Ghost in the Gallery

by Kathi Daley

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “It does seem the suspect pool is pretty small given the situation with the alarm. And I don’t get why she would wait so late to do the ghost thing. Colt said that Damian died between two and four a.m. Why wouldn’t Elena just move whatever she was going to move before she left at the end of the day? No one would be any the wiser. It doesn’t make a lick of sense that she would stay until twelve-thirty, go home, and then come back a few hours later to do her ghost thing.”

  “Maybe she was doing something other than just moving stuff at night. Maybe she moved stuff around as a distraction to what was really going on, and maybe whatever that was couldn’t be accomplished until a certain time.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  Georgia shrugged. “Maybe she was dealing drugs out of her storeroom. Maybe she was using the artwork to smuggle them in or out. I know that’s a fantastic explanation, but it is an explanation that could explain all the variables.”

  I paused to consider this. “It’s actually a good explanation. If she was moving drugs, or some other sort of contraband, in or out through the gallery, that might account for the missing artwork that was returned. I can imagine a scenario where she would take possession of a painting that had diamonds or something in the frame, and then she’d send the piece of art out to have the contraband removed and then once it was clean, the piece of art would be returned. I suppose she might have figured that by moving stuff around, employees, as well as the resident artists, would be less likely to miss a single piece that had been removed for processing.”

  “Or maybe stolen paintings were beneath the missing paintings,” Georgia said. “That works better than drugs or diamonds. Maybe valuable artwork had been stolen overseas, and then a canvas from a local artist is placed over the top and maybe even transported by that artist. This would allow the stolen paintings to pass through customs without being noticed.”

  “I suppose that could be what was going on, although it seems like a pretty elaborate scheme to have been planned by Elena, and the paintings that most recently turned up missing were pieces by Xander Bloomfield, who’s based in New York and not overseas.”

  Opening the oven, Georgia rearranged the casseroles. “Maybe. But perhaps Elena is a cog in a bigger scheme and not the mastermind. Maybe Damian was in on it, allowing his pieces to be used in the art theft operation, or if he wasn’t in on it, perhaps he figured out what was going on and confronted Elena, and she killed him.”

  “I suppose that could be what was going on, although, as I said, it seems that an art theft operation like that would require a lot of planning and whatever is going on at the gallery seems sort of off the cuff. I suppose we’ll find out what exactly is going on once the murder case is solved.”

  “Maybe Colt will have news to share,” Georgia said. “Did he say when he’d be here?”

  “He just said he was on his way. Let’s not bring any of this up over dinner. There will be way too many people in attendance to have a conversation like that.”

  “Of course. I’d never mention a murder during dinner.” She turned down the oven. “I think we’re all here and ready other than Colt. As soon as he gets here, I’ll put the bread in the oven to heat.”

  Colt arrived a few minutes later. I gave him a quick kiss hello and then pitched in to help Georgia and Jeremy set up the buffet table. We asked everyone in attendance to select a seat, take a plate, and help themselves. The dinner party turned out to be a fun and memorable event. Once everyone had eaten, and our guests had either gone home or up to their rooms, Colt and I headed to the cottage while Tanner and Mylie helped Georgia and Jeremy in the kitchen. I could see that Colt was tired, and the smile on his face looked forced, but when he pulled me into his arms, I could sense genuine caring.

  “Tough day?” I asked after we’d lit the fire and settled on the sofa.

  “It was a tough one,” he confirmed.

  “I spoke to Nikki. She told me that you arrested Elena.”

  He nodded. “I’m still not a hundred percent certain that she killed Damian, but I did find out enough to cause those higher up the food chain than me to demand an arrest.”

  “Can you talk about it?” I asked.

  He rubbed his hand over his eyes before answering. “Everything I found is pretty much public information that anyone can find if they know where to look for it, so I guess it won’t hurt to share what I know. As it turns out, before moving to Holiday Bay and opening the art gallery, Elena Cromwell worked for a gallery in Chicago under the name Helena Baxter. The thing I found most interesting about this is that during her time as an employee, several valuable pieces of art went missing and were never recovered. Given the pieces that seemed to have disappeared from the Holiday Bay gallery during the Bloomfield showing, I decided to dig deeper. I started by asking Elena about the name change. She told me that Helena was her given name, which she shortened to Elena because she felt it better represented her artsy side, and Baxter was her married name, which she gave up in favor of her maiden name after her divorce.”

  “I guess that all makes sense.”

  Colt nodded. “I did some checking to make certain she was telling the truth and was able to find paperwork confirming that Elena was born Helena Cromwell. Anyway, despite the fact that she had an explanation for the name change. I was still interested in the fact that there had been an unsolved art theft at the Chicago gallery where she worked shortly before she left. I looked into her background and found a resume that listed her as having had experience at a gallery in Los Angeles. While it isn’t odd for a person to travel around and work for several enterprises in their given field, I did find it interesting that the gallery in Los Angeles had likewise suffered the loss of several extremely valuable works of art shortly before Helena quit and moved on.”

  “Do you think she’s an art thief?” I asked. “Georgia and I discussed a similar possibility.”

  “I think that it’s a possibility that Elena was involved in the thefts in all these galleries, although I’m not sure why she would steal artwork from her own gallery which she only recently opened, and is still trying to get established. That seems counterproductive to me. And if theft is her real motive for working in the art world, why go to all the trouble of opening her own place? Why not just get another job in an established gallery?”

  “Good question.”

  “While I was trying to track down Helena’s whereabouts during the three-year gap between the Los Angeles job and the job in Chicago, I heard from the security company that confirmed the security system was activated at twelve twenty-one a.m. on the twelfth and then deactivated at two forty-eight a.m. on the twelfth. Both times, the correct code was punched into the keypad both at the door and at the interior keypad, which activates or deactivates the alarm and the other security measures set into place.”

  “So, there isn’t a physical key for the front door?” I confirmed.

  “No. The building is accessed with a keypad. Once inside, the person accessing the building must then enter a second code to deactivate the alarm. Five people have both codes: Elena, Liv, Jennifer, the cleaning lady, and the security company. According to the security company, Jennifer and the cleaning lady only have level one codes, which means they can get into and out of the building, and deactivate the alarm, but they can’t access the settings. Only Elena, Liv, and the security company have the ability to make adjustments such as turning the cameras off, which did occur on the night Damian died, as well as all the other times Elena returned to the gallery to move stuff around.”

  “So Elena, her assistant, or someone from the security company had to have been at the gallery on the night Damian died.”

  Colt nodded. “That’s the way it looks. Elena swears that she’s innocent. She has assured me that she didn’t return to the gallery early Monday morning after leaving late Sunday. She has also assured me that she would never kill Damian. She said that they were longtime friends. I have to admit that her statement relat
ing to the longevity of her relationship with Damian got me to wondering about the specifics of that relationship. I did some digging and found out that Damian worked with Helena at the same Los Angeles and Chicago galleries. I also found a reference in Damian’s file to an art school in Paris. I checked, and during the years Damian was in art school, Helena worked at a gallery in Paris.”

  “Wait,” I said, my brows furrowing. “I thought Damian was like twenty-five.”

  “Forty-two.”

  My brows shot up. “Forty-two? I wonder if Nikki knows that. The guy looked so young.”

  “I agree that he could easily pass for twenty-five, but according to the background check I conducted, Damian was forty-two. He worked as a salesperson at the gallery in Los Angeles from two thousand twelve until two thousand thirteen. He then moved to Paris and attended art school between two thousand thirteen and two thousand sixteen. In the early winter of two thousand seventeen, he worked as both an art contributor and a part-time salesperson for a gallery in Hawaii. He then moved to Chicago late in twenty eighteen, where he worked in art restoration until Elena opened this gallery, and he moved to Maine with her.”

  “Moved to Maine?” I asked. “Damian told Nikki he was only in town for a short while. He told her he was in the area to show his work but would be leaving before the end of the year.”

  “As far as I can tell, he was living with Elena. Or at least staying with her in her home. I really don’t know if they were ‘living together’ in a literal sense.”

  “Okay, so have Elena and Damian been together since LA?”

  “I found evidence that Helena and Damian worked for the same gallery in LA, and were in Paris at the same time. I didn’t find evidence that Helena was in Hawaii with Damian. I don’t know where she was. Maybe that was when she was married. Anyway, they didn’t pop up together again until Chicago. Maybe they’re friends. Maybe lovers. Perhaps they’re partners in some sort of art theft ring. I don’t have all the pieces yet, but I have enough to hold her temporarily. I’m hoping that the pressure will crack her and that she’ll confess her part in this whole thing.”

  “Seems unlikely, but maybe.” I twisted slightly, so I was facing Colt. “Just so you know, Nikki asked me to help her look into Damian’s death. She’s certain Elena is innocent. I told her we could talk about it Monday morning, and she has promised to stay away from the investigation until then, but it might help her to deal with the reality of what’s going on if she had more of the details.”

  “I guess I can feed her a few tidbits to keep her happy. Since all our evidence is circumstantial, there’s a good chance that the judge will let Elena go at the arraignment.”

  “Do you plan to work tomorrow?” I wondered.

  “Unfortunately, I do plan to work. I have a few other ideas I want to follow up on before the arraignment.” He reached out a hand and touched my hair. “But, I’m free tonight, and I remembered to bring my little black bag.”

  I smiled. “So you’re staying?”

  “I’d like to.”

  “Do you want to take a walk or watch a movie or something?”

  He leaned forward and captured my lips. “A walk would be fine, but it has gotten chilly, and a movie will just put me to sleep. I would, however, be very interested in something.” He drew out the word to leave no doubt of his intent.

  I shifted onto his lap and lowered my head. “Something sounds good to me.”

  Chapter 11

  Nikki showed up bright and early Monday morning. Colt had gotten up early on Sunday and then left for work. He’d worked all day Sunday, calling only once to let me know he wouldn’t be by, so we never connected. As far as I knew, Elena was still in jail and would most likely be arraigned today.

  “So I waited like you asked, but now it’s time to help Elena,” Nikki jumped right in.

  “Why are you so certain that Elena didn’t kill Damian?” I asked.

  Nikki shrugged. “She doesn’t seem like the sort to kill anyone. Besides, she barely even knew Damian. Why would she kill him?”

  “Damian and Elena have known each other for years,” I countered. “I don’t know when they met, but Colt found employment records that prove that Elena and Damian worked together in Los Angeles almost eight years ago.”

  “Eight years? But that can’t be right. Damian wasn’t old enough to have worked with Elena eight years ago.”

  “He was forty-two,” I informed Nikki.

  She looked shocked to the core. “Forty-two? No, that can’t be right.” She paused. “I guess I never actually asked him his age, but I assumed he was around twenty-five.”

  “According to Colt, he was forty-two. And, also according to Colt, not only did he work with Elena at the gallery in LA, but they went to Paris together, and then after a brief time apart, they worked together in Chicago before coming to Holiday Bay.”

  Nikki’s face paled, making her eyes seem even larger than normal. “But he didn’t act like he’d known this woman for all that long. He didn’t act like they’d gone to Paris together.” She looked at me. “Were they intimate?”

  “I think so, although I can’t know for certain. What I do know is that there seems to have been more going on with both Elena and Damian than we originally thought. Colt not only had good reason to arrest Elena for Damian’s murder, but he thinks the DA is going to agree to try the case.”

  “What about bail?” Nikki asked.

  “I don’t know if she’ll be granted bail, but if she is, the judge will determine the amount. I have no idea how much that will be. I guess we’ll probably know by the end of the day. Colt told me he was pretty sure Elena would be arraigned today.”

  “Forty-two.” She shook her head slowly back and forth as if the concept refused to sit right no matter how hard she tried to wrap her head around it. “I really don’t understand why he tried to downplay the fact that he and Elena were friends. I mean, sure they were friends. Damian was the sort of person who made friends right away. But he never let on that they had known each other so long. Neither of them had.” She looked up and met my eyes. “Colt must have more on Elena than just the fact that she knew Damian from before.”

  “I’m sure he does, but he didn’t tell me everything. He filled me in on the little bit I just shared with you on Saturday, but I didn’t even see him yesterday.”

  “Maybe you can call him to get an update,” Nikki suggested.

  “I will, in a bit. It’s still early. How about we go next door and see what Georgia has cooked up for breakfast? By the time we eat, it should be late enough to call Colt for an update.”

  “Okay,” Nikki reluctantly agreed. “Forty-two. That is just so old. There has to be a mistake of some sort. If Damian was an old man, I would have noticed.”

  I didn’t think that forty-two was all that old, but I supposed when you were Nikki’s age, forty-two seemed like a hundred and two.

  When we arrived at the inn, we found Georgia, Alaric, Amy, and a woman who’d been with us for the weekend named Gina. The other guests had checked out yesterday afternoon, and we weren’t expecting new guests until later in the week.

  “Something sure smells good,” I said.

  “Eggs Benedict,” Georgia informed me. “I made half the traditional way with ham and hollandaise sauce, and the other half with chorizo patties and a creamy chipotle sauce.”

  “Oh, I’ll take spicy,” I said, heading over to the buffet table. There was also fruit salad and hash browns.

  “I think I’ll stick with fruit,” Nikki said. “I’m too upset to eat.”

  “Worried about Elena?” Amy asked.

  Nikki nodded. “I guess I’m sort of worried about me as well. I thought I had a good grip on what had and had not gone down the past two weeks, but it seems as if I was kept well in the dark. I guess I understand that. I was a volunteer, not an artist or employee, but I really thought Elena liked me, and I definitely thought there was something just waiting to be explored between Damian and me.” S
he poured a cup of coffee. “I guess I was wrong.”

  “Misinterpreting signals is exactly something I would do and have done,” Amy said. “I feel your pain.”

  “And just because Elena didn’t tell you everything doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you,” Georgia added.

  “I guess,” Nikki sighed.

  I couldn’t help but notice that despite her declaration that she couldn’t eat and would stick to fruit, Nikki went ahead and helped herself to a plain English muffin and a piece of ham. Maybe she wasn’t quite as upset as she wanted to make us all believe. Nikki was a sweet girl, and I liked her a lot, but she did have a tendency to be a drama queen.

  “Where are Ramos and Molly?” I asked after realizing for the first time that I hadn’t seen them in the cottage, and I didn’t see them now. I’d just assumed Georgia had brought them to the inn with her when I found Rufus alone in the main living area of the cottage when I’d first gotten up.

  “There’s some sort of teacher planning day at Annabelle’s school, so she’s home today. Jeremy and Annabelle took the dogs for a walk. I think they went over to Tanner’s place to see the pony.”

  “Pony? I didn’t know he was getting a pony,” I said. “In fact, the only animals I’ve ever seen at his place are dogs.”

  “The pony isn’t his,” Nikki said.

  “He’s keeping him for a friend who’s out of town for a few days,” Georgia added. “The friend needed someone to take delivery from the breeder, and Tanner had kennel space that’s both fenced and vacant, so he agreed to help the guy out. I’m going to walk over later and take a peek if you want to come with me.”

  I glanced at Nikki. “I told Nikki I’d help her with some things today, but maybe tomorrow.”

  “He is cute,” Nikki said. “He’s so small. I feel sorry for him. I think he’s missing his mom, but Tanner is really trying to make him feel comfortable. I even saw him sitting in the stall he’d assigned the little guy last night when I came home from town. He was talking to him as if he could really understand what he was saying. He kept assuring him that while things were scary now, he was going to grow into a big strong stallion and have a wonderful life.”