Ripped From the Pages (24 page)

“Were they all the same times in the morning?”

“Different times,” Gabriel said.

“I tried to meet Garrity in the mornings,” Derek said, “Usually around ten. But there
were a few afternoons, as well.”

“I think I’ve noted them all.” Gabriel double-checked his log-in list. “So we’ve got
four entries unaccounted for.”

“That’s disturbing,” Derek said.

Gabriel shrugged. “It could be completely innocent. Maybe Robson stopped by to check
on something.”

“Or an employee had a valid excuse to go in there.” Derek’s eyes narrowed in concern.
“Brooklyn and I were discussing the possibility that the appraiser or one of the reporters
was able to cajole someone into letting them inside the cave. Even Trudy might’ve
asked Robson if she could take a look. After she opened the door, someone could’ve
snuck inside. This is all conjecture, but it’s worth considering.”

I had stopped listening and simply stared at my calendar page until my eyes went blurry.
“Oh no. Oh my God. This time it really is all my fault.”

“What is it, love?” Derek said, taking hold of my arm. “What’s wrong?”

I jabbed my finger on the calendar note. “My chat room! I sent them all the first
paragraph of the letter that Guru Bob’s grandmother sent to her sister. It was in
some medieval language, remember? And I described the watermark on the paper. I told
them the letter came from a storage box in a friend’s house. It wouldn’t be hard to
track it down. It must be connected.”

“Not necessarily, darling,” Derek said in his most soothing tone. Usually it worked
to calm me down, but not this time.

“Something else is going on here,” I said, growing more agitated. “Look at the timeline,
Derek. My online communication
about that letter might’ve set everything in motion. What if something in that ancient
language triggered some kind of reaction in cyberspace? What if someone connected
to my chat room killed Amelia?”

*   *   *

A
n hour later, after an extended rant on my part combined with Derek’s lightning-fast
skill at pointing out the obvious flaws in my hypothesis, I managed to compose myself.
But though I’d stopped sharing my ideas on this, my brain kept racing. Had I brought
all of this trouble to Dharma? Was it my fault Amelia was dead?

Gabriel sat back and enjoyed the show until Derek and I were finished with our little
discussion. Then he poured himself another cup of coffee and said, “Let’s go back
to some more realistic possibilities. Like, Elizabeth.”

I sighed and let go of my careening thoughts. After all, I had to admit it would be
better if Elizabeth was at the bottom of all this, rather than my longtime chat group
filled with book geeks like me. They’d been my virtual friends for years.

“Fine,” I said.

Gabriel pointed to my calendar. “So she first called Trudy on Wednesday, ten days
after the artwork and furnishings in the caves were discovered. She said she’d read
about the treasures in her local paper and that reminded her that Trudy lived in the
area. So now she wants to come visit. Out of the blue. That right there raises a red
flag, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Absolutely,” Derek said.

Gabriel nodded. “Seven days later, she arrives in Dharma. And five days after that,
Trudy is in a coma and her companion is dead.”

“That’s fairly compelling,” Derek said.

It was. I glanced from one man to the other. “So you don’t believe I could’ve sent
a paragraph written in some obscure, ancient French-Coptic-Aramaic language out to
the inter-webs, and set in motion a hundred-year curse on the Benoit family?”

Gabriel grinned. “It’s a cool theory, babe, but it’s straight out of science fiction.”

“Damn,” I grumbled. “It was a very cool theory.” But if Gabriel and Derek were right,
then I wasn’t to blame for Amelia’s death, and that was even cooler.

Of course, I wasn’t ready to let go of my little notion quite yet. But I let the conversation
return to the suspects who were actually in town and involved in some way or another
with the cave discoveries. I had zoned out for a few minutes, but I tuned back in
just as Gabriel began to talk about his drones.

“We’ve already programmed one of them to activate whenever there’s any kind of motion
near the cave doors. It’ll record everything it sees and hears. If you’d like something
more invasive, we can add more motion-detection lights and cameras.”

“That’s an excellent idea,” Derek said. “Because you know they’ll be back. If they’ve
gotten away with stealing one painting, they’ll want to return for more. And if they’ve
gotten away with it once, they’re familiar with the positions of the cameras. They
won’t be expecting any additional ones. We could also beef up the locks.”

Gabriel stared at his notes and shook his head. “I’m just afraid it might be an inside
job.”

“I refuse to believe that,” I said, not caring if I sounded like a Pollyanna. “If
someone from Dharma is allowing the thief access, it’s got to be inadvertent. Nobody
who knows Robson would do it deliberately. This means too much to him.”

“I’d like to think you’re right,” Derek said.

“But here’s the big question,” I said, gnawing at my lip as I
tried to figure it all out. “How is the theft of the painting connected to the murder
at Trudy’s house?”

“Maybe there’s no connection,” Gabriel said offhandedly. “Maybe it’s all just a weird
coincidence.”

“You don’t honestly believe that,” Derek said.

“No,” Gabriel said with a crooked grin. “Just throwing it out there for us to munch
on.”

As much as I hated being a magnet for dead bodies, experience had taught me that there
was always a
reason
.

“Anything’s possible,” I said, “but it’s crazy to think it’s not all connected, don’t
you think?”

“Sure,” Gabriel said lightly. “But if you seriously believe the theft and the murder
are connected, then you have to ask yourself what the connection is.”

“Something tells me you’ve already done that,” I said. “So what do you think the connection
is?”

His smile was resolute. “It’s Robson Benedict.”

*   *   *

A
fter the intense morning at Gabriel’s, my head was pounding, so I spent the afternoon
resting on the couch. Derek had gone back to the caves to do a little investigating
because we theorized that whoever stole the Renoir—
alleged
Renoir—might’ve left a clue somewhere. Chances were slim, but we both thought it
was worth following up.

I had finally found a comfortable sleeping niche and was dozing off when someone knocked
on the front door. I groaned out loud and waited a few seconds, thinking they might
go away. But then I realized it was probably my mom, and she wasn’t going to go anywhere.

I shuffled across the room and swung the door open without
first peeking to see who it was. That was something I had to stop doing, given that
someone had tried to kill me in the last forty-eight hours. Luckily, I saw that gorgeous
head full of dark curly hair and knew it was a friendly visitor.

“Hey, you,” I said, grabbing Annie in a hug. “Come in. I’m so glad you came by.”

“Since you’ve refused to visit me, I thought I’d better.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, leading the way into the living room and returning to my comfy
corner of the couch. “I’ve been meaning to get into the store to see you. It’s been
a little crazy lately.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.”

Annie’s real name was Anandalla, and she was the daughter that my mentor Abraham Karastovsky
never knew. Her mother never told him she was pregnant after she moved back to her
hometown of Seattle, where Annie was raised. It wasn’t until her mother was dying
that Annie had learned the truth. Her father was alive and well and living in Dharma.
She and Abraham met for the first time only days before he was murdered.

Annie was petite, adorable, and in her midtwenties, all qualities I’d held against
her when we first met. She’d been a goth princess back then, all kohl-rimmed eyes,
skull earrings, and black leather vests. These days, however, she was clean-scrubbed
and tie-dyed, pure Dharma right down to her Birkenstocks.

Several months after she’d moved to town, she’d opened her kitchenware store and named
the shop
Anandalla!
The exclamation point fitted Annie’s personality and the Hindu-inspired name suited
Dharma perfectly. The store was very popular with locals and visitors alike.

She sat down in the chair opposite me and took her time looking me over. Taking in
my disheveled appearance, she said, “You know, you didn’t have to go to all this trouble
just to avoid me.”

I chuckled. “Very funny.”

“Seriously, though, I’m sorry. I heard about Amelia and
Trudy.” She shook her head in sadness and disbelief. “Amelia was in the shop just
three days ago. She used to come in at least once a week, and she could easily spend
an entire afternoon in one aisle. I can’t believe she’s gone.”

“It’s sad, isn’t it?” I was surprised to hear that Amelia had taken such an interest
in kitchenware, but it made sense since the kitchen seemed to be her realm at Trudy’s.

“She was a sweet lady,” Annie said.

“Was she? I’m glad to hear it, because she didn’t seem to like me at all.”

Annie grinned. “Did I mention she had good taste?”

“Ha ha.” I bit back a smile. “I forget how funny you are when I don’t see you for
a while.”

“It’s a gift.” But then she frowned. “I know Amelia was an oddball, but she loved
to cook and bake, so we got along well.”

“I think you and Trudy might’ve been the closest thing she had to friends.”

“That’s entirely possible. She wasn’t exactly the most outgoing woman in the world.”
Annie stood and asked for some water. I told her to help herself, pointing the way
to the kitchen. She walked out of the living room and was back in her chair a minute
later, gulping down a glass of water. “Ah, much better, thanks. So how are you feeling,
really?”

I sighed. “The pain comes and goes, but mainly I’m going crazy here. I need to be
doing something.”

She got up, came over to the couch, and peered more closely at my head where the wound
was still healing. “It doesn’t look too bad, but I guess they nailed you good.”

“Yeah. I’m lucky to be alive.”

“I’d say so.” She sat down, and I scooted back so I could sit up straighter.

“So, what’s new with you, Annie?” I asked, anxious to change the subject away from
head wound. “I haven’t seen you in at least
two months. How’s business? Do you still love it here? Do you have a boyfriend?”

She thought for a moment. “Um, nothing much. Great. Yes. And none of your business.”

I laughed. “None of my business? You know this is a small town, right? All I have
to do is ask my mother. She’ll tell me everything about your love life.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately, that’s not a joke. That woman knows everything
about everyone in town.”

“Yeah, we’ve all given up trying to keep secrets from her.”

She smiled fondly. “Your mom is the best.”

“She loves you, too.”

She stared out the window at the beautiful blue sky and the line of pine and oak trees
that covered the ridge. “I was so lucky to find this place.”

“Lucky?” I said. “If memory serves, I was the one who introduced you to Dharma.”

It was her turn to laugh. “You just keep believing that.”

I gave her a smile. “It’s really good to see you.”

“You, too.” She glanced at her watch. “But I’d better leave you to rest. I’ve got
to go meet someone in a little while.”

“Hot date?”

She shot me a suspicious glare. “Since you’ll find out anyway, I might as well tell
you that I’m meeting that reporter for coffee. Your sister set me up.”

“Reporter?” I frowned before remembering my conversation with China. “You mean Josh
Atherton?”

“Yeah. Oh, I guess you must’ve met him since he’s here to research the caves. China
wouldn’t tell me anything about him. Well, only that he’s nice and cute.”

“He’s perfectly pleasant and very cute,” I agreed with a nod. I hesitated, then added,
“Just please don’t forget that he’s a, you know, a reporter. Watch what you tell him.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “He won’t get anything out of me.”

“Good.” I grinned. “Have fun.”

“Always.” She gave me a quick hug and took off, leaving me to contemplate Josh Atherton.
Annie was a lot more confident in her ability to resist his interrogation techniques
than I was. I could only wonder what sort of information he would try to wangle out
of Annie.

*   *   *

F
riday morning, I washed dishes while Derek finished up a phone call with our contractor,
who assured him that the work was moving along and everything was on schedule. Our
home would be ready and looking beautiful within a month. Derek let him know that
he planned to be in the city next week and would stop by to inspect everything done
so far.

After the phone call, we drove to the supermarket to stock up on groceries and incidentals
for the week.

On the drive home, we got more news, this time from Gabriel, who announced that Trudy
had come home. As Gabriel had predicted, Trudy had refused to leave her home for the
sake of her own safety, so he was in the process of moving into her spare bedroom.
Trudy had only weakly protested his presence, and now it was clear that she was happy
to have him there, especially since Elizabeth would be visiting for only a few more
days.

If she wasn’t arrested for murder first.

We drove by the house to welcome Trudy home but stayed just a short while. I had to
endure Elizabeth’s hugs while she expressed the hope that she and I could get together
for lunch soon. But how could she possibly think I would want to get together with
her when I didn’t even know if she was guilty of killing Amelia or not? She carried
on as if nothing had happened, and I made some lame excuse about being too busy this
week to go to lunch.