realize it was a little crazy to give up her inheritance. She loved this place, too. Besides, Russ might think she’d made the offer out of pity and despise her for even considering it.

  The pair spent the next hour and a half tearing open boxes and organizing the diaries by year. Neither Russ nor Miranda said a word. About forty minutes into the labeling process Miranda realized the silence was comfortable.... It was also the norm for Russ. She closed her eyes and tried to feel what that must be like. The never-ending, constant quiet. Her imagination was good, but even as focused as she was, sound still crept through. She could hear birds outside. She could hear street noises. She could hear the rustle of the fans in the room and the soft yips and snores emitted from Phoebe sleeping at her feet. Miranda wasn’t sure she would’ve been able to handle losing her hearing with the grace displayed by Russ and the people she’d met at The Cooper School, including Jesse. Russ could be gruff and impatient but she had to assume that was partly because they were on opposites sides of an estate battle.

  She opened her eyes. Russ had moved across the room and was standing by Virginia’s piano. He let his hand trail across the keys then noticed she was staring at him. He smiled wryly. “Asleep?”

  She smiled, grabbed the phone and crossed the room to hand it to him.

  No. Wndring how long to take to read all this once we’ve dated and reboxed evrythng. We don’t really have time snce also trying to figure out where all Virginia’s stuff needs to go. I mean stf we’re not keeping.

  He hesitated for a moment. “Actually that brings up something I’ve wanted to ask about. But I realize you’re pressed for time with the camp, so I’m not sure you want to take on anything else.” He took a deep breath before adding, “I also wanted to apologize for running out at your concert this afternoon.”

  She shook her head and signed, Not a concert. Just a fun thing for kids. No problem.

  “Well, it was rude of me. I could have at least waved.” He glanced down at the piano keys. The pain of missing music must be excruciating for him.

  She tentatively signed, Does it help at all having songs in your head?

  Russ nodded. “Obviously it’s not like hearing live music but it’s better than total silence.”

  This is probably stupid to ask but do you still play keyboards at all? I mean, just to keep up the technical skill?

  Russ hesitated so long Miranda was afraid her question had been too personal, or that he hadn’t understood her. Finally he said, “I do play. I guess I haven’t lost all hope that one day I might be able to hear at least a chord or two. After all, one never knows what medical device some brilliant scientist might create. At any rate, I’m sorry I ran out on your performance.”

  Her heart lurched with pleasure at hearing an apology that wasn’t needed and because Russ had felt close enough to her to be able to share that moment of honesty.

  She smiled, sensing it was time to lighten the conversation. It’s okay. Candy gets impatient when office furniture is waiting.

  Russ smiled back. “Believe me, she would have stalked me throughout the halls of that warehouse to get her beloved desk set up!”

  Miranda laughed. So, what did you want to ask me?

  “Ah, yes. Back to that. I could really use your help with something.”

  Miranda pretended she wasn’t astonished and signed, What do you need?

  “Kam Durani’s parents have asked me to put together a show of his work. There’s a gallery in the Highlands area that’s keen on featuring local talent....” His expression darkened momentarily. “I said I’d love to make all the arrangements, but there’s a problem and it’s slightly embarrassing.”

  “Go on.”

  “The owner and I used to date. She’s...well, let me be kind and merely say Darci’s a piece of work. Temperamental and pretty daffy, even though she’s brilliant when it comes to art. She doesn’t sign and doesn’t want to learn. She’s also extremely impatient and I need an interpreter who not only understands art but...seems to be able to talk to all kinds of people. I have to warn you, it could be awkward being around her since she tends to be inquisitive but I really want this show to be a success and she does run the best gallery in Birmingham. Plus...” He ducked down and began to play with Spero’s ears. They were joined by Phoebe who wanted in on the affection. “Um, I’d like for you to meet the Duranis and...uh...”

  Miranda waited for a finish to that thought but apparently Russ had nothing else to add. She nodded as she wrote in the notebook “Love to help. Been around temperamental divas all my life. I’ll survive.” She didn’t feel the need to say she was beginning to welcome any excuse to be with him. And she was truly interested in seeing more of Kamyar’s work. She wrote down that latter reaso
n, handed the notebook back to Russ and tried to avoid asking herself why she wanted to be around Russ Gerik so badly that she was willing to deal with an impatient ex-girlfriend.

  He smiled. “Can we meet here tomorrow, after your classes? Adding to my embarrassment, I hope you don’t mind driving—my car is in the shop.”

  “That’s fine.”

  A few minutes later the paralegal arrived with the key. Miranda looped Phoebe’s leash around her neck, waved to Russ and headed back toward her temporary digs with Tim and Farrah. Five minutes into the walk it struck her that Russ might have bitten back the fact that he wanted Kamyar Durani’s family to meet her so they could provide an opinion on the girl who might steal his inheritance.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  RUSS HADN’T TOLD Miranda much about Dr. Yusuf Durani and his wife, Abra, apart from the fact that Yusuf had been a colleague of Russ’s at Samford University and how much the Duranis had adored their son. Miranda had assumed she’d be meeting a couple in their mid-sixties, both dressed in black, who’d barely speak to Miranda, simply show them Kamyar’s paintings and usher them out of the house as fast as they possibly could.

  The attractive woman who greeted them at the door appeared to be in her late forties. Yusuf Durani seemed older but Miranda surmised that his neatly trimmed white beard might have added a few years. There was a warmth emanating from both Yusuf and Abra that made Miranda feel at home.

  Introductions were made quickly and Russ and Miranda were escorted inside, out of the freakish ninety-degree temperature that was still raging despite the dark. Abra sighed. “We left Kabul when we were in our early twenties and one would have thought we’d be accustomed to heat, but there’s something about the high temperatures in Alabama—often starting in May—that sap my energy. It’s simply not right.”

  “I totally agree,” Miranda said. “My dad doesn’t understand how I’ve withstood New York winters for six years and I patiently explain that one can always layer on the clothes. In the heat, you can only lose so much before arrests should be made for indecency! Although I do have to admit that Manhattan in the summer can be and often is nothing but disgusting and smart people leave the city in June.”