The Deeds of the Deceitful

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The Deeds of the Deceitful Page 18

by Ellery Adams


  “Why would he show you that video?” Bryant asked. “Isn’t it counterintuitive to reveal aspects of the case that only the guilty party should know?”

  “No doubt trying to gauge her reaction,” Jake said. “Or let her know that he’s on to her.”

  “I agree with Jake,” Mindy said. “Olson really has nothing to go on, and I sensed his frustration. I think he hoped I’d make his life easier and simply confess.” She gave a weak laugh.

  Jon reached out and took her hand. “Don’t be disheartened, Mindy. You’ve got lots of friends rooting for you. Before you know it, this will all be behind us. Soon we’ll be moaning about cranky guests who want the kitchen opened in the middle of the night.”

  Cooper smiled. Jon had such a good heart.

  “What did you mean when you said the dealer was shady?” Bryant asked. “What kind of shop was this? Why did he report this to the police?”

  “Mindy told me what happened today, and I looked into those questions,” Jon said. “The store is tagged as an import and export shop. I spoke with my brother, who’s a deputy city attorney, and he checked into the business for me. The manager is apparently in a ‘three strikes you’re out’ situation for dealing in stolen goods, and he’s trying to avoid jail time.”

  “Where does that leave us?” Cooper said.

  The room was silent except for the constant drumming of rain on the roof and an occasional wind gust that rattled the windows.

  “There is a way to flush out your thief,” Mona said quietly. All heads turned to her.

  “Now you have our attention,” Bryant said.

  “Greed is the common denominator in most painting heists,” she said. “Occasionally, it’s about the theft. The trophy hunter who steals for the excitement of the hunt. Less common is the true art collector.”

  “I vote for greed,” Bryant said. “That’s been my song since day one.”

  “I agree with you,” Mona said. “Since the pool of suspects is small, I’m going to wager the thief or thieves are not selling to a buyer in a foreign market, nor will they hide it away for a future opportunity. I’d say this thief’s knowledge base is limited to Google.”

  “What does that mean?” Cooper asked.

  “It means that he’s checking eBay and the like, to see how much he can get for the painting, without much success. That’s why he or she has resorted to one-on-one meetings with shady dealers. A very risky endeavor. That would indicate they’re desperate to get rid of the painting and pocket some cash.”

  “How can we capitalize on that greed?” Bryant asked.

  “We call the dealer to work with us. He may need to be incentivized. The dealer reaches out to our thieves and tells them he has a connection, but his buyer wants both paintings.”

  “Isn’t that entrapment?” Savannah asked.

  “Naw,” Jake said. “Entrapment is when you’re coerced to commit a crime that you normally wouldn’t have committed. We’d be baiting a thief. Going fishing is all.”

  “How would that play out?” Cooper asked. As she spoke, a yellow streak of lightning flashed across the sky, visible through the tall library windows. A moment later, thunder once again rolled over the inn, this time plunging the room into darkness.

  Gasps echoed in the room.

  “Looks like this party is over,” Jake said. He stood at the window and looked out. “The entire area is dark.”

  The group carefully headed down the stairs, guided by cell phone flashlights.

  “What about Mona’s idea?” Cooper asked.

  “I think it has merit. We should discuss this further when we’re in a well-lit room,” Bryant said with a laugh. “Not that I’m superstitious or anything, but this storm has got me on edge. I suggest we go two by two to our vehicles. The buddy system.”

  “Wait for me.” Trish put her purse on the front desk and searched inside for her car keys. She pushed her hair back from her face with a hand and tangled her hair in her earring. “Oh, goodness.” The heavy gold earring fell to the ground with an audible ping.

  “I’ll get it,” Jake said. He searched the floor with a flashlight, moving the beam to the space between the reception desk and the wall. “Whoa. What do we have here?”

  “What is it, Jake?” Savannah asked.

  “Your earring and one of those fancy lipstick containers like Loretta Atwood had.”

  Cooper dropped to the floor to see what he was talking about. The flashlight beam bounced off a black cylinder with a familiar gold logo. Jake grabbed the earring and then reached for the container. Cooper stopped him.

  “No. Don’t touch it. This is evidence. Call Detective Olson, Mindy.”

  “Okay, but why?”

  “Because this may be Loretta’s missing tube of lipstick.”

  “Could you see the printing on the bottom?” Mindy asked.

  “No, it’s turned the other way.”

  “I don’t get it,” Jake asked. “Do you mind reading me in?” He stood and helped Cooper from the ground.

  “Someone replaced Loretta’s lipstick with one with finely ground nuts,” Cooper said. “Maybe they dropped Loretta’s lipstick on the floor when they made the switch. It’s nearly impossible to see anything in that tiny space. Whoever it was didn’t realize it had rolled back there.”

  “So you think this may have the murderer’s fingerprints on it?” Jake asked.

  “I’m counting on it,” Cooper said.

  Forty-five minutes later, the ginger detective arrived. Jon checked the front door and let him in.

  “Electricity is out?” Detective Olson glanced around at the room, lit only by cell phone screens. “How may I be of assistance to the Sunshine Bible Study?”

  “Thank you for coming, Detective Olson,” Cooper said. “Trish lost her earring, so Jake searched under the reception desk. He spotted a lipstick canister, like the one Loretta Atwood used, wedged between the baseboard and the reception desk.”

  “Has anyone touched it?”

  Cooper shook her head. “No, sir. We followed proper protocol.”

  “I see those detective shows are paying off.” Olson looked at her. “Thank you for preserving the chain of custody.” He knelt down and removed an evidence bag from his pocket. Then he pulled out a pocket knife and carefully freed the canister and slid it into the bag. When he stood, his gaze scanned the group, stopping at Mona. “Detective Olson, RPD. Have we met?”

  “No, sir, Mona Lister. I’m visiting for a wedding.”

  “Are you with law enforcement?”

  “Art. I’m an assistant art curator at the Charlotte Museum of Fine Art.”

  “Ah, the expert in the group.” He nodded. “Well done, ladies and gentlemen. I’ll get this to the lab.”

  “Will it break the case?” Trish asked.

  “Not likely, but it may provide some clues.” Without another word, Detective Olson turned and left.

  “That was a bit surreal,” Trish said as the front door closed.

  Overhead the lights blinked once and then came on.

  “Perfect timing,” Jon said to Mindy. “I didn’t want to leave you in a dark house.”

  “Thank you all for coming,” Mindy said.

  “We’ll be in touch,” Bryant said. “We need to have some serious discussion about our next steps.”

  “I’m available until after the wedding. I’d like to help too,” Mona said.

  “Mona, I appreciate your coming out tonight,” Mindy said.

  Cooper took a deep breath and glanced at her friends. “I’d hoped that we’d be done with this case much sooner, but it seems we’re going farther and farther down the rabbit hole, with no end in sight.”

  “That sums things up very nicely,” Bryant said. He reached for his umbrella. “Let’s hope that good-looking meteorologist predicts sunshine tomorrow.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Where are we on that wedding present for Mr. Farmer, Ashley?” Cooper asked. She held her cell phone under her chin as s
he gathered files on her desk.

  “I emailed that to you this morning.”

  “Thank you! I’ll send it on to Mr. Farmer.” She downed the cold remains of her coffee cup. “Anything you need me to do?”

  “Actually, there is. The weather says chance of rain on Angela’s wedding day. Can you get your friend Bryant to fix that?”

  “You’re kidding, right? He said sunshine today and was wrong. I don’t want to quote him for a week from Saturday.”

  “Relax. That was a joke. You seem a little on edge. Everything okay?” Ashley asked.

  “I haven’t been okay in weeks, and I’m pretty sure we studied a Proverbs verse that covers this situation.”

  “Proverbs 12:25: Anxiety in a man’s heart weighs him down, but a good word makes him glad.”

  “Very good,” Cooper said.

  Ashley chuckled. “Here’s your good word. Tomorrow is spa day.” She paused. “Did you pick up your dress?”

  Cooper gasped. “I knew there was something I forgot.” This was a huge Freudian slip, and she only hoped her sister didn’t point that out.

  “Coop! The wedding is a week from Saturday. What if there’s something wrong? The shoes are the wrong hue or the wrong size, or they didn’t hem the dress short enough?”

  “Sorry, Ashley. I’ll head over there right now.”

  Cooper snuck past the reception desk, where Angela was training her new assistant. Aston or Mercedes. Something to do with expensive automobiles.

  “Cooper, do you have a minute?” Angela called.

  “Could I check in with you later? I have an appointment. I’ll be back soon.” There was no point upsetting Angela. Forgetting to pick up a dress for a wedding wasn’t a big deal. She’d go to the shop, in and out, and no one would ever know.

  “Sure thing. Let Bentley know when you have time.”

  Bentley. That was it. Cooper waved as she pushed open the office door and headed into the damp afternoon. The air was thick with humidity and gray clouds hovered overhead, reflecting her current mood. The roads remained slick from last night’s storm and a drizzle that seemed to come in spurts all day. She drove with care to downtown Richmond, finally pulling into the parking lot of Monique’s Bridal.

  Just as she was about to climb out of her Jeep her phone lit up. Cooper recognized the number as Jon’s. If she didn’t answer, he’d think she was avoiding him. And she sort of was. She hit Accept.

  “Hi, Jon.”

  “Hi, Cooper. I hoped we could schedule a time to visit the gift shop. The owner is really anxious to chat with you.”

  “As a matter of fact, I’m downtown right now. I forgot to pick up my bridesmaid dress for Angela’s wedding.”

  “What’s the address?”

  Cooper rattled off the Main Street address.

  “You’re right around the corner from that gift shop. Can you meet me there in about thirty minutes?”

  “Okay, sure.” Cooper climbed out of the Jeep with her phone in one hand and a tote bag in the other. She did a quick surveillance of the area, part of her new routine since the ice pick incident. With nothing amiss, she strode to the corner and turned onto Main Street. When the bridal shop sign came into view, she stopped in her tracks.

  “I forgot to send the list to Mr. Farmer.”

  She quickly scrolled through her phone to find the email from Ashley with the gift ideas for Mr. Farmer and blinked. Was Ashley serious? A 1956 Ford T-Bird convertible topped the list. In quotes it said The same model Marilyn Monroe drove. Ashley had provided links to the used cars that fit the bill. After the car, she’d listed other gift options. Diamond tennis bracelet, pearl necklace, diamond earrings, and a red Louis Vuitton handbag. All overpriced, but well within Mr. Farmer’s budget. No doubt, Mr. F. would go for the diamond earrings.

  Cooper did a copy and paste and hit Send, delighted to be able to scratch that off her to-do list. With her thoughts still on last night’s meeting at Atwood Inn, she took a deep breath and said a small prayer before she opened the door to the boutique. “Lord, help us to figure out what’s going on with this case, and keep Mindy and Jon, and the Sunrise Bible Study, safe. Amen.”

  Inside, Monique Bridal was a flurry of activity, with consultants racing back and forth across the showroom floor with white dresses draped over their arms. “We’ll be right with you,” the receptionist said. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No, I’m picking up a dress.”

  “Could you come back in an hour?” She leaned closer to Cooper. “A VIP stopped by to look at dresses, and everyone is running right now. Things should slow down shortly.”

  “Sure. Of course.”

  Cooper strolled down the street peeking in store windows until she turned the corner and reached the shop Jon had told her about. Bells chimed as she pushed open the door and stood on the threshold. Cooper smiled and instantly relaxed as she inhaled the scent of vanilla and lavender. She would never have guessed from the outside that this was inside the space. Large oak and cherry armoires were tucked against the walls and displayed unique pieces such as tea sets, vintage typewriters, milk glass, jadeite, and Mason jars filled with old silverware. It was sort of an antique store, but also held quirky modern stationery, and amusing quotes in distressed wood frames. Maggie and Grammy would love this shop.

  A tall woman who seemed familiar approached her with an open smile. “Hello. You must be Cooper. Jon’s told me so much about you.”

  Cooper cocked her head. “How did you know who I am?”

  “He described you perfectly.” She offered a hand. “I’m Sara Eason.”

  “You’re related to Jon?”

  Behind her, the door opened, sending the chimes in motion again. “Aunt Sara, I hope you aren’t giving away any of my secrets,” Jon called out.

  “Go walk around the block. You didn’t give me enough time.” When Jon reached them, Sara Eason gave him a loving hug. “Let me get us some sweet tea,” she said. “I’ll be right back. I have a little table in the corner where you may sit, or feel free to look around.”

  “That was fast,” Cooper said. “You said thirty minutes.” She looked away, not willing to admit that it was good to see him again.

  “The thought of meeting you must have bent the time continuum.”

  “Very funny. You didn’t tell me that it was your aunt who wants to consign my birdhouses.”

  “I know you, Cooper. You would have thought this was charity or that I twisted her arm to feign interest in your birdhouses. Not true. I took a few pictures of them on the Fourth of July and showed them to her. She asked me if I’d talk to you about working with her.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” He chuckled. “You’re so self-effacing that sometimes it takes me off guard. I’m used to women whose vanity is as large as their designer handbags.”

  “That’s the thing, Jon. We’re from different worlds.” She gestured with a hand.

  “What are you two talking about?” Sara asked as she returned with a tray of tall iced tea glasses dripping with chilled condensation.

  “Birdhouses,” Jon said.

  “Oh, yes. I have a cabinet where I’d like to display yours. Maybe hang a few from the ceiling.”

  Cooper perked at the idea of her birdhouses hanging in this delightful space. They chatted for a long time, and Sara showed Cooper around the shop. When a cuckoo clock began to chime, Cooper jumped. “Oh, no. I have to get back to the bridal shop.” She turned to Sara. “I’ll get those birdhouses to you as soon as possible. Thank you so much.”

  “My pleasure, dear. You’re doing me a favor.”

  “Hang on, Cinderella,” Jon called. He followed her out of the shop. “You forgot your tote bag.

  “Thanks.” Cooper kept moving down the sidewalk and stopped in front of the dark window filled with mannequins in white dresses. “They close early on Tuesday. I am in so much trouble.”

  “You can come back. If not, I’ll do it for you.” He paused. “I stop by to se
e Aunt Sara a few times a week.”

  “That’s very generous of you, but the idea is to be sure the dress fits and the shoes are correct.”

  “It’s a wedding. Everyone has eyes on the bride.”

  Cooper looked at him. “You’re right. I’m getting all worked up over nothing.”

  “Finally, someone who takes my advice.” He smiled. “Have time for a bite to eat?”

  “I’ll have to take a raincheck.” As she said the words, dime-sized drops began to fall around them. “I’ve got to get back to the office. I have a late meeting.”

  “Then I’ll see you later.”

  “Thanks for introducing me to your aunt.”

  He nodded and pulled up the collar of his jacket. “My pleasure, Cooper.”

  Cooper got back to the office just in time for her meeting. When she got out, Bentley was waiting for her. The woman couldn’t be more than eighteen. Or maybe it was that Cooper was getting older by the day and everyone seemed much younger.

  “Ms. Lee, Angela is waiting for you in her office.”

  “Thanks.”

  Cooper peeked into Angela’s office. She had a new nameplate on her desk. “Mrs. Farmer. Office Manager. I like that.”

  “Thank you. Mona bought it for me. She’s such a sweet friend. Having her here has been a kick. I’m going to miss her when she’s gone.”

  “How can I help you, Angela?”

  “Sit down, Cooper. I have a question for you.”

  “Okay, but I really have to leave work on time. Mama asked me to stop and pick up a few things on the way home.” If she didn’t provide that disclosure, Angela would lose track of time.

  “Mr. Farmer hasn’t said a word about my wedding present.”

  Cooper relaxed, relieved that was all she wanted to talk about.

  “Isn’t it supposed to be a surprise?”

  “Yes.” Angela giggled. “But you’d have thought he’d drop a hint or two. Usually, he accidentally gives it away by now. I knew he was getting me a new bowling ball weeks before he surprised me. He left the receipt in his pants pocket, and I found it.”

  “Sounds like Mr. Farmer is getting better at keeping secrets.”

  Angela smiled. “If you hear anything, you’ll let me know, right?”

 

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