“
Of course. How do you do, Ms. Perry? I trust your flight was comfortable?”
“
Yes, it went without a hitch.”
Miranda saw Jake give Rachel a slight shove towards Perrone. Before Miranda could ask why he’d done that, Jake had slipped a hand under her arm and was spiriting her away. He called out to Perrone.
“
She’s all yours!”
“
But Jake …” Miranda protested. Rachel may have been dressed inappropriately, but it didn’t mean she needed to be grilled because of a miscommunication – or worse – a murder she couldn’t have committed.
Jake ignored Miranda’s protests. He took the drink out of her hand and set it down. She felt his hand around her waist, and before she knew it, she was being led outside. It’s what she’d wanted and she did need the air. She surrendered to the music and his lead. Before she knew it, Miranda was being expertly led around the dance floor, enjoying herself as she hadn’t done since her father’s death.
“
Should we have thrown her to the wolves?” Miranda queried half-heartedly. Her head was filled with the sounds of the Danube, but she wasn’t entirely comfortable about leaving Rachel alone with an overzealous police detective.
“
Rachel can handle herself.”
Miranda considered the odd coupling of young vixen and older, seen-it-all cop. Rachel’s platform heels gave her a slight height advantage.
“
I still can’t believe that’s the same girl I met last summer. When you said she’d changed, I didn’t realize how much.”
Miranda spoke forcefully, trying hard to be heard above the crescendo of lush music. Jake craned his head in towards hers so he didn’t miss any of her words.
“
Yes, Rach has gone the Goth route. That white flour on the face is not flattering at all.”
“
You’re being awfully harsh. I mean, she didn’t ask you for your opinion, did she?”
“
No, but she should.”
Miranda considered asking Jake about possible theories as to how Perrone knew that the nails were copper, but the chance to waltz to a favorite selection of music put the tumultuous and unfortunate situation behind her. She erased any thoughts of copper nails, Rachel Abbott, and empty coffins completely out of her mind. She relaxed and surrendered to the dance.
Rachel saw Jake and Miranda through the window. They were dancing like there was no tomorrow. She realized that they might be right. She started to laugh. When she noticed it had gotten under the skin of Perrone, she did it all the more. She looked down into the eyes of the hard-headed, stubborn detective. It was so funny that he thought himself a worthy adversary. Rachel couldn’t help but let her feelings of superiority show. He was not to be feared any longer. He was another cog. He thought himself important, but not even the wheel was, so where did that leave him?
“
What brings you to our little hoedown? Nightstick break from shoving it up a suspect’s ass?”
Perrone hated a wise ass and that was what this Rachel Abbott was. A punk. He did his best not to look into Rachel’s cleavage. It was hard to miss since it was right in front of his face, but he wasn’t interested. She was nothing but a cheap slut. Her wearing an outfit showing way too much skin to an event like this was proof – at least to Perrone. He was from the old school. Men acted like gentlemen, and women were expected to be ladies – at least in public.
Rachel was showing her contempt for this institution and everyone here by dressing this way. In a very real way, it validated Perrone’s instincts that she was involved in Puhlman’s murder. She may not have committed it, but she was behind it … or aided it … maybe even planned it. He didn’t know how, but he’d find out … starting with the nail. He was already putting together a new theory based on what Miranda had to say. Ms. Abbott better not try to distract him by showing him her half-naked breasts. She’d be barking up the wrong tree. He only needed to go to the local strip joint and watch a pole dancer if he needed that kind of entertainment. For a stripper’s merchandise was all on display also, but it was merchandise that he could find appealing. Or would if he weren’t already married.
“
I would have thought you’d know, Ms. Abbott. I understand you were in charge of this little shindig … or has your story about that changed also?”
Rachel didn’t even bat an eye. She was a cool customer, but Perrone would get a response from the ice queen. He had all night. Perrone stared at Rachel’s garishly painted red mouth as she spoke.
“
Being in charge means you get to delegate. I’m sure you realize that, or does being on the bottom of that food chain mean you never found even that much out?”
Rachel waited a moment. Perrone’s jaw tightened. He’d tried to get to her, but she’d drawn the first blood. She was enjoying the game. She wondered if Perrone was. After all, he’d started it.
“
As for my story, I haven’t changed a single detail. Maybe it’s your memory that’s cloudy. I hear that sometimes happens with people of your advanced years.”
Perrone again flinched. He wasn’t old. He was goddamned proud of his age. He didn’t need a half-dressed freak to be commenting on the length of time he’d spent on earth. His instinct was to fire back with a personal attack, but his years on the police force taught him one thing – focus on what you’re doing and don’t let a suspect get your goat. He’d get this bitch. He was almost there. He wouldn’t let her get in his head.
“
Interesting perspective. What’s your theory on people your age forgetting things?”
“
I can’t imagine what you mean, Detective Perrone?” she said shifting her weight to one foot and crossing her arms. It gave her breasts a platform to fall on.
“
No? That’s not what I hear. I hear you went and forgot to tell me and your boss about an entire coffin.”
It was Perrone’s turn to watch reactions. Her pupils dilated and her body stiffened ever so slightly. He could tell he’d caught her by surprise. He was happy that what he’d said had removed that smarmy arrogance she wore like bad perfume. Rachel Abbott would be behind bars. One way of another he’d have this bitch in jail. He owed it to Sara Puhlman.
Rachel licked her lips before she answered. She fingered the neckline of her dress pulling the material over her smooth white flesh in an attempt to cover it. Perrone noticed that her eyes darted to the upper corner. He knew the signals and knew it meant she was attempting to cover things up with lies. He’d been right – she was hiding something.
“
I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re talking about. What coffin are you speaking of? Yours?”
Perrone knew she was going on the offensive. Trying to flip the script. It was an old hackneyed ploy and the way to handle it is to do the same. Go on the offensive and make her back down. He needed to switch roles.
“
Is that a threat, Ms. Abbott?”
“
Just an inevitability.”
“
You mean, like you going to jail for Sara Puhlman’s murder?”
“
Detective, if you have any evidence, I suggest you arrest me. Otherwise, back off!”
Rachel’s tone had increased in volume. She was becoming upset. Perrone was more than satisfied. He had turned the tables on her. He knew how to do his job. Just a little bit more and maybe he could get her to slip and tell him what he needed to put the noose around that white neck.
“
Evidence? Oh, I have the evidence or what’s left of it.” He slid his hand into his pant pocket and pulled out the nail. Rachel recognized it and drew back.
“
Remember this?”
Perrone moved it closer to her.
“
It was midnight. You were alone and there are no security cameras in your office. You had complete privacy. You opened the crate and found the coffin. What was it filled with? Drugs? Stolen artifacts? Or had someone just made a mistake and shipped a priceless treasure that wasn’t on the packing list? I don’t know what it was, but I’ll bet it’s worth a hell of a lot more than you make working here. You’re a smart girl and instantly knew what was going on. Someone had shipped something and maybe the middle man working at the docks called in sick that day. The shipment went through and landed in your lap. You knew the value of whatever it was and you did what you had to do to feather your nest. You hid whatever was in the coffin. Whatever it was is still here. Maybe even scattered around the museum. Lots of hiding places and I’ll bet you know them all, but that left the coffin. You needed to dispose of it. You had the hammer and you took that coffin apart. Put the pieces of wood in the shipping area. No one’s going to notice or question a few extra pieces of wood. You didn’t need to clean the floor because you had opened the outer casing, but you did need to dispose of those pesky copper nails. They didn’t match the nails in the casing. You tried, but you missed one. That’s all it takes – just one copper nail. It’s enough to shut your coffin nice and tight.”
Rachel stood listening to the story, knowing the reverse was true. She wasn’t going anywhere. It was time for Perrone to find out the truth instead digging around, espousing wild theories. Rachel would be happy for him to see exactly what she saw. She’d arrange for him to see what happened to the coffin and meet the contents of it – in person. It would be fun.
“
That’s an interesting fairy tale. Suppose you’ll be telling me about unicorns next.”
“
This isn’t a fairy tale, Ms. Abbott. I can prove this coffin was shipped to Fairfield Museum. The first way is by weight. An empty carton by definition has nothing inside. Its weight should be the same as what the carton weighs and not a pound more. Did you forget that cargo is weighed? That’s how it’s charged. You think it weighed the same as an empty carton? I don’t, and the weight is recorded – right on the packing slip. Then there are the eyewitness that swear the coffin was packed up nice and tight. You yourself agreed that it was sealed. Can’t change your story now, can you? I’m pretty sure you’d like to. It leaves only one conclusion. That you stole the contents and I’ll bet it’s still here. Not enough time for you to sneak it home. Just need a court order to search this place and you’ll be where you deserve – behind bars.”
“
First a murderer and now an art thief? You’re amazing, or should I say I am. All you’re doing is throwing spaghetti at a wall and hoping something will stick. I suggest you get another job because you’re lousy at doing this one.”
With that, Rachel turned her back on Perrone and walked away. Perrone wanted to pull her back and make her speak to him, but he couldn’t. He had thought he’d get a bigger reaction, but maybe it just needed time to sink in. She’d realize that he had her and that there was no way she’d get away with the theft and murder. He wondered how Sara Puhlman was involved. Could she have been the intended recipient of the stolen cargo? It would make sense. By getting rid of Sara, Rachel and her accomplice would get to keep the entire booty. He watched Rachel mingling and talking as if nothing was wrong. She should realize that everything was going awry. He couldn’t wait until the plan came crashing down all around her. He’d be with her every step of the way, ensuring it would.
He spotted a few people he knew and headed over to shoot the breeze. He wasn’t ready to leave the party. He wanted to keep an eye on Rachel. He was banking on pushing Rachel a little more. He needed for her to crack and tell him the truth.
The more pressure applied the better. It’s how you stopped the bleeding.
CHAPTER 21
The Strauss waltzes continued as did the dancing. The swirl of taffeta and chiffon juxtapositioned against the stylish black tuxedos was the elegant spark needed to ignite the party’s festive atmosphere. Instead of firecrackers, the display was landbound, but just as engaging. The melding of fabrics and textures twirling about did more for Miranda’s mood than any number of glasses of champagne. Miranda was positively giddy in the delightfully mad peloton
of impromptu ballroom dancers. The rush of the alcohol, combined with the beauty of the music put all the dark thoughts out of her head. She only saw Jake’s face against the blurred background as he spun her around the floor. She had no idea he was such a wonderful dance partner. The night lent a perfect backdrop to the brightness of the spectacle. Even the moon looked like a prop on a stage, adding a luminous incandescent limelight of mystery to the festivities.
Miranda leaned her head back and laughed heartily. She was having so much fun – she never wanted this moment to end. The firm grip Jake had on her waist told her that he would do everything in his power to grant her desire. In spite of the shallowness of their relationship, he understood that the past few months had been hell for her – dealing with the death of a parent usually is. Like Galahad, he rose to the occasion, not only giving her what she needed, but what it would take to make her whole. He was putting her damaged soul on the road to the recovery, advancing her past the heartache. She was now on the path to being happy again – happier than she had ever allowed herself to be. Like a baby chick, she’d needed to break through the fragile shell imprisoning her. With his help, she’d been set free from the past. Finally, she could allow herself time to actually stop and enjoy the scenery before hurrying on to her next battle.