“Don’t forget to check with DelMonico, too,” she said. “He may have something that matches.”
“I’m way ahead of you,” Rod said.
She nodded. “Okay. Sam? What do you still need to do?”
He drew in a deep breath and looked around the yard. “Not much, really. I had already taken all the new glazed pieces in, and I was just going to neaten up the fire pit in case anyone wanted to see how I do my firing.”
She moved close to him, her back still to the news team. “Can we finish that up tomorrow? If we stay here, I don’t care what we do, it might be on the ten o’clock news.”
Sam glared over her shoulder at the camera pointed their way. “Yeah, I see that. Okay, let’s go.”
“Rod, you got any questions, you call us, okay?”
“Sure, Lacey. You guys go ahead. We’ll wrap it up and be right behind you.”
Sam and Lacey went in the back door of the studio. The door to the supply room was still open, and Lacey slipped inside to see the new pieces. Sam had set them on shelves, some still with bits of ash clinging to them.
“Wow, these are gorgeous,” she said. The glazed colors gleamed, amethyst and gold, teal and copper. Even without being cleaned yet, they were stunning. “New colors,” she noted.
Sam shrugged. “Yeah. I figured what the hell, I’d go for broke. This week has been so crazy, nothing’s gone according to plan. I figured I’d just wing it.”
She moved close and leaned against him. “It’ll all be over tomorrow night.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I thought this would be a great way to show your work to the world. It’s turned into a fiasco, hasn’t it?”
He slid his arm around her waist. “No. It’s fine. Well, it is what it is, but we’re almost done.” He kissed her temple. “Let’s go home and veg out.”
“That sounds like a plan,” she said. “Speaking of vegging out, wanna pick up a pizza on your way home?”
He pulled out his truck keys. “I can do that.”
“Perfect,” she said. “I’ll see you at home.”
~~~
FIFTEEN
Friday was a complete whirlwind. Lacey went with Sam to the studio—with her gun—and they cleaned the last new pieces and then placed all his wares pleasingly on the shelves. Sam organized his fire pit with a wood pile beside it so people could see how he fired his pots. He told Lacey he might even do a small demonstration if anyone were interested. She just reminded him to keep an eye on the traffic in the street.
She set the vertical banners in the corners of the display room and thought they made a pleasing contrast to the horizontal shelves. She prepared Sam’s work table for the caterers, placing a narrow Navajo rug over the oilcloth surface, then it was time to grab some lunch, go home and get cleaned up.
As Lacey showered, she had to agree with Sam; she’d be glad when this was all behind them. It had certainly seemed like a good idea at the time—and maybe still was, depending on people’s reaction to Sam’s artwork—but they were both pretty much out of their depth. Neither were extroverts; neither were gregarious and good at small talk.
Buckle up, Buttercup, she told herself. You planned this silly thing; now see it through.
And she would.
At a quarter to six, she opened the front door, leaving just the screen closed to keep the bugs out, and saw Tommy and Sharon Belvedere coming up the walkway.
“Hey, guys.” She waved. The homicide cop and his wife both waved back.
“We’re early,” Sharon said. “I couldn’t wait.”
“No problem,” Lacey said. She gave them both quick hugs. “Come on in.”
“I confess it’s purely selfish,” Sharon continued. She went inside and hugged Sam. “I love that bowl you made me when you first opened up, and I’m dying to see the new stuff. Ooh…”
Her eye caught by the bright colors of the Fauvist pieces, she moved into the display area to browse.
Tommy joined Sam and Lacey near the table laden with food and drink.
“The place looks great,” he told Sam, pumping his hand.
“Thanks,” Sam said. “It’s not much compared to most art galleries, but it suits me.”
“You’re not going to get all famous and then quit helping the PD track down criminals, are you?” Sam and Lacey had helped Tommy solve a case involving a serial killer just a few months earlier.
“I doubt you’ll have to worry about that,” Sam replied sardonically.
“Well, that’s a relief.” Tommy winked at Lacey. “We’d have a tough go of it if we lost our secret weapon.” He popped a small cracker and a piece of cheese in his mouth.
“Wine?” Lacey offered.
“Just a small one,” he said. “I’m driving.”
Lacey poured him a half a glass. The stemmed flutes were small anyway, more for small sips than serious drinking. No way was this party going to get raucous.
“Okay,” Sharon called from the front room. “I need Sam to explain something to me.”
“Uh oh,” Lacey said, laughing. “You’re up.”
“Don’t let her buy all the best ones,” Tommy cautioned. “I don’t think I can afford it.”
“Aw, come on,” Lacey said as Sam sauntered away. “You didn’t get a nice bonus after that last case wrapped up?”
“Bonus,” Tommy snorted. “I wish.”
They both stood quietly for a moment, watching Sam and Sharon as they discussed a couple of pieces. Sam wore black pants, a stark white shirt and a turquoise bolo tie. His dark ponytail hung down his back, gleaming blue-black under the lights.
“What’s this about someone shooting at Sam yesterday?” Tommy asked in a low voice.
“Oh, that.” Lacey blew out a breath. “We’re pretty sure it’s a guy from Vegas, the brother of that drug lord we caught up with last year. He’s apparently blaming Sam for his current difficulties. I’m sure bad decisions and illegal activities had nothing to do with it.”
“Yeah, right,” Tommy scoffed. “These guys always think they’re so smart. They think they’ll never be caught.”
“Exactly,” Lacey said. “But, hey, their stupidity and overconfidence sure makes our job easier, right?” She glanced over at Tommy. “I mean, your job.”
Tommy chuckled. “Yours, too. You may not be on the payroll, but we’re on the same side.”
“Lacey.” Sam signaled her with a wave.
“Looks like we’ve made a decision.” She grinned at Tommy. “Time to close the sale.”
Tommy groaned. “Please, not an expensive one.”
Lacey traded places with Sam and noted Sharon’s choice. It was one of the Fauvist serving platters, striking with its jewel-like color.
“Oh, I love this one,” Lacey said. “Good choice.” She turned the platter over carefully and laid it bottom up. Then she accessed a small, flat bag at her waist. “I don’t know if Sam told you, but we’ve numbered all these. See here, next to the price sticker?” Sam had inscribed a number twelve on the unglazed foot of the piece. Lacey pulled a small notebook from her bag and wrote Sharon’s name next to the number in her book. Sharon handed over several bills and Lacey took a “sold” sticker from her bag, turned the platter over and put the sticker on one side of the glazed surface. “We’ll bag it up for you when you’re ready to go.”
“Mine,” Sharon whispered, running her hands over the silky surface.
Lacey laughed. “And there’s more where that came from.”
Other people arrived. Sam’s ex, Christine, and her husband, Ed LaRosa, came in with the three kids, Daniel, Tori and Kenzie. Kenzie ran to hug her dad and Lacey, but Daniel, with his girlfriend by the hand, was way too cool for that.
Some of Sam’s friends from his previous construction work showed up, and more LAPD people joined in. Shirley So, Captain Shaw’s administrative assistant, and her husband came, as well as the captain himself. Marty, the sketch artist, arrived, and Rod and Dolan both came. Lacey was kept busy making introductions and offering fo
od and drink as Sam answered questions about his art.
Then Lacey noticed the white van. “Oh, no,” she groaned.
Sharon and Christine glanced outside.
“It’s Marina Vasquez,” Lacey said. “ABC News.”
Christine’s brow creased with confusion. “But that’s a good thing, right? Don’t you want news coverage?”
Lacey leaned close so she could keep her voice low. “Someone shot at Sam yesterday in a drive-by. He wasn’t hit, but Marina will want to talk about it, I’m sure. That woman.” She shook her head.
Lacey decided to be proactive. She met Marina and Herb at the door and guided them to the food and wine.
“Marina, Herb, good to see you. Come on in. What can I get you? Wine? Water? Soda?”
“Uh, nothing, thanks.” Marina scanned the crowded room and her eyes caught on Sam talking to several people near his artwork. “We’d love to get a short clip with Sam.”
“Sure,” Lacey said. “Maybe later when it thins out a little, okay? Help yourself to cheese and crackers, veggies, dip.”
Marina nibbled a baby carrot and took stock of the guests that crowded the small area. “You’ve got half the LAPD here,” she noted. “Guess there shouldn’t be any more shootings tonight, huh?”
Lacey winced, wishing Marina would keep her voice down. “Not if they’re smart,” she said. But then she remembered her earlier conversation with Tommy.
“Lacey,” Shirley called. “Would you help me with this?” she held up one of Sam’s small traditional pieces.
“Excuse me,” Lacey said to Marina. “Relax. Enjoy.”
The press of people made it difficult to get from one side of the room to the other, but once Lacey had met Shirley in front of the display shelves, she found herself a captive there by the guests who wanted to buy a genuine Firecloud. One by one the pieces were tagged with “sold” stickers, and Lacey’s notebook—and her money bag—was filling up.
She was caught off guard when the light on Herb’s camera suddenly flared and Marina pushed up to Sam with her microphone. The other guests, more polite than the reporter, edged back to give them room.
“This is Marina Vasquez, ABC News, and I’m here with Sam Firecloud, noted medium and ceramic artist. Sam, you’ve got quite a turnout here.”
“Yes,” Sam said. Lacey noted he kept his voice even, although she suspected that was with effort. “We’re very gratified to see all our friends here. Lacey did a great job organizing this.”
“Yes, well, congratulations. But I want to talk about something else…”
Marina’s voice drifted off. Lacey looked more closely. The reporter’s eyes were slightly crossed. Very quickly she rubbed her eyes, then turned back to the camera with a wide smile.
“Yesterday, you were the target of a—ow!”
Marina put a hand to her ear and rubbed the lobe. “Hey! Someone pinched my ear!” She looked angrily over at Sam.
“Not me,” he said quickly. He raised both hands in innocence, but Lacey could see a slight ripple of his lips as he contained a smile.
“Well, who did that?” Marina looked all around, but no one was close to her.
There was no answer.
Exhaling in a huff, Marina pulled herself together and faced the camera. “Keep going,” she told Herb. “Now, Sam, about yesterday…”
Suddenly the woman’s eyes widened and her mouth twisted into an O of shock. She let out a screech and jumped behind Sam, almost dropping her microphone.
“What was that?” she demanded. From behind Sam’s shoulder, she pointed toward Herb and his camera.
“What was what?” Sam asked.
Herb pulled away from the eyepiece and frowned at Marina. “What was what? I didn’t see anything.”
“There was something there,” the reporter insisted. “Right in front of me. Right here.” She put out her arm, one finger pointing, then immediately howled and shrank back behind Sam.
“That’s Theodora!” Kenzie said. “She won’t hurt you.”
Marina glared at the child.
“Who’s Theodora?” Sharon asked. A murmur of uneasiness rolled through the crowd.
Sam held up his hands in a peace-making gesture. “Please, folks, don’t be alarmed. Theodora is a ghost. She lives here. But she won’t bother you.”
“Like hell,” Marina said. “She pinched me.”
“Maybe she doesn’t care for your reporting style,” Sam said. He kept his face straight, but his eyes sparkled. “Let’s skip that interview, okay? Some other time.” He moved toward the table. “We’ve still got food over here, folks. Come on and eat up, or Lacey and I will be having cheese and crackers for our next six meals.”
Slowly at first, people began to mill around again, talking, laughing softly. Some followed Sam to the table, both to find out more about Theodora and to nibble. Lacey concluded the sale she’d been processing and started that way when Price and Vicky Reed came in the door.
“Hi,” she called. “Come on in.”
“This is quite a shindig,” Price said, nodding at the standing room only.
“Yes, it’s been… interesting,” Lacey said. “We’ve got food and drinks over here, and let me introduce you to some people.”
Moving intermittently through the crowd, Lacey guided the Reeds to Sam, stopping frequently to make introductions. When they finally approached the table, Sam handed each a wine glass.
“Welcome,” he said. “Good to see you.”
“Thank you.” Vicky took the glass. “I want to see your pottery.”
“It’s over there, if you can make it through the crowd,” Sam said. He angled his head at them. “How are things at the house?”
Vicky shook her head. “No change. I still hear the crying in the room, and it still has that heavy feeling to it.”
“Really?” Sam didn’t hide his surprise. He frowned. “Well, that’s not good.”
Lacey stepped up. “We’ll work on it,” she said with quiet determination. “I was already thinking about getting in touch with some people from her church, see if I can learn anything new.”
“Good idea,” Sam said. He took in both Price and Vicky with a direct stare. “We’ll figure this out. And you won’t owe us a dime until we do.”
“Thank you,” Vicky said quietly. She forced a smile. “Now where’s this pottery?”
Sam took them personally to the display area. Lacey tapped her glass with one finger, frowning at the news. Yes, she had thought of going to Jean’s church; she hadn’t really thought she’d need to.
She’d thought wrong, obviously.
She set that problem aside and scanned the room. Marina stood in a corner quite a distance from where she’d tried to force the interview; she looked literally spooked. Lacey muffled a laugh. Perhaps she’d thought it a joke when Theodora tickled Herb’s ear, but it was a different story when the ghost came after her.
Herb, sans camera, was munching on crackers and chatting with Rod. They were an odd couple, for sure.
She glanced out the back door. Daniel and Tori were standing out by the fire pit, nuzzling gently in the dark. They were good kids; she wondered if her talk with Daniel had helped at all. She’d have to spend some time with him this weekend.
She checked her watch: after eight. People would start heading out the door soon. She breathed a sigh of relief that the evening had gone as well as it had.
Suddenly she noticed Sam pushing through the crowd, Tommy in tow. They made their way to her. Sam had a hard look on his face.
“Where’s Rod?” he asked in a low voice.
Lacey scanned the room. “He was talking to Herb… over there.” She pointed. The two men had taken seats and were examining Herb’s camera. Rod must be a photography buff, she thought. “Why?”
Sam brought his lips close to Lacey’s ear. “Theodora says the guy who trashed the studio last week is here. She recognizes him.”
“Macias?” Lacey gulped. Her eyes darted around the room. “Where
?”
“Outside,” Sam said. “You stay here and keep people inside. We’ll get Rod and go after him.”
~~~
SIXTEEN
Before Lacey could protest, Sam and Tommy were gone, muscling their way—politely—through the crowd to Rod. Tommy spoke softly in Rod’s ear, and the three of them headed for the front door.
Lacey watched them go in shock. She should be with them. She didn’t have her gun, though. It didn’t go with her flared black evening slacks and silk blouse. What had Sam said? Keep people safely inside. She glanced around, taking note. No one looked concerned. Good.
Then she remembered Daniel and Tori. She edged past a few guests, smiling, and made it to the back door.
“Daniel? Tori? Would you guys come in for a minute? I need to talk to you.”
She heard Daniel groan, then Tori’s tinkling laugh. The pair left the fire pit reluctantly, walking slowly toward the house.
“What?” Daniel asked when they’d come through the door.
“I need you guys to stay in here for a little while,” she said. She tried to make her voice sound as casual as possible.
But Daniel suddenly perked up. The affected teenage cynicism disappeared and he looked closely at Lacey. “What’s going on?” He stood up taller and scanned the room behind her. “Where’s Dad?”
“He’s outside,” she hissed, moving her hands down in a damping gesture. “Theodora told him there’s a guy out there looking to cause trouble. Just stay here until the cops nab the guy, okay?”
Daniel might not have heard. His eyes unfocused and he stared unseeing at nothing. Tori stood still at his side, watching him.
“She says he’s out in front, moving along that hedge on the side of the property. He’s got a gun!”
“Shhh!” Lacey tried to shush him quietly, but the adrenaline pumping through her system added strength to her voice. She checked behind her. Captain Shaw was looking her way.
So was Marina.
The captain saw her furtive look and came to join them. No one blocked the big man, preferring to step aside rather than get run over.
Revenge Walk Page 9
