Winter Winds (25 page)

Dori smiled. There was truly nothing like junior high humor.

“I think we’re getting just a bit off track here,” Phil reminded everyone. “We need to see Dori’s suitcase.”

Dori rose. “Come on. But it’s not my suitcase, just as you guessed, Phil. However there’s no name or anything identifying on it. And if there’s stolen masterpieces in it, I haven’t found them.”

Ryan led the charge upstairs, the others following. In the master bedroom, Dori dragged the suitcase out of the corner where she’d put it. Trev lifted it and deposited it on the bed. He made to open it.

“May I?” Maureen asked, laying a hand on his arm to stop him.

Trev stepped back as Dori said, “I’m afraid that if there was any evidence that would help you, I contaminated it when I went through the contents looking for some identifying information of some kind.”

Maureen shrugged. “It can’t be helped.” Carefully, she studied the case, the latches. She searched the outer pouch, then opened the bag. Then item by item, she lifted out the collection of used clothes, examining each one thoroughly.

“There aren’t any labels on anything,” she commented. “Did you notice?”

Dori hadn’t.

“Cut out so you can’t trace stuff, huh?” Ryan’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

Maureen nodded. When the suitcase was empty, she ran her hands carefully over the lining, taking special care at the seams. Dori watched with interest, seeing nothing suspicious.

“Ah.” Maureen smiled and began to pick at one corner where the lining covered the bottom. With just a little work, the lining peeled back and there lay two small unframed canvases.

“Henri Matisse,” Maureen said as she laid the paintings on the beige duvet.

Dori couldn’t tear her eyes from the glowing canvases. To think they had been in her possession, and she hadn’t even known it. Shouldn’t things this beautiful give off vibrations or emanations or something that let you know they were near?

“They’re small.” Ryan looked disappointed. “I thought masterpieces were big, like in museums, you know?”

“Small or not, they are very valuable.” Maureen studied them with a faint smile. “They belong to a private collector on the West Coast, someone I’d never heard of before we got involved,” Maureen said.

“So now you give them back to him.” Ryan smoothed the duvet around the paintings, his small hands quick and careful. “And the mystery is solved.” He looked up with a delighted grin. “Wait until I tell the kids!”

“Well, uh.”

Dori turned to Maureen as did the others. For the first time she looked somewhat uncomfortable.

“Well, uh, what?” Phil asked. “We’re not allowed to tell?”

Maureen waved her hand in a motion of dismissal. “I’m not worried about you telling, though of course you can’t.”

“Rats,” Ryan said with feeling. “That’s what I was afraid of. Finally something worth talking about at school, and I can’t talk about it.”

Maureen looked sympathetic. “Sorry, guy. See, the thing is that we don’t want just to recover the art. We want to catch the receiver of the stolen goods. That’s why I was at the airport. My partner and I were to follow the suitcase and catch the guy red-handed.”

“And you expected it to come to Seaside?” Dori asked.

Maureen nodded. “Though you were a surprise.”

“Ill bet. But why here? I mean, Seaside is hardly a hotbed of crime.”

Maureen thought for a moment. “We don’t know who the original thief was, and that’s not our major concern. Well leave that part of the puzzle to others. We’re involved because the paintings were to be delivered to Seaside to a crime boss named Neal Jankowski.”

“How do you know this?” Trev asked.

“A CI who wants Jankowski to fall.”

“A CI?”

“A confidential informant.”

“And this crime boss lives in Seaside?” The disbelief was clear in Phil’s voice.

“He works out of Atlantic City, but he likes living in our quiet little town. A better environment for his kids.”

Phil blinked. “Am I the only one to hear the irony in that statement?”

Maureen shrugged. “He’s got four kids he’s crazy about.”

“Jankowski,” Ryan said. “I’ve got a Jankowski in my class. Eric.” The boy’s face darkened. “He’s a bully.”

Maureen picked up one, then the other of the oils and put them back in the suitcase. She gently covered them with the lining.

Dori hated to see them go, they were so beautiful, so full of color. “Can you imagine actually having treasures like that in your house?”

Trev cocked an eye at her. “Pastor’s salaries don’t go that far.”

Ryan had been studying Maureen rather than the pictures. “You’re saying Eric’s dad is Mafia?” Ryan gave a nod of understanding. “Well, that explains a lot.”

Maureen grinned at the boy’s comment. “Not to burst your balloon, but he’s not Mafia. He’s his own man, small-time in the eyes of many, but he’s managed to successfully work out deals with other local crime figures, each getting his cut of the illegal businesses out there, of which, unfortunately, there are many. Our main concern on the Seaside PD is that he has bought a home
here in Seaside, a big, window-filled mansion in the Gardens, right on the beach where he can see the lights of Atlantic City across the inlet. He wants that nice family atmosphere for his family I told you about.”

“Eric.” Ryan made a face. “Some family.”

“He’s got two younger daughters and another son, two years old. Anna is ten and Lucy is eight. His wife is a beautiful lush. I figure she drinks so heavily to escape from her marriage the only way she can.”

Maureen began neatly placing the used clothes back in the suitcase. “We would be more than happy to have the means to get Jankowski out of our hair for a very long time. Seaside neither deserves nor wants him and his ilk. But he’s clever. Though he’s been arrested several times through the years on various charges, there has never been enough solid evidence to convict him. His clever lawyers have seen to that. Catching him with paintings this valuable would be a fine first step in bringing him down. It would also provide federal agencies with the chink in his armor they need to compile a more complete case against him because you can bet he didn’t pay taxes on them.”

“So how do you manage to catch him now that the wrong people—that’s us—have the paintings?” Dori asked.

Once again Maureen looked uncomfortable. “We—ah, that is, the Seaside PD—would, ah, appreciate it if you—”

“Bait!” Ryan shouted. “She wants us to be bait!” He punched the air. “Yes!”

Bait
The word hung in space.

“Well, I don’t know if I’d actually say
bait
,” Maureen began.

“What else would you call it?” Phil asked, the edge to his voice sharp enough to cut steel. “I didn’t bring you here to endanger my family.”

As she watched Maureen meet Phil’s angry look without blinking, Dori wondered if she was seeing the death of a relationship before it began. If so, it was very sad because Maureen was just the woman Phil needed. She knew it.

She also knew Ryan had it right. Bait. She examined the idea carefully. “You want someone to steal the suitcase from us so you can follow it to Jankowski himself.”

Without breaking her staring contest with Phil, Maureen nodded, her black curls bouncing. “That’s it.”

“We don’t have to try to prevent the theft or catch the thief?”

Maureen broke from Phil and looked at Dori, clearly appalled at the very idea. “Absolutely not! We don’t want you to be endangered in any way.”

Dori nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Maureen grinned at all of them. “Thanks!”

“Now wait a minute, Dori.” Trev moved to Dori’s side and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s think this through more carefully.” He turned to Maureen. “What if we run into this thief while he’s in the process of taking the case? He’s not in on our we-won’t-interfere plan. You could be asking Dori or Ryan or even me to put ourselves in danger.”

Dori knew Trev wasn’t worried about himself. She was his concern, though she didn’t think she would be in any danger. Still, it felt surprisingly good that he was protective of her. And Ryan, of course.

Ryan. Trev—and by extension she—was responsible for him and his safety. How would they ever be able to explain to his grandmother if something happened as a result of their willful choice? She looked at the boy, his eyes bright, his cheeks flushed. He’d be just as likely to throw himself at the thief in order to be a hero as not.

On the other hand, how could they look Ryan in the eye if they refused to help? He might end up spending the rest of his school career bullied by Eric Jankowski, and it would be all their fault, to say nothing of the don’t-get-involved message the boy would read loud and clear.

Maureen correctly read the hesitation in Dori’s face. “You wouldn’t have to worry,” she said. “I could stay here for the duration to provide protection. I’d just be Phil’s friend, visiting.” She shot him a look as if daring him to challenge her. “And when I’m not here, someone would be keeping the house under surveillance to follow whoever happened to drop in uninvited.”

Suddenly Phil beamed at her. “Okay.”

Maureen’s eyes went wide with surprise. Then she gave him a beautiful smile that brought that bemused swain look back with a vengeance.

“You just like the idea that Maureen will be here for you to visit.” Trev sounded as testy as Dori had ever heard him.

Phil shrugged. “Yeah. So?”

Ryan looked at Trev, deeply distressed. “Pastor Paul, you’re not thinking of saying no, are you? How can you say no? You’re the pastor!”

Dori watched Trev squirm as all the things Ryan meant in his “You’re the pastor” comment sank in. She laid a hand on his arm. “It’ll be okay. Isn’t this where you’re supposed to say, ‘The Lord will protect us’?”

“Tell that to all the victims of crime,” he muttered.

“Good.” Maureen shut and latched the suitcase. “You guys are the best. Now let’s put this back where it was and settle back to see what happens.”

“No,” Trev said, his face set. “Not in here. Out in the hall closet.”

“Fine,” Maureen said. “No problem.”

Ryan was practically jumping out of his skin. “Can I tell the kids after it’s all over? After you catch the bad guys? Can I? Please?”

Maureen nodded. “But you have to wait until I tell you that you can talk about it. There may be legal ramifications that will put you under a gag order for a while.”

“A gag order.” He shook his head in delighted wonder. “Will I have to testify? Please?”

Maureen grinned at him. “That’s up to the lawyers, Ry. I just catch the bad guys.”

“Gotcha.” He was practically vibrating with delight. “This is almost worth Grandmom falling.” He saw everyone’s shocked looks. “Almost, I said.”

Suddenly the stuffings went out of Dori, and she sagged against the wall. It was all she could do to hold herself upright. She tried to smother a huge yawn but failed.

Trev saw. “Okay, everybody. Out. I promised Dori a nap, and I can’t let her down.” He smiled at her.

Phil and Maureen left immediately, Ryan trailing behind, throwing one last excited look at the suitcase. Trev reached over the pillows of his bed and pulled the covers down. Then he turned to Dori, still propping herself against the wall.

Trev walked to her. “Come on, sweetheart. Not that you need any beauty rest since you’re beautiful already but I know exhaustion when I see it.”

Before she realized what he had in mind, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Automatically her arms went around his neck to steady herself as he moved. She burrowed close. When he lowered her onto the mattress, her arms still around his neck, his face was inches from her. Silently they looked at each other. He blinked first, smiling that wonderful wry smile.

“Well, I guess this will have to do for the moment.” He bent and quickly kissed her cheek. “But only for the moment.”

Her cheek burned where his lips touched it. “Trev, I can’t—” She didn’t even know how to finish her sentence.

“I know. Just relax and sleep.”

He stood and after slipping her shoes off, pulled the covers over her. She watched him walk to the door, the suitcase in his hand. He turned back. Again their eyes met and held. This time she broke the moment as the mother of all yawns exploded.

Trev laughed. “I’m going to take Ryan for a quick visit with his grandmother while you sleep. I’ll make certain Phil and Maureen stay here until I get back.” He blew her a kiss and shut the door.

She wanted to think about him, about her tangled emotions, but no sooner had she heard the click of the door latching than oblivion overtook her.

T
HEY KNOW ABOUT
the paintings.” Barney Noble made the pronouncement with absolute certainty.

Joanne looked at the big man beside her. She was squeezed in the front seat of his car between him and Vinnie early Sunday evening. Barney had met her and Vinnie at her apartment after their return from Amhearst. She wasn’t certain yet what she thought of Barney, but he wasn’t anything like she’d imagined. The way Vinnie talked about him, she expected something like the Hulk in a very, very bad mood. Although Barney could certainly give the Hulk a run for his money sizewise, he was handsome and very pleasant, at least to her. He was also very smart.

“How do you know they know?” she whispered. She’d been watching the gray house just like he had, but all she’d seen was a man and a woman with dark, curly hair come out and take a big black dog for a walk around the block. They had just gone back inside.

Barney looked down at her and smiled. “You don’t have to whisper, sugar. They can’t hear you.”

Joanne blushed. “Sort of stupid, huh?”

“Sort of cute,” Barney corrected.

Joanne stared straight ahead even though she could feel Barney looking down at her. Had he just complimented her?

She didn’t have the nerve to look back at him and find out.

“But to answer your question, sugar, you saw that couple walking the dog?”

She nodded, aware of Vinnie sulking silently against the passenger door.

“He’s Phil Trevelyan, the brother of Paul Trevelyan who’s married to the suitcase lady.”