Chapter Eleven
May 8th. 2009© 2009 Kimberly J. Fish
Chapter Eleven
Lacy stood behind the 19th century French buffet she used as a check out counter at Comfortable Treasures. She’d made so many phone calls these last fifty minutes, her fingers were numb from dialing and sending texts. Her posse should be here soon.
The most difficult call was still to come. Before Henry had been incarcerated he’d asked her to call his sister, to let her know he was safe and a victim of a misunderstanding. As his sister was his only relative, the importance of phrasing this situation just right was a huge responsibility. Lacy tried to imagine if the situation was reversed and Henry had to call Kali.
Like a light bulb clicking on, Lacy saw that she and Henry were more alike than she’d ever realized. They’d both lost their parents, they both were close to their sisters and they both loved antiques and art. Except for the part where he was successful and she wasn’t, they were a matched set.
Kali stepped in to the showroom from the small office area tucked behind a screen made from lace tablecloths. Her cell phone clutched in one hand, a clipboard in the other, she stopped at the buffet. “Okay, we’re set. I called my friends and everyone’s coming just like you asked, but we have a problem. Inga Steinmeyer has heard about the situation and she beeped in on the store line. She said she wants to help too. She’s a little ticked you didn’t call her first.”
“We can’t have Inga at the meeting. She’d compromise the investigation because she’s the purported victim.”
Kali’s brow twitched over her eye. “Purported? You don’t think Inga’s involved in this, do you?”
Lacy fiddled with the silk ends of the scarf draping over her shoulder. Ever since the sheriff had dismissed Inga’s nephew as a possible suspect, Lacy had been gnawing one very strange fact related to the series of events. “Okay, just tell me I’m nuts and I’ll let this go, but how weird is it that Inga gives Henry, an almost complete stranger to her, the key to her storage unit, filled with valuable antiques, and then doesn’t accompany him-us-to go look at the pieces.”
Kali stared at Lacy, her eyes narrowing to slits.
Lacy almost clapped. Whenever her sister, the former Washington DC attorney, got that snaky-eyed look on her face that meant she was seriously thinking something through. Lacy, not nearly as gifted with deductive skills, was operating on gut instinct. But if Kali questioned Inga’s behavior, maybe there was substance to the instinct.
Kali set the clipboard on the buffet and grabbed a pen. She started drawing out a time line of events.
Lacy knew that though Kali was thorough, she wasn’t the fastest gun in the West. It would take her ten minutes to see what Lacy saw the minute Michael had pulled out of the Sheriff’s lot to return her to the store. Inga had set this up.
For some reason, that Lacy didn’t understand yet, Inga had masterminded this robbery. Maybe she needed the insurance money since Mr. Steinmeyer’s death and subsequent revelations had strained her finances. And these were the Steinmeyer’s heirlooms, hardly anything Inga would protect after his defection.
Lacy fluffled Inca pillows on the Louis XIIII gilded sofa. She then walked over to the wall of abstract art, provided by an emerging Comfort artist, and leveled the frames that had shifted when she walked in an hour ago and started slamming doors. Her nerves were still taut, but she didn’t feel as desperate as she did when Michael tried to suggest that even smart women get duped by con artists.
“Oh, my word!” Kali spun around to face Lacy. “From the moment she invited you out to sell the dining room pieces, till the day she told Henry there were more things in the storage shed she’s been systematically getting rid of her husband’s belongings.”
“And wanting to ditch them somewhere other than Comfort. If the word got out that the former city councilman’s belongings were tossed out on the street Inga would get the conciliation, but little proceeds. Mr. Steinmeyer wasn’t that beloved. She needed them to disappear under cover of darkness.”
“Had they ever moved their heirlooms into the new house?”
“Not much. Most of it was still in the storage unit. She said they’d had it valued for insurance purposes, but that once they moved in to the new house they didn’t want to clutter up the new rooms with the old stuff.”
“That’s convenient.”
Lacy stared at the red, yellow and blue blobs circled by black on the abstract canvas. She really didn’t know why she’d accepted this piece. It looked like rabid raccoon eyes to her. “To Inga’s credit, they didn’t know Mr. Steinmeyer would die suddenly after moving in to the house and, I doubt, anyone knew at that point that their nephew was involved with the school teacher’s disappearance.”
Kali rubbed her hands together. “So, if we can show probable cause to the sheriff he can release Henry.”
“And arrest Inga? Doubt that’s going to happen. The sheriff may be the one person in the county who respected Mr. Steinmeyer’s position in city government. What we have to do is play one group off another to get someone to confess. Then Henry’s name will be cleared.”
Kali chuckled. “I guess you won’t need that bulldozer after all.”
Lacy nibbled her bottom lip. She wasn’t going to say she’d figured this out. But she knew she wouldn’t be going to sleep tonight without figuring out a way to justify her faith in Henry’s character. Her gaze settled on the 18th Century Hepplewhite sideboard. It was listed for $3000. If Henry were a thief, he’d have started here. With only a few pieces of truly expensive furniture, she hadn’t yet invested in a high-tech security system. Lacy collapsed in one of a pair of painted Bergere empire chairs. “Wouldn’t there be camera tape from the storage unit? Couldn’t the sheriff’s office replay footage from the last few weeks and figure this out?”
“Unless,” Kali said as she sat in the matching chair. “The storage unit doesn’t keep their tapes up-to-date, or worse yet, uses a fake camera system.”
Liberty crossed and uncrossed her legs. “Someone’s bound to have seen something out there. The storage company won’t stay in business if they can’t protect the assets.”
“The sheriff will investigate that.”
“I don’t think he will.” Lacy legs felt pumped to run a marathon. She stood and paced, almost elbowing a Chinese urn. “You should have seen that man’s expression. He’d caught Henry and as far as he was concerned he wasn’t looking anywhere else.”
“He has to investigate. Henry’s attorney will see to that.”
“Not if the sheriff is on this with Inga.”
Kali’s smile faded. “Okay, now you’re going off the deep end imagining a conspiracy. Let’s focus and see what our group discussion turns up. Between ten friends, and some of your dark Lady Grey tea, our brain cells will zero in on an important clue.”
Lacy glanced toward the store front. With the November on the calendar now, the afternoon lights had faded to black. It was almost five-thirty. She’d hoped to catch her friends before they settled in with their families for dinner, but as the meeting time approached she was doubtful many would show up. Would she have come if AJ or Anna had called frantically about rescuing some man they’d never met from jail?
Yes, but that’s because she didn’t have anyone waiting at home. She didn’t even have a cat, save the stray tabby that wandered in and out of the store. “I’d better go start the tea. And set out some biscotti.”
Kali reached out to stop Lacy’s escape. “I’ve already filled the kettle. And I set out that Ukrainian pottery set for tea cups. AJ is bringing sandwiches to share too. She said she was starved.”
What would she do without her circle of friends? Whatever happened with Henry, she’d thank God for this lesson on learning she could depend on her circle of friends.
The brass bell hanging behind the front door jangled.
Lacy turned to see who was first to the meeting.
Hadn’t she just been thanking God for her friends? So why in the world was the first woman at the meeting, the last possible woman she really wanted to spend time with?
“Hello, ladies,” Theresa O’Banshee called out. She held a greasy Dairy Queen bag in the air. “I brought leftover burgers for everyone. I figured if we’re going to be here all night trying to bust that handsome hunk from the pokey, we’d better have beef. Testosterone, you know.”
Kali withdrew into the seat cushions. “I can’t eat artificially-enhanced meats. I’m expecting.”
“Oh, nothing’s artificial about this.” Theresa laid the bag on top of the Hepplewhite sideboard and sank into the chair Lacy had vacated. “What a wild day. Can you believe I had a starring role in the big crime caper?”
Kali stared at Theresa’s bright red smile. “That’s not as much of a stretch as you might imagine.”
Lacy felt moderately comfortable hiding behind the large wooden screen recreated like the Campbell Soup can on an Andy Warhol painting. Kali could handle the Dairy Queen princess, and maybe in the process glean how much Michael might have inadvertently revealed to Theresa about the investigation. Lacy, on the other hand, had an important call to make.
She dialed in Henry’s sister’s number and prayed God would give her the most comforting words to explain the situation. After a few rings a well-modulated voice answered the call.
“Hi, Jane Robinson? We’ve never met, but I’m a friend of your brother’s.” Lacy glanced down at the flared denim hem dusting the pointed-toe tips of her favorite shoes. She doubted she’d ever forget what she was wearing the day Henry proposed. “And I’m sorry to say I’ve got some bad news. Henry’s in jail. But not too worry because he’s been set-up. Again.”