No Hope In New Hope (Samantha Jamison Mystery Book 7) (9 page)

Chapter 33

Where Did You Disappear To?

There it was with a flourish: Anne’s signature.

But then Betty rushed in, flushed and breathless.

“Where did you disappear to?” Hazel asked, concerned.

Betty glanced to the door then said, “I followed
her
.”

I guided Betty over to a chair to sit down. “Who?”

“Abby, who else would I follow?” she said, all excited.

“What happened to that list from Abby?” asked Hazel.

“I thought it was more important to follow Abby first to see if what she said was true: her delivery across town.”

“Smart,” said Hazel, then waved Betty on to continue.

“Well, at first I thought I was wasting my time.”

“I hear a loud
but
in those words,” I said.

“Never underestimate my dogged perseverance.”

Hazel tsked. “We’re still waiting. Spill the beans.”

Betty gave her a sharp look. “Let me catch my breath.”

I poured her a fresh cup of coffee. She still appeared winded:
from excitement or rushing back to us?

“You will not believe Abby’s destination…”

Betty was milking it, while we waited in anticipation.

“Abby stopped at the Price Gallery, then was escorted into their back room, and five minutes later, exited empty-handed. Do you know what this means?”

“Looks like she was meeting the owner or possibly an employee who works there.” I suggested.

“Well, I’ll be!” Hazel said.

“Which raises questions,” I said.

“Let’s hear them,” said Betty.

I smiled. “Either Abby acted on her own, or she was instructed to make that delivery: no questions asked.”

“Which leads to more questions,” Hazel added.

“Why are
they
buying this gallery’s art?” Betty asked.

“Maybe this is
not
Abby’s first delivery,” said Hazel.

“We need more follow up of what’s going on,” I said.

“You mean tail Anne
and
Abby?” asked Hazel.

“Yes, until we’re sure what this is all about.”

“Sure of what?” Betty asked, still connecting the dots.

I explained to her what I’d been up to and what I found in Anne’s desk. “Question: are the two events linked?”

Betty got it. “…And who and how many are involved.”

I had to speak with Clay. Until we had a rock-solid lead, speculation was futile. We needed additional evidence.

I heard my phone ding. It was a text: Clay.
‘Found a possible lead.’
I couldn’t wait to compare notes with him.

It was right then I realized Martha hadn’t touched base
.

My phone dinged again, another text: this one from Martha.

Hazel said, “Why are you frowning?”

“Who texted?” Betty asked.

I looked up at them both. “Martha spotted Tony G!”

“Where?” Hazel and Betty asked simultaneously.

“At Italian Cucina. She needs wheels now!”

Chapter 34

And They’re Off!

Clay took Chris’ Harley to the gallery. I drove the Jeep. So that’s what we took to the Italian restaurant.

I turned my head. “That’s Tony going the other way!”

Hazel pointed up ahead. “Look! There she is!”

Martha was furiously waving her arms. We pulled over so she could jump into the front seat. “Follow that…”

I was already making a U turn to head north on River Road to follow Tony’s SUV. “This should be interesting.”

“Took long enough. I hope we don’t lose him,” she said.

I grinned, pressing the pedal. “Not if I can help it.”

While I kept a safe distance back, Hazel and Betty filled Martha in on what we discovered while she was gone.

“You three were busy,” she said, nodding in approval.

Hazel patted Martha’s shoulder. “Not so bad yourself.”

“Where is he going?” Hazel asked, looking up ahead.

“Try not to lose him,” said Betty.

As Tony made a sharp left a bad feeling set in.

“This scenery feels somewhat familiar,” said Martha.

Another mile and silence descended on our car, as Tony slowed down at a wide driveway, pulled in several feet then parked. We watched from a safe distance, recognizing that closed front gate: we were back at the Worths’ house
.

Martha’s mouth dropped open. “What the heck…?”

Tony walked up to the keypad and punched in numbers.

I turned to the others, shocked. “He knows the code.”

Hazel’s brows furrowed. “This doesn’t look good.”

Betty leaned forward. “Are you thinking what I am?”

We watched Tony in silence.

The gate opened and Tony drove through, like he owned the place. He left it open.
Must not be staying long.

“At least he doesn’t have a remote,” said Martha.

We all turned to her, waiting for her reasoning.

“
Real family
gets remotes.”

I let it go. Questioning her rational made matters worse.

Martha stared up ahead then turned back to me. “It looks like we’ll have to hoof it up the long driveway, skirting the woods for cover. Those open front fields are easy pickings for us to get spotted. You do realize that it’s a quarter of a mile hike.”

I shrugged. “I don’t see how we have a choice.”

Betty reminded her about the driveway annunciator.

“A car would set it off, not us walking in,” I added. “If he’s already inside, he’d be notified someone was here.”

Hazel clapped her hands. “Another covert operation!”

Betty was getting hyped too. “Let’s case the place!”

Martha griped, “It’s damn inconvenient though.”

“It’s a part of sleuthing,” reminded Hazel.

Betty looked down at Martha’s feet. “You wore heels?”

Martha turned to her. “When you’ve got great legs you showcase them.” Then Martha grinned broadly, and just like a practiced magician, whipped out a pair of flats from her mammoth purse. “Okay, let’s do this baby!”

Chapter 35

Always Expect The Unexpected

I know I constantly repeat to the others to always expect the unexpected, but I had a bad feeling about this. What was Tony doing with the code to the Worths’ front gate? Did he have a key too? Had I been staying here while this guy had access? What good was a security system if the so-called bad guys were already on the inside? I involuntarily recoiled. He was one weird guy with an unpredictable attitude. And considering he may have some
undesirable
connections, this did not bode well for us. No, not one bit.

We left the car parked off to the side by another neighbor’s house and passed through the gate and headed for the dense tree line for cover. The evergreens were thick and over a hundred feet in height. We weaved back and forth behind their cover, steadily making our way closer, then stopped about fifty feet from the Worths’ stone house.

“How do you want to play this?” Martha asked me.

“We could go along the back, but that would waste too much time. Let’s skirt the front toward the garages, okay?”

The others agreed and we followed each other in a line.

Five minutes later I held up my hand. “Wait! I hear…”

“An engine is running by the garages,” Betty whispered. “What could Tony possibly be doing out there?”

“Could be sitting there and talking on his phone,” I said.

“Maybe to make a quick getaway,” ventured Betty.

Hazel whispered, “Well, he must be doing something.”

“Standing here won’t tell us what, will it?” Martha said.

We edged along the side of the garages then I held up my hand once more when we reached the large doors. I cautiously peered around the corner.

I drew in a breath. “He’s loading a crate into his SUV.”

“A crate of what? From where?” asked Hazel.

By this time Martha was leaning over my shoulder.

“It looks just like the crates at the gallery. …Paintings?”

We quickly crossed the driveway, peering through thick evergreens that surrounded a large windowless utility shed.

“I had no idea it was there!” I said, startled.

“The Worths’
know
they have a shed fifty yards away. It’s their property,” said Martha. “And the implications…”

I countered with, “There’s always the off-chance they don’t use it. I mean, do they look like they’d even walk in that shed? Could someone else be handing off this stuff to Tony without their knowledge when they travel?”

“Remember the initials AW on that lighter?” she asked.

Were they Alicia’s?
How was Clay going to react when he was told? They were his friends. At least he thought they were. And it wouldn’t be the first time and certainly not the last time someone lied to one of us. But a betrayal trumped
buying
into the gallery. I didn’t like what I was witnessing.

Tony jumped into his SUV. We dove for the bushes and watched as he passed by, heading down the drive to leave.

Was Tony robbing them or in cahoots with them?

Chapter 36

Taking A Look

Martha kept looking back at the shed. I
knew
that look.

“Uh-uh,” I said, shaking my head no. “Don’t suggest it.”

“What harm would it do?” she asked innocently.

Hazel and Betty exchanged glances and frowned.

“I don’t do sheds,” declared Betty, brushing herself off.

“You know I detest dark, closed in spaces,” said Hazel.

Martha waved off their protests. “It’s broad daylight.”

I considered it.
Evidence?
“Maybe there’s electricity.”

“You see?” said Martha. “Sam thinks it’s a good idea.”

I headed toward the shed. The others followed.

Then Hazel brightened. “I bet he locked it.”

“That would be prudent,” added Betty, hopefully.

I stared at the double-doors. A long bar slid up and down to latch it then a padlock. And
that
was left unlocked. I lifted the bar and entered. The center was filled with a large flatbed trailer (
probably for Chris’ Harleys
) and multiple rolls of wire fencing, guessing, (to protect the evergreens from the deer in winter?)

“The rest is typical tool shed items.”

I checked the perimeter: tools, blower, rakes, etc.…

“I don’t see any art in here or anything related to it.”

“That makes it the perfect hiding spot,” said Betty.

Out of nowhere, a gust of wind slammed the doors shut. We heard the bar drop in place and were now in the dark.

“Stay put,” I instructed. “I’ll go unlatch the doors.”

I felt my way over, stumbling into a few items, stepping around the fencing and tools. The shed was about fifteen feet by twenty feet, so it took me a few minutes. I got to the doors and cautiously felt for the thumb latch. The whole shed was made of rough sawn wood. I gently touched the surface to avoid getting splinters. I finally stopped when it dawned on me there was no latch on the inside. “Uh-oh!”

Now skittish, I jumped when a hand tapped me.

“What do you mean, uh-oh?” demanded Martha.

There was shuffling then four iPhone flashlights flicked on. It didn’t matter. There was no inside latch.

“If no one uses it from the inside, why have one? Those logs down there must prop the two doors open,” I said.

“Too late now. How are we to get out?” asked Betty.

“Let’s call Clay,” said Martha.

I looked down at my cellphone: nothing. “Martha, check yours. I have no signal. Betty and Hazel try yours too.”

“Zip, zilch, uh-uh,” they responded in succession.

…We were in a no-fly signal zone.

I heard labored breathing behind me and turned.

Betty put a hand on Hazel’s arm. “Easy does it now.”

“…Her panic attacks,” said Betty. “Any exit plans?”

“Well, we can’t rake our way out, can we?” said Martha.

“How about we try pushing on the doors?” I said.

The four of us heaved at the count of three. …Nothing.

“We could yell,” I suggested, “but it’s isolated here.”

There was a moment of silence then…

“Help! Help! Help! Help!”