Mission

by Camilla Chafer

  Mom frowned. "I don't think there's a class for that." Her garlic slice slipped off her plate and landed softly on the ground. She sighed. "Excuse me while I get another piece." Then she left her chair and wandered inside.

  "Are you busy for the next couple of days?" I asked Lily.

  "Tomorrow is my day off and I can get Ruby to cover for me if I need to. Why?"

  "I thought we could hang out and do some surveillance." I'd been thinking about it since our conversation, knowing how happy it would make her.

  "Not another word! I'm in!" Lily beamed.

  Maddox dropped into the seat next to me and said, "Your mom just offered me three of your single, female cousins."

  "Okay," I said, unsure what to do with that information.

  "I politely declined. It's not like I need a girlfriend to make sure your mom feeds me."

  I laughed. "Apparently, neither does Farid," I said, pointing to his partner, now tearing a slice of garlic bread and passing it to Tara.

  "So, did you find out anything about your hypothetical, huge cash stash?" asked Lily.

  "What cash stash?" asked Maddox.

  "Whoops! Was I not supposed to say anything?" Lily pulled a face.

  "It's fine," I told her before glancing at Maddox as I explained, "I'm trying to find out how someone could have a massive amount of cash without any visible means of earning it."

  "What are we talking about? A thousand bucks? Ten thousand?"

  "Try ten times that." I positioned the half full plate on my lap before reaching down and pulling the wad from my purse. We all gazed at it.

  Maddox whistled. "Is this connected to a case?"

  "Yes."

  "The bank robbery?"

  "Oh, no. A different case."

  "How do you know it's real?" he asked.

  "I checked the serial numbers. They're all random and different."

  "May I?" Maddox reached for it and thumbed through. "It's real, all right," he decided. "All the watermarks and serial numbers are present. It looks like a fresh minting though. That's unusual."

  "How is it unusual?" asked Lily. "Because there’s no cocaine dusting the bills?"

  "I'm not even going to answer or discuss how you would know that."

  "It's a well-known fact and I am a respectable mother and business owner," said Lily.

  "I knew you before all that," said Maddox. "I've seen you in action at that weird club where you used to work. Onto your question. The unusual bit is because I would only expect to see cash this pristine if it's literally just been delivered to the bank. See? No smudges, rips, or torn edges. No one's written anything on any of the bills, no pen marks. It's like the cash has never been circulated." He pulled out a few bills, examining them and passing them to us.

  "That is strange," I said.

  "I can run the serial numbers if you like?"

  I brightened. "That would be helpful, thank you."

  "Leave it with me and I'll get back to you."

  I waved for Maddox to take the cash and he tucked it inside his pants pocket.

  "Ten bucks says we never see him again now he that he has his early pension money," said Lily.

  "Unlikely," laughed Maddox. "It'll take a lot more cash than that to see the backside of me. You two got that kind of dough?"

  I smiled. "Nope."

  Chapter Thirteen

  With Maddox tracing down the cash, and Solomon still looking into Mackleton's background and associates, I could turn my attention fully back onto my investigation into Sophie Takahashi. Before going to sleep, I puzzled again over her sudden manifestation from nowhere three years ago, and that was still on my mind as I walked into the agency. What did I miss?

  I spent a few minutes idly searching for any recent records of a Sophie Gallo anywhere in Wisconsin but to no avail. As I leaned back in my chair, I briefly contemplated how annoying it was to try to track down people without any kind of social media presence. Even now, Sophie shied away from the limelight, just as her husband did. I wondered if that was part of what attracted Austen to her? A wife that wasn't prone to “conspicuous consumption” would naturally be desirable to someone as low-key as Austen.

  Since her past was proving more difficult to trace, I needed to talk to the people in Sophie's life now. On the paperwork Austen completed, I knew Sophie worked in a museum gift shop when they first met. Montgomery wasn't overrun with museums; if people sought culture, they could easily head into Boston for the day. We had a big museum in the center of the city that was reserved for traveling collections when they rotated through the city on national tours. In addition, there were several other smaller museums; one was dedicated to the city history and another kept a charming collection of clocks and other rare timepieces in a townhouse. There was a contemporary art gallery that had a particularly nice gift shop, and several smaller private galleries. Unfortunately, after consulting my notes I had no clue which one previously employed Sophie.

  I called Austen. "Any news?" he asked.

  "I have an FBI contact looking into the cash," I replied, "but no news yet."

  "The FBI? Is that a good thing? I mean, what if..."

  "I understand your concern but you asked me to find out what's going on no matter what." I stopped, realizing how harsh that must sound to a worried man. Softening my voice, I tried to be more reassuring. "My contact is discreet. If he finds anything that raises a red flag, I assure you, he'll tell me first."

  "That's what I'm afraid of. Raising red flags."

  "'What-ifs will also drive you crazy. Be patient, let me help you. Don't forgot we're also looking for a legitimate reason for all that cash." I paused to change the subject. "How is Sophie today?"

  "Actually there's some good news. An increase in her brain activity! Her doctor says that's very positive."

  "Great! I'm glad to hear it."

  "Do you have any other updates for me? I could really use some more good news right now."

  "I wish I did. I actually called to find out which museum Sophie used to work at?"

  "The city museum."

  "When did she stop working there?"

  “Shortly after we got married."

  "Do you know why she left?"

  "I think I can honestly say I don't know anything about my wife for certain, but she told me she decided it wasn't the right path for her because she didn't really enjoy retail work although she loved the museum. She was passionate about art and history. She read a lot about both subjects. I suggested she put her knowledge to work at a charity I could create but she said no. She wanted to do something else, possibly interior design after she found herself enjoying all the work going on at the house."

  "Was she close to any of the museum employees?"

  "She got on well with everyone. She spoke to Melinda and Brian the most. They came to our wedding. Her boss was called Laetitia."

  "Great. I plan to talk to them all today," I said.

  "Did you reach Zach?"

  "I did at Sky Outdoors. He didn't seem all that thrilled to answer my questions." I paused before telling Austen some of the nasty things Zach said. "Why?"

  "He stormed in here first thing and demanded to know why he was being questioned about his sister. I told him it was normal routine for insurance companies. I'm not sure he believed me though."

  "Is there any particular reason you don't want to tell him why you hired me?"

  "He's her brother. If she's hiding something, he probably already knows about it. And I don't like him. There, I've said it. I never liked the guy."

  "If I speak to him again, I'll make sure to tell him I was sent by your insurers."

  Austen was silent so long that I opened my mouth to prompt him, but before I could, he said, "Zach wanted to know what kind of insurance policy I had on Sophie."

  "Do you mean life or unforeseeable injury?"

  "He wanted to know how much money the payoff was," said Austen. "He said she promised to always make sure he was okay and then said he knew
I would respect that. I didn't like his tone. Plus, he jumped straight into asking about the value of her life insurance policy. You could have been an agent from our home insurance for all he knew!"

  "Did he directly ask you for money?" I doodled on the notepad, wondering why Zach wanted to know the value of the policy. Was he fed up watching his sister enjoy a lifestyle he could never afford? Did he feel entitled to some of her good fortune? As I doodled the dollar signs, another thought came to me. Was Zach more driven by money than his sister was? I couldn't imagine any of my siblings wondering what they might gain financially through my death. And Lily already knew she would inherit my entire closet.

  "No, but he certainly made it clear that he expected to get some."

  "But did he say that explicitly?" I pressed.

  "No," Austen conceded, "he didn't. It was fully expressed in his tone."

  "Have you updated him on Sophie's condition?"

  "Not yet. I expect he'll be at the hospital today so I'll tell him the latest improvement then."

  I said goodbye and disconnected, grabbing my purse, and heading downstairs. Not having a car to zip around the city sucked, and I knew it was an issue I would have to address soon. Until then, I called my favorite car service: Lily. Lily agreed to pick me up before dropping Poppy off at day care. "This is so exciting," she said when I got in the car after flagging her down from the sidewalk outside the agency. "We haven't cracked a case together in ages."

  "Why is Poppy wearing a false moustache?" I asked, wagging my fingers at the baby. The moustache wiggled as Poppy flapped her hands in glee.

  Lily bit back a smile. "She's in disguise."

  "As what? The first baby with facial hair?"

  "Maybe I just didn't want anyone identifying her later."

  "Which explains the blue outfit." I leaned back and removed the moustache and tickled her chin. Poppy giggled. "She's not even coming with us," I pointed out.

  "Not for lack of trying," said Lily.

  Once Poppy was safely distracted at daycare, Lily said. "I knew you'd need my help. What's the plan?"

  I explained that we were heading to the museum to ask a few questions and she beamed a huge smile. "I never used to look forward to our field trips to any museums," she said. "How my life has changed! Do you remember that time we went to the silent rave at a museum and had to wear those headphones and everyone was dancing the night away?"

  "Was that the same night you stole a fossil from one of the exhibits?"

  "Still have it." Lily beamed proudly.

  "You should probably give it back. It's probably millions of years old."

  "And yet I'm taking better care of it than they did."

  I fixed her with a frown. "How so?"

  Lily shrugged. "No one stole it from me!"

  I considered debating my contrasting point of view with her but realized it was probably fruitless. Plus, Lily had a good point. She totally got away with the crime. What if she returned the fossil, only to be arrested? Since no one seemed to be missing it, did that mean the crime never really happened? That philosophy was one I couldn't ponder without my synapses exploding.

  "So, is this a day out too?" asked Lily. "Are we exposing ourselves to more culture? We hardly ever get cultured. Perhaps we should do it more often. Serena signed Victoria up to art appreciation classes on Sunday morning."

  "That poor kid gets enrolled in everything."

  "True. So what are we doing?"

  "We're investigating a former employee."

  "For what?"

  "So far, for nothing."

  "Thrilling!"

  "But they might have done something," I said, adding the highlights of the case as Lily's eyebrows rose in growing curiosity.

  "So are we good cop, bad cop? I want to be the bad cop." Lily's happy demeanor dropped and she fixed me with a stern look. Then a curl shot loose from her ponytail and bounced around her face, quickly followed by a second one. I bit my cheek to keep from laughing as she merely blinked in surprise.

  "We're not interrogating anyone. Just asking questions, politely."

  "We could have lunch there. The café on the second floor is quite pretty."

  I brightened. "Good plan."

  "We can ask the employees that work at the café too. Multi-tasking," added Lily with a knowing nod. "Sandwiches and answers."

  I had to agree that they were two of my favorite things but that devolved into a heated discussion about other foods before concurring in general, didn’t everything taste better when encased between two slices of bread? By the time we parked and walked up the museum's steps, we were both hungry. Unfortunately, it was long before any reasonable lunch hour.

  As I reached for the heavy door, Lily put her hand on my forearm and whispered, "What are you going to tell them about the investigation?" she asked.

  "Nothing," I decided. "I'll just say I'm a friend of hers with a get-well card that I would like all of Sophie's friends to sign."

  "Did you bring a card with you?"

  "I can buy one in the gift shop. Then I'm going to locate all of her colleagues, ask them to sign it, and question them at the same time."

  "I wonder if Sophie knows what's going on around her. I've heard that sometimes people in comas can hear and understand conversations."

  "Her husband talks to her. He barely leaves her side."

  "He must be worried sick."

  "He is. The nurses have to force him to go home every so often."

  Humor left Lily's eyes. "That's really sad," she sighed, reaching for my hand and squeezing it. I didn't need to ask what she was thinking. I knew she flashed back to the time Solomon was rendered unconscious too.

  "Let's go," I told her.

  The museum was built more than a hundred and fifty years ago and famous for being one of the oldest buildings in Montgomery. The foyer was big and square with a stunning tiled floor and a horseshoe-shaped desk in the center. We paid our entry fee and walked into the main hall where several corridors led to rooms that opened into each other. As a kid, my parents brought me here often and I clearly remembered starting at one side, skipping through all the rooms, and eventually arriving at the other side. Then we took the grand sweeping staircase, lit by a huge glass dome ceiling, to the upper level and repeated the process. Part of me wanted to take the time to walk around and admire the familiar building but I had an important job to do.

  "This way," I said, turning toward the gift shop, which occupied one of the long rooms at the front of the museum.

  "The gift shop is my favorite part in the whole museum," said Lily.

  "What about the dinosaur exhibit?" I asked. Lily shook her head. "The Fashion Through the Ages room?" I asked. Every time we visited, which wasn't very often now, we gravitated there.

  "Nope."

  "The butterfly room?"

  "Pretty, but sad."

  "The chocolate room?"

  Lily paused and unfolded the map we received with the tickets, her eyes searching. "There's really a chocolate room?"

  I bit back a smile. "Nope."

  She stuffed the map in her pocket. "Then the gift shop is my favorite part."

  Instead of heading directly for the cashier's desk, we browsed the cards and magnets and fripperies lining the thick shelves that spanned the walls. I briefly contemplated buying a few items from the bargain display for my nieces and nephews, then decided it would be nicer to bring them along for the afternoon and let them choose their own inexpensive trinkets. My oldest nephew, Patrick, would probably think it was lame but perhaps I could persuade him to come to the gaming exhibition scheduled for later in the year. At one of the rotating card displays, I selected a pretty card for Sophie and walked over to the desk.

  "Is that everything?" asked the cashier when I slid it towards him. He had large, brown spectacles, a flop of unruly hair and his shirt was so appallingly awful that I figured it was probably in style.

  "Actually, I'm buying this for a friend who used to work here,
" I explained as I paid. "She had a terrible accident and I thought it would be nice to ask her former colleagues to sign it. Her name is Sophie Takahashi. You probably knew her as Sophie Gallo."

  "Sophie? Oh, gosh, yes, she used to work right here in the gift shop!"

  "You must be Brian?" I asked.

  He nodded, smiling as he slid the card into a paper wrapper and handed me my change. "That's right. An accident, you say? That's terrible. What happened?"

  "She fell from a second-floor balcony."

  His jaw dropped. "How awful. Was she badly injured?"

  I nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. She's been unconscious for a week. It would be great if she knew how many people were thinking of her when she wakes up. Would you please sign this card for her?"

  "Of course! Let me find a pen... Poor Sophie! She was such a darling when she worked here. We all miss her."

  "She left right after she got married, is that correct?"

  "Right. I thought maybe she was a bit old-fashioned to quit just because she got married but she said no, that wasn't it at all. She said she just wanted a change," volunteered Brian. He frowned as he stared at me "I don’t remember you from the wedding…"

  "I’m a new friend. Did Sophie work here very long?"

  "A few months. Mostly in the gift shop but she gave tours in her spare time too. She knew so much about history and art. Truthfully, her talents were wasted in the gift shop but there isn't much chance of a promotion here. I said she could give talks along with the tours, but she said she was too shy for that." Brian shook his head. "I know Laeticia was pushing her to give a few talks. She thought Sophie would be a great asset and I agree."

  "Laeticia? Is she the manager?"

  "Yes, that's right."

  "What did Laeticia want Sophie to give talks on?"

  "Sophie knew a lot about art history. Ask her anything about the pre-Raphaelites or post-modernism and she could go on for hours. As for her knowledge about American art, well, Sophie was an encyclopedia! I told her she should apply for a job at one of the big museums in Boston but she always laughed. I really meant it though. She could have gone to any university and aced the classes but she said she was too old for that now, which was crazy because she's like, not that old at all! What should I write?"