6 Beach Blanket Barbie (16 page)

“You’re the cop,” Levi pointed out. “Seems like that
’s something you should know.”

Salinger frowned.

“Phillip told me that he saw Barbie leave the restaurant the night of her death,” I provided. “He said she left alone on foot. He didn’t mention her carrying a painting.”

“So maybe she made the deal earlier
and then had dinner with Pinkerton Lowell to celebrate,” Levi pointed out.

“Where was she staying?” Salinger asked. “M
aybe she left the painting in her room.”

“No, she wouldn’t do that if she was planning to double
-cross whomever she was working for,” I pointed out. “She’d hide it somewhere her partners wouldn’t think to look.”

“The cemetery,” Levi said. “She’d hide it in the cemetery.”

“What? Why?” I asked.

“There
’s a crypt in the cemetery. It’s really old and hasn’t been used in years. One time we,” Levi paused, “visited it, and Barbie made the comment that it would be a good place to hide something.”

Visited it?
Eww.
I knew what was implied.

“So let’s go and check it out,” Salinger s
aid.

“I’ll tell Ellie what we’re doing,” I offered.
“She won’t be done for another hour at least, so I’ll arrange to meet up with her after we check out the cemetery.”

The Ashton Falls Cemetery, an old establishment dating back to before the development of the town, was several miles away. The crypt Levi mentioned had been built over a hundred years earlier. It was old and starting to look a bit weathered, and as far as I could tell, no one had accessed the locked door for years. Levi reached into a crevice that was hidden by years of overgrowth. He must have pushed a lever or something because the door popped open ever so slightly. Levi pushed the door open the rest of the way, while Salinger shone his flashlight inside. It was dark and dank and dusty, not at all the type of place that would lend itself to acts of amorous affection.

Salinger balked. “I’m not going in there.”

“Scared of the dark?” Levi teased.

“Claustrophobic.”

“We’ll go; you wait here,” I suggested.

Salinger handed Levi his flashlight. Levi went in first and I followed behind.

At first I couldn’t make out any details as my eyes struggled to adjust to the dark. After a few minutes, I was able to see that there were compartments carved into the walls, with wooden coffins placed inside of them. The nooks carved into the walls were just barely large enough for each coffin to be slid inside, so all that could be observed of the final resting places of those buried within the walls were the very back edges of the wooden boxes. Each box had a name and date carved into it: Harvey Johnson 1865–1926, Lillian Johnson 1842–1905.

“Wow
, these are really old,” I whispered. I don’t know why I was whispering; it wasn’t as if the residents of the crypt were going to hear me.

“Yeah, they go back a bit.”

In the center of the room were two coffins, placed side by side on a stone pedestal, giving them an air of importance. I didn’t know anything about the history of the place, but I was willing to bet these coffins belonged to some powerful couple, while the others buried around the room most likely belonged to family or other people associated with them.

Levi began to open the lid
of one of the coffins in the center of the room.

“Levi
, what are you doing?” I hissed.

“We need to look inside.”

“Someone is buried in there. It seems so . . .” I searched for a word that would convey the depth of my revulsion and discomfort that Levi was about to disturb the last resting place of some long-ago human who’d lived in the area.

“Don’t worry. It’s empty,” Levi informed me.

“Empty? How do you know that?”

I couldn’t actually see Levi
’s coloring in the darkened room, but I was certain he was blushing. “We looked inside when Barbie and I were here before,” he answered.

Levi lifted the lid
, then shone the light into the interior of the box and lifted out the painting that had caused such a stir. It was probably about three feet by three feet in size, unframed, and appeared to have been painted by a talented if not overly original artist. Levi handed it to me as he replaced the lid.

“Let’s get out of here,” I whispered.

“Yeah, okay.” Levi took one last look around before we returned to the entrance of the room, where Salinger was waiting. We closed the door to the crypt, being careful to make sure it latched, and followed the sheriff back to his office.

“What now?” I asked as Levi and I sat across from Salinger
, who was sitting behind his desk.

“I guess we get an art specialist to tell us what all the fuss is about
,” Salinger said.

“Are there any of those in Ashton Falls?” I wondered.

“Doubtful,” Salinger admitted. “I’ll call the Bryton Lake office and have them send someone up. I’m sure it will be at least a day or two before anyone gets here. I’ll lock this up in the evidence room in the meantime. Maybe we can get some prints off it as well.”

“You’ll call us when you hear anything?”

“Yeah, I’ll call.”

The water-sports demonstration was held in midmorning, while the lake was still free of waves from recreational boats. Even though we hadn’t had much time to practice, Levi and I rocked the show with simultaneous gun barrels across the wake. We’d been skiing and boarding together since we were kids, so we enjoyed a natural rhythm others would need hours of concentrated practice to duplicate. After the competition, I needed to hurry back to the park for the pet adoption clinic, so I arranged to meet up with Zak later in the day, after he’d taken Scooter home to his father.

“Good turn out,” Jeremy commented as droves of spectators wandered among the rows of animal cages.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “We’ve already collected over twenty apps. Most of them look like good prospects. We’re going to be busy processing everyone.”

“We have nine applications from locals who want to take their pet home today. I think they all meet our criteria
, and since we know them, I figured we could skip the background checks. I told them to come back in a couple of hours.” Jeremy handed me the stack of applications.

I looked through the
m. Most wanted puppies; a few wanted kittens. “Yeah, they look good. Go ahead and make the arrangements. Any others we need to deal with right away?”

“Most of the other applications are from visitors from out of the area who are more than happy to pick their pet
s up on their way out of town tomorrow afternoon, but there was one application from a man interested in Juniper. He said he’d only be in town for the day.”

Juniper was a Great Dane mix who weighed over 175 pounds. He was not only a large animal but had an abundance of energy as well. We’d need just the right placement for th
is high-maintenance dog. I considered the application. The man lived on a ten-acre parcel in the valley. He was a retired firefighter who now worked as a freelance writer, single, and lived alone, and his last dog had passed away three months earlier.  He listed five references, including a veterinarian in the valley who I’d met on a couple of occasions.

“Go ahead and call this veterinarian. I’ve met him a few times and he seems like a good guy.  If he
’ll vouch for the guy, go ahead and arrange for the adoption.”

“Okay, fantastic. The guy seemed to really want to take Juniper home today.”

“It looks like Rosalie is fixated on that little black kitten,” I said, referring to Jeremy’s former neighbor, a five-year-old who had moved to the area with her mother, Jessica, the month before. “Too bad she can’t have a pet in the apartment complex where they live.”

“I’ve been sitting here for the past half hour watching her. I’m actually considering adopting the kitten myself. Jessica and Rosalie babysit for Morgan several times a week. She can play with her when she
’s at my place.”

“If you want to do that
, you’d better stick an
adopted
sign on the cage. I’ve noticed several other people who have an eye on her.”

Jeremy hesitated briefly. “I suppose I should ask Phyllis about it.” Jeremy had rented Phyllis King’s condo. “She was fine with my having Squeaky
, but a kitten is another thing.”

“
Put the
adopted
sign on the kitten so no one else snaps her up and call Phyllis. If I know Phyllis, and I do, she’ll be fine with it.”

“Okay
.” Jeremy smiled. “I’ll do it. Rosalie will be so excited.”

By the time midafternoon rolled around
, most of the animals had either been adopted or had adoption applications pending. It looked like the Zoo was going to be quiet the upcoming week, although experience had taught me that as soon as we moved them out, new animals needing homes moved in. Spring and early summer was our busiest time for puppies and kittens. Every puppy or kitten owner who dropped off a litter was given a certificate for a free spay for their pet and strongly encouraged to use it. Most did, but a few pet owners continued to bring litter after litter to us.

“You going to the
arts and music festival?” Jeremy asked as we began cleaning up.

“Yeah
. Zak should be back from dropping off Scooter in a half hour or so. I thought we’d check it out before we’re supposed to meet up with Levi and Ellie later this evening.”

“I heard they had some good bands this year. I might go pick up Morgan from the sitter and bring her back over. You were right about her liking the lights and commotion.
”

“Yeah, there are a lot of new sights, smells, and sounds for a baby to check out. Mom said Harper was really interested in everything for about an hour and then became overly stimulated and fussy.”

“Same thing happened to Morgan yesterday, although I think she’ll really like the music. Anytime I can’t get her to sleep, I sing to her. She really seems to enjoy the sound of my guitar.”

“Did you get hold of Phyllis?”

“I did, and she was fine with me adopting Fred.”

“She already has a name?”

“Rosalie’s idea.”

“You’d better make sure Fred
and Squeaky aren’t left alone unless Squeaky is in his cage. Somehow I can see Fred deciding he’d be a fun play toy.”

“Don’t worry
, I’ll keep them apart. I had both a hamster and a cat when I was growing up and it worked out okay.”

“Yes
, but Fred is a kitten and much more likely to want to play with the little guy.”

“True.”

“Will you bring Jessica and Rosalie with you if you come back for the music festival?”

“I plan to ask them
, although I’m betting Rosalie will want to stay at my place to play with Fred. Now that I think about it, maybe I should stay home and supervise.”

“You can always take Fred
to the Zoo and pick her up later,” I suggested.

Jeremy glanced toward where Rosa
lie was sitting next to Fred’s cage. “I don’t think Rosalie will go for that. I can always catch the music festival next year. Maybe Morgan and I will BBQ for Jessica and Rosalie at my place instead of coming back into town.”

I smiled at my assistant. I couldn’t believe how much he’d changed since he’d become a dad. The old Jeremy would never have chosen to miss an opportunity to hang out, drink beer, and listen to jazz. Although he was only twenty
-one, he was a lot more settled than many of my friends who were a good ten years older.

Walking hand in hand with Zak at the arts and music festival was the most fun I’d had in a long time. The sun on my bare shoulders felt wonderful, and the fantastic food offerings, paired with beer tasting from many fine breweries, left me feeling relaxed and mellow. Having him spend time with Scooter appeared to have been really good for both of them, but I had to admit I was happy to have Zak back to myself for a while. I hadn’t wanted to intrude on the guy time Zak and Scooter shared, so other than a meal here and there, I’d spent very little time with him for almost a week.

“I haven’t heard this band before,” Zak commented as we sat on a bench under a tree.

“They’re new this year,” I said as I nibbled on a deep fried prawn I’d dipped in the best cocktail sauce I’d ever tasted. “They have a unique sound I really like.”

“Woul
d you like another glass of beer?” Zak asked, noticing that my glass was empty.

“Yeah,
but not right now. I thought we’d listen to the music for a while and then walk around a bit more. There are a couple of new breweries I want to check out.”

“I
thought Levi and Ellie would be here by now.”

I laid my head on his shoulder as we continued to listen to the music. “Ellie decided to work since Rob and Hannah weren’t here
. She mentioned meeting us at the Beach Hut at around seven. I have no idea where Levi is today. He’s really focused on this investigation. It looks like we’ve figured out most of what was going on, but there are still a few missing pieces. I think that’s making him kind of nuts.”

“Have you talked to Salinger today?” Zak asked.

“No, although I half-expected him to come by looking for me. There’s definitely something going on here that can’t be explained by the painting everyone seems to have been after.”

Zak looked at his phone and frowned.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“It’s a text from Scooter. I gave him my number and told him he could text me any time.”

“He has a phone?”

“I bought him one when we went shopping. I really hope things get better with his dad
, but I hated to send him home not knowing how the guy will behave once they’re together again.”

“Has
his father been abusive?” I asked.

“Not so much abusive as neglectful. The text I just received
is asking if I can meet him over near the elementary school. He says it’s important.”

“Go ahead. I’ll head over to Ellie’s. Meet me there when you
’re done. I’ll see if I can find Levi as well, and the four of us can hang out tonight. Maybe we can have a nice dinner.”

I decided to stop by Salinger’s office on my way over to Ellie’s. I doubted he had any news
, but I was curious about the painting and why anyone would be willing to kill for it. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it appeared to be pretty common, not that I’m an art expert. I’d parked my truck near where the pet adoption had been held, so I decided to walk the half mile or so to the sheriff’s office.

I was turning onto Main Street when I noticed Phillip Hayes ducking into
the yoga studio. I didn’t realize Phillip delivered water on the weekend, but I knew Serenity offered classes on Saturdays, so maybe they’d worked something out.

T
he receptionist at the sheriff’s office informed me that Salinger was on patrol at the arts and music festival. I should have realized he’d be there with the large influx of out-of-town guests. I asked her if she could radio him to arrange a place for us to meet. After several attempts to contact him, we finally were able to arrange a meeting at the kiddie carnival in twenty minutes.

As I walked back through town
, I saw that Phillip’s van was still in front of the yoga studio. It had been more than twenty minutes since I’d passed by, so perhaps he wasn’t there to deliver water after all. Phillip and Serenity? Nah. Serenity could do better and besides, I’m sure she would consider hooking up with a married man to be a karma killer. Serenity paid more attention to things like karma and auras than anyone I’d ever met.

As arranged
, Salinger was waiting for me near the fishing booth. I waved to him as I approached, and he indicated that I should follow him over to one of the empty benches at the food court.

“So what can I do for you?” he asked.

“I mostly just wanted to find out if you had any news on the painting.”

“Actually
, I do,” Salinger informed me. “Let’s walk while we talk. I really should be patrolling, and what I have to tell you is sensitive, so I wouldn’t want anyone to overhear our conversation.’

“Yeah, okay.” I stood
up and followed Salinger as he walked toward the bandstand, where a new band was starting up.

“I called the Bryton Lake office when I returned from retrieving the painting yesterday. As expected
, they informed me that they wouldn’t be able to send anyone out to look at it for at least a week. The woman who cleans our offices overheard the conversation and informed me that one of the panelist who had been recruited to judge the art show worked in a museum. She suggested that he might be able to look at the painting. I contacted the man, who was happy to cooperate. As we thought, he said the painting, while pleasant, is nothing spectacular. He initially said he had no idea why anyone would kill for it, but after examining it more closely, he noticed that the frame looked quite old. He theorized that there might be a painting beneath the landscape. To make a long story short, when we removed the canvas from the frame, we found another canvas beneath the landscape. The man informed me that the hidden painting had been part of a collection that was stolen eight months ago. It’s worth millions.”

“Wow.”

“Wow is right. We’re still putting all the pieces together, but it looks like Ms. Bennington worked for a gang who fences stolen property. The stolen items are hidden inside or behind ordinary ones, which are then offered for sale at auctions. It appears it was Ms. Bennington’s job to buy the pieces and then deliver them to the buyers. As we suspected, it looks like she was supposed to buy the painting, but it was sold to the owner of One Man’s Trash before she was able to complete the transaction. She tried to steal it back, but I caught her.”

“What about Pinkerton Lowell?” I asked as we circled back around to the kiddie carnival. “Was he involved in some way?”

“Not as far as we can tell. I did manage to have a telephone conversation with him. He told me that he saw the painting in One Man’s Trash while he was browsing. Something about it caught his eye, so he bought it. When Ms. Bennington tracked him down and explained that she was an art buyer who was supposed to secure it for a client, he gladly sold it to her. She was grateful and agreed to have dinner with him. He says he left town later that evening.”