by Amanda Lee
That’s probably why no one at the Ridgeview Rehabilitation Center appeared to realize that the painting that hung on the wall behind the baby grand piano was a priceless Cézanne. Since the painting was stolen from an individual, and since said individual had agreed that the rehabilitation center could keep the painting, it would—at least for now—remain where it was.
As I looked at the Cézanne, I took Ted’s hand and thought of Mr. and Mrs. Cummings . . . and Mr. Padgett . . . and Dr. Vandehey, who knew how much his daughter would love this painting.
Sissy—or Portia—Cummings had been convicted of insurance fraud. It had been she who had given Dr. Vandehey all the details of the night they would be at Chad Jr.’s recital, the code to the security alarm, and the money. She really had detested the painting and had hoped Chad would take the insurance money and replace the Cézanne with something she found more aesthetically pleasing. There wasn’t enough evidence to convict Chad Cummings of any wrongdoing. I wasn’t sure whether or not he’d been complicit in the theft, but I was happy that Chad Jr. didn’t lose both his parents. Sissy was currently serving sixty months in federal prison while Chad was left to pay the fines and restitution. Since he allowed the painting to remain in the possession of the rehab center, he was given a lesser amount of restitution.
Under interrogation, Simon Benton had admitted that one of the security guards had facilitated his theft of the Padgett Collection. The collection was found intact, with the exception of the kilim rug in which Dr. Vandehey’s body was wrapped, in a storage locker owned by the security guard.
After adding his final message to the flash drive, Geoffrey Vandehey had gone to the museum to try to convince Simon Benton not to steal from his friend. As he’d done with George and me, when threatened with exposure, Benton had pulled out a gun. He’d shot Dr. Vandehey in the heart. The professor had been killed instantly. It just so happened that Mr. Benton and the security guard had been about to roll up the kilim rug and Dr. Vandehey fell onto it. They rolled him up in it and dropped his body in the alley behind the Seven-Year Stitch. They’d planned to take him farther but were afraid that his blood would leak onto the other textiles, making them worthless.
Once the Padgett Collection was recovered, Anderson Padgett donated it to the Tallulah Falls Museum and Historical Society. Josh had been given a raise and had finally stopped being so paranoid about losing his job.
Ted and I talked with Libby for a little while and then left her alone with her brother. We were walking hand in hand along a nature trail near the rehab center thinking about how good life was when a sudden shrill scream erupted.
It was Mom. She was calling to see how we liked Vancouver Island.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Amanda Lee lives in southwest Virginia with her husband and two beautiful children, a boy and a girl. She’s a full-time writer/editor/mom/wife and chief cook and bottle washer, and she loves every minute of it. Okay, not the bottle washing so much, but the rest of it is great.
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