Ripped From the Pages (28 page)

“I seriously doubt that. It sounds like the war and the fear of the Nazis drove him
crazy.”

“Probably so. But can we honestly believe that he kept all of those things hidden
inside that cave, that he killed his best friend because of some sort of post-Nazi
stress disorder? Did he truly slide down into madness, or was that Marie’s excuse
for his behavior?”

“She didn’t sound as if she was making excuses for him. She sounded heartbroken. It
was much worse to lose her husband than to lose a painting or a fancy dressing table.”

I took a quick sip of water and added, “Frankly, Derek, the world still suffers from
post-Nazi stress disorder. To this day. Look at Trudy. She remembers the tragedy at
Oradour-sur-Glane as if it happened yesterday. Millions of people suffered and died,
and we’re still dealing with the aftermath.”

He nodded. “It was a devastating time.”

We sat in silence for a minute or two. My mind was reeling from Marie’s letter. I
couldn’t imagine having to witness one’s own husband killing his best friend. I sighed.
“Did I tell you what Guru Bob said that day we met the Frenchmen?”

Derek thought for a moment. “I don’t recall your telling me.”

“He talked about his grandfather and wondered if Anton’s purpose was altruistic or
not. If he was a thief, why didn’t he sell off the pieces or display them in his own
home as if they were his? But he never did. That must mean something.”

“It must,” Derek agreed, “but who’s to say what?”

“We’ll never know.” I frowned at Derek. “I hate that.”

I stood up. He met me halfway and we hugged each other. “I’ll call Robson in the morning,”
he said, “and arrange a time to meet. He should know as soon as possible, for his
own sake.”

“Yes, he should. I remember telling him that there was absolutely no way his grandfather
could’ve killed that man in the cave,
but Guru Bob wasn’t so sure. He said he didn’t have my confidence simply because he
never met his grandfather. I mean, I never met the guy, either, but I couldn’t imagine
Guru Bob would be related to someone who would do something so . . . well. I guess
he was right to withhold judgment. Even of his own flesh and blood.”

We sat quietly with our thoughts for a minute; then Derek said, “The letter does answer
a question I had about the cave itself. Why did Anton build a second chamber? What
was the purpose?”

“It sounds like the small, inner chamber was already there,” I said.

“Yes. He filled it to capacity with the rarest artwork and silver, plus a few pieces
of furniture. The big furniture and other items remained in the larger storage-cave
area.”

“That makes sense, especially if he believed he’d be sending things back to France
eventually.”

“Yes, but he never did. He was completely mad by the time Jean Pierre showed up. Marie’s
letter says that in so many words. And once Jean Pierre was killed, Anton had to single-handedly
wall up the area in front of the small chamber, creating a second cave with his friend
inside.

“He did a darn good job with that wall,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

“Indeed,” Derek said. “None of us, not even the excavation team, suspected there was
anything behind it except a mountain of rock and packed dirt.”

I rested my head on Derek’s shoulder, and he rubbed my back. “Let’s go to bed, love,”
he said. “Tomorrow’s going to be another busy day.”

*   *   *

U
pon reading the translated letter, Guru Bob was overwhelmed.

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

“I appreciate that, gracious.” He took hold of my hand. “You have been so good and
kind throughout this ordeal. I wish there was some way to relieve the pain you are
feeling at having to deliver this unfortunate news to me.”

“My pain?” Shaken, I glanced at Derek and then back at Guru Bob. “No, Robson, I’m
not the one in pain. I’m worried about you and your pain.”

He smiled. “You have such a beautiful heart. I know you were not prepared to discover
the truth about my grandfather, while I have had years to prepare myself for this
inevitability.”

“You have?”

“Yes.” He sat back in his chair, calmer than he had been a minute ago. “I have been
struggling with how to deal with the news if it was bad, and now I know. As reparation
for my grandfather’s deed, I plan to build a museum of tolerance and justice in Dharma.
It will be a serene space where people can come to celebrate mankind’s goodness while
never forgetting that it coexists with evil. What do you think?”

I smiled and blinked away my tears. “I think it’s a dandy idea.”

“Dandy.” He grinned. “I like that.”

*   *   *

D
erek and I split up after our meeting with Guru Bob. I drove into town to meet China
for lunch and follow up on some official bridesmaids’ duties while Derek drove over
to Frenchman’s Hill to discuss the delivery of the inventoried items. I tried not
to worry about him having to confront Henri, but I
knew he could take care of himself. And if worse came to worst, he did have that big,
badass gun in his glove compartment.

Derek had insisted that Henri had been on his best behavior since our first meeting,
so I figured the only weapon he would have to use was his innate charm.

I parked on the Lane near Annie’s shop. Since I was early, I decided to stop in to
say hello.

“Hey, you,” she said as she gathered a red-and-white-checkered tablecloth into a decorative
knot. She surrounded it with all sorts of pastas and jars of red sauce. On the table
display were pasta makers and bright red bowls and utensils for stirring and mixing
sauces. “Wish I could meet you guys for lunch, but I’m manning the store this afternoon.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take notes on everything.”

“Okay. Just let me know what you need me to do.”

“I will, thanks.” My gaze settled on the jar of rich, thick red sauce filled with
basil and mushrooms and onions. “Wow, this display is making me hungry for pasta.
That hardly ever happens.”

She laughed. “Only every other minute, right?”

“Right. I could pretty much eat it every day.”

“Mm. Me, too.”

I looked at the red bowls and decided on the spot to buy them for the Quinlans. They
would look cheerful and bright in their glass-fronted kitchen cabinet. Then I picked
up one of the cellophane-wrapped bags of pasta and the jar of red sauce. The perfect
meal. Now if only I could boil water. But maybe Derek would handle that part.

“You just made a sale,” I said, holding up the bowls, the bag of pasta, and the jar
of sauce.

She laughed again. “Hurray.”

“You’re awfully chipper. How’s it going?”

“It’s going great. Life is good.”

“That’s so nice to hear. Oh, hey. How was your date?”

“It started out great, but then Josh had to cut it short. He got some message about
a deadline.”

“That’s too bad. What time did you get home?”

“Around nine o’clock. Maybe nine thirty.”

“Do you know what he was working on?”

Annie gave me a frown. “What is this, twenty questions?”

“Sorry, just wondering. No big deal.”

But Derek had seen Noland Garrity sneaking up to the storage cave around that time,
and then he’d been attacked. The timing was about right, if Josh Atherton left Annie
and drove to the winery.

I was grasping at straws again. Josh Atherton specialized in antiquities, so he was
researching the cave discoveries and maybe even the caves themselves. He seemed like
a really smart guy. Would he honestly care enough to get caught stealing a Renoir?
And what could possibly connect him to Trudy? I was only suspicious of him because
I was protective of Annie, and that wasn’t fair. So I brushed those thoughts away,
paid for my pasta, and went to meet China for lunch.

*   *   *

O
n Saturday the winery held its big Pre-Harvest celebration of the fall season. We
had made plans to take Trudy with us, but then Elizabeth wanted to go, too. And since
Gabriel refused to let Trudy out of his sight, he was in, too. He drove the two ladies,
and Derek and I met them all in the parking lot.

I waved at Annie, who had arrived with Josh. They did indeed make a cute couple, and
I felt a twinge of guilt for discouraging her about him. When we walked into the tasting
room, Robin and Austin were both at work at the bar along with Jackson and Dad. Mom
joined us five minutes later, and it was officially a party.

We’d been tasting wine for fifteen minutes, laughing and chitchatting about everything
under the sun—but mostly about wine and the attack on Noland Garrity. Robin noted
that some of the winery employees were a little nervous about it, but Derek and Gabriel
assured her that the attack was an isolated incident and they had nothing to worry
about.

It was interesting to watch Jackson with Elizabeth. There was definitely sexual tension
ringing between them, although they barely made eye contact. I took a quick trip to
the ladies’ room, where Robin cornered me.

“What’s going on between Jackson and Miss Universe?”

I laughed at her title for Elizabeth. It fit the statuesque woman, but she was so
much more than a beauty queen. I couldn’t say too much, but I managed to tweak her
interest. “Apparently they knew each other in a past life, so there’s some residual
smoldering.”

“Smoldering,” she said, nodding slowly. “Good word. Darn, I’ve got to get back, but
we need to do lunch.”

“Absolutely. We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

“Yippee.”

As we walked back into the tasting room, the heavy French doors swung open and a well-dressed
couple walked in. I was taken aback as I recognized Monsieur Cloutier and his charming
wife, Solange, from Frenchman’s Hill. We’d had lunch at their home with Guru Bob that
first day when we went there to tell them about the cave discovery.

Seconds behind them, Henri and his wife, Sophie, entered, followed by Felix, the old
man who had the habit of smacking Henri to keep him in line.

“Bonjour,”
I said, greeting them all politely since they had been civil with Derek the other
day when he went to talk to them.

“Bonjour,”
Solange said, and her husband nodded. The others
greeted me in a friendly way, and I felt the beginnings of a rapprochement. The thought
made me smile.

“Welcome,” Austin said jovially, and set five wineglasses on the bar in front of the
visitors. “Your tastings are on the house today, compliments of Robson Benedict.”

“No, no, that is not necessary,” Henri protested.

I walked over to Henri and gave him a big smile. “Please, we insist. You are our honored
guests.”

Felix smacked his arm. “
Imbécile
. When someone offers you free wine, you take it.”

Everyone laughed, including Henri, and I figured this had to be their regular routine.

As I walked back to the bar, Annie stopped me. “Josh and I were just talking about
you.”

“Me? What’s up?”

“I think we should all go out some night this week.”

I glanced at Josh, who was biting back a grin. The action only made his dimples more
prominent. “It wasn’t my idea,” he said.

I gave him the benefit of the doubt, especially since he seemed to make Annie happy.
“Okay, I’ll see what Derek’s schedule looks like and I’ll call you.”

“Super,” Annie said.

I started to walk away, when Josh pulled me aside. Pointing at Trudy, he said, “Is
that the woman who was attacked last week?”

I frowned. “Yes.”

“Please don’t think I’m being crass, but do you think she would be willing to talk
to me?”

“As a reporter?” My frown grew deeper.

“Well, yeah,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I mean, that’s my job.
I won’t push her, but she’s been inside the caves, right? I’m trying to paint a complete
picture of your discovery, and she would be a good one to talk to.”

Paint a complete picture,
I thought. It sounded like the same blathering nonsense I’d heard from Darlene and
Shawn when we caught them by the storage cave that night. Were they all in cahoots?
I tried not to think about it as I glanced at Trudy and then back at Josh. “She’s
not quite ready to talk yet.”

“I understand,” he said, backing off instantly. “And I didn’t mean to bother you.
I’d like us all to be friends.”

Over his shoulder I saw Annie looking tentative. I hated to cause her worry, so I
nodded and smiled. “No problem.”

I returned to Derek and Trudy just as Robin was pouring us the first glass, a wonderful
muscadet that Dharma was famous for. It was light-bodied and mineral-edged, with a
hint of apples. But it wasn’t sweet at all, just crisp and refreshing.

“Oh, this is a favorite of mine,” Trudy said after her first sip. She looked so healthy
and happy to be out among friends, I almost forgot she’d been viciously attacked only
days ago and that Amelia’s killer was still on the loose. The fact that Trudy was
in her seventies was another fact I tended to forget, but in that moment I felt a
new resolve to protect her.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Elizabeth said, swirling her glass.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jackson watching her, and I wondered idly
if she might stay in town for a while.

Elizabeth took a step forward to avoid bumping into a new group of people coming into
the room. A fellow behind her moved even closer, and Elizabeth’s glass bobbled in
her hand. I tried to grab it, but it fell and shattered on the concrete floor.

She pressed her hands over her mouth in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s my fault,” the fellow insisted, and stooped down to pick up the broken stem.
On his way back up, his gaze scanned her entire body, ending at her gorgeous waterfall
of black hair streaming down her back.

He looked dazed.

As a way to get Elizabeth’s attention, it was doomed to fail. I caught a glimpse of
Robin, who studiously ignored the fellow and pushed a new wineglass over to Elizabeth.
“No worries, occupational hazard,” she said with a wink, and poured her another few
ounces of white wine.