Chapter 24 #2
Gary glanced at the framed photos on the senator’s desk. “You said you have children?”
He nodded. “Two, but they’re adopted.” Then he froze at the sound of a knock on the door.
Mrs. Cain came into the office, carrying a tray of coffee. She raised her eyebrows at the sight of the whiskey glass but said nothing as she placed the tray on the desk. She straightened and gave her husband an inquiring glance. “Are you all right?”
“Della…. They know about Cheryl and me.”
Mrs. Cain’s back became rigid. “I see.” She narrowed her gaze. “You swore to me no one knew about it.”
“And no one did.”
“Then who told them?”
Dan cleared his throat. “Cheryl did.”
Her mouth fell open.
“You stayed with your husband,” Gary remarked.
Mrs. Cain gave a casual shrug. “I didn’t want a divorce.
Why should I? I like being the wife of a senator.
” She straightened. “And now I’ll leave you to your questions.
Doubtless you have more of them.” Then her shoulders slumped a little.
“I thought we’d heard the last of her when she turned up in that tunnel. ” She walked out of the door.
Senator Cain stared at the closed door. “You’ll have to forgive Della.
I was thirty-five when Cheryl and I first…
got together, and Della was convinced it was nothing more than an early midlife crisis.
She let me have what she thought would be a momentary dalliance, except it wasn’t.
Cheryl captivated me. She went to a place in my heart I hadn’t even known existed.
” He blinked, then coughed. “I don’t see why anyone has to know.
It was a long time ago. And it has nothing to do with her death. ”
Gary had to agree. He didn’t doubt for a second the senator loved Cheryl—Gary could hear it in his voice, see it in his face. He turned to Dan to see if Senator Cain’s words had made the same impression.
Dan was staring at the pocket doors, which were closed.
“Dan?”
No reaction.
“Is something wrong, Mr. Porter?” the senator asked.
Dan blinked, and he looked for all the world as if he was coming out of a dreamlike state. “When we were here last week, you said Al did you proud.”
Senator Cain nodded. “Yes. He was the carpenter who made those doors.”
“How did you find him?”
“I didn’t. A friend did.”
Gary stilled. “James Sebring.”
The senator frowned. “Who?”
“James Sebring. He was a carpenter whose coworkers called him Al as a joke, only it stuck. He died two years ago.”
Senator Cain’s breathing hitched. “Seriously? He couldn’t have been that old.”
“His death was declared an accident,” Gary informed him. “But we have our suspicions it was murder.”
The senator’s jaw dropped. “But why would anyone want to murder a carpenter?” He swallowed.
Dan was still staring at the doors.
“What is it that so fascinates you about them?”
Gary was starting to get the feeling something was going on, something he needed to know about.
Then Dan shivered. “Sorry. I must have zoned out.” He gave the senator his full attention. “You should have told us the truth, Senator.”
“I know, but surely you can understand why I didn’t.”
“Yes, I can.” He smiled. “And we’ll continue working to discover more of the truth.” Dan paused, casting one more glance toward the pocket doors.
What the hell is bugging me?
“Senator, would it be okay if I took another look at your art collection?”
Senator Cain frowned. “I don’t see how that would help you in your investigation.”
“At this moment, neither do I, but I’ve learned never to ignore my… hunches.” After all, getting inside that room again was the main reason for their visit—or it had been the previous evening.
The senator shrugged. He walked over to the right-hand door and pushed it open. “Then be my guest.”
Dan entered the darkened room. Senator Cain flicked the lights on, and Dan scanned the works of art.
Come on, you’ve got me this far. Show me why I’m here.
Gary joined him but said nothing. Dan stood in the middle of the room, opening himself up to whatever awaited him. When nothing occurred he walked slowly around the room, pausing at each work of art.
Nothing. Except….
A shiver trickled through him when he reached the fireplace. He froze, his breathing quickening, waiting for more.
Nothing.
Dan headed for the doorway, and as he reached the threshold, another shiver coursed through him, stronger than the first. He stilled, desperate to find whatever was causing such a reaction.
And then the feelings abated, leaving him calm again.
“You sensed something, didn’t you?” Gary murmured.
“Yes, but….”
This was getting them nowhere.
He glanced at Gary. “I think we’ve taken up enough of Senator Cain’s time.” He left the art room, Gary with him.
“You will let me know what you find out, won’t you?” the senator asked as he walked them to the door of the office.
Gary assured him they would. They thanked him and went downstairs. He glanced at Dan as they crossed the floor, heading for the main door.
“Something is wrong, isn’t it?”
“Not wrong, exactly. Just a feeling I can’t shake.”
“About the senator?”
Dan frowned. “I’m not sure.”
“Is that it? Are you finished?” Mrs. Cain emerged from a door to the left.
Gary wanted to tell her yes, but based on how the case had twisted and turned so far, he knew better. “For now.”
She opened the door. “Then I’ll bid you good day.” As soon as they stepped into the warm summer air, the door closed behind them.
They crunched across the gravel to the car, Dan still in a world of his own. Gary got behind the wheel.
“Okay, what’s this feeling you can’t shake?” He switched on the engine.
“I wish I knew.” Dan pulled his bag onto his lap and reached into it. When he removed one of Cheryl’s folders, Gary stared at it.
“Why did you bring that along?” he asked as they drove toward the road.
“Because they’re part of the mystery.” Dan opened the folder and removed a photo. “Especially this one.” He lapsed into silence, studying it.
When nothing else was forthcoming, Gary chuckled. “Well? Are you going to let me in on it too?” He took a right onto the road.
“Not yet,” Dan murmured. “There’s something I need to check on first.”
Gary’s phone rang, and he peered at the screen. “It’s Lori Dettweiler. Put it on hands free, will you?” When Dan did as instructed, Gary spoke loudly. “Lori, what can we do for you? You’re on speaker.”
“I don’t know if this will help, but I’ve remembered something.” There was an edge to her voice, an undercurrent of what sounded like excitement.
“Tell us.”
“The thing is… I had a phone call from Cheryl, August twenty-eighth, which must have been right around the time she disappeared.”
“How can you remember the date so exactly?” Dan asked.
“Okay, this will sound weird, but… I’ve been on a real decluttering jag lately.
So last night I was going through my books, trying to decide which ones to keep, like you do.
I have way too many books. Anyhow, I came across a children’s book I’d kept.
The Borrowers. It’s by an English writer, Mary Norton.
Anyway, she died August twenty-ninth, 1992, and that was the day after Cheryl called.
It was only seeing the book again that made me connect the two events. ”
“What did she say?” Gary’s skin prickled into goose bumps.
“I think it was something like… ‘I’ve found it. It’s been in plain sight all the time. I’m looking at it right now.’ Then the call ended. I tried to call her back, but there was no answer.”
“Do you have any idea what she was talking about?”
There was a pause. “Maybe? I wondered if she’d stumbled across something related to one of the stolen paintings.”
Gary and Dan glanced at each other. “What stolen paintings?” Gary was lost.
Lori gave a wry chuckle. “Are you sure you’re from Boston? I thought everyone knew about it. That heist rocked the art world.”
“From the Museum of Fine Arts?” Dan looked as confused as Gary felt.
“No. Okay, I’m not being clear, am I? Cheryl and I both worked at the Athenaeum. Remember I told you that?”
“Yeah, I remember,” Gary assured her.
“All right, then. After that, but before I came to work for the Museum of Fine Arts, both Cheryl and I were art conservationists at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston. I was there from 1991 to 1997. That was after the event.”
Something stirred in the deep recesses of Gary’s memory.
“Like I said, I don’t know if that will help you. But you know, thinking about that phone call, it was strange, the way it ended so abruptly….”
Beside him, Dan grabbed his phone, his thumbs flying over the screen, his breathing erratic.
Gary was beyond curious.
“Thanks, Lori. I’ll make a note of it. One last thing. Can you remember approximately what time she called?”
“It was early evening, that’s all I can say. I’d finished work at five, and I was home when she called.”
“Thanks.” They said goodbye, and she disconnected. “Well, that confirms Reynolds’s story. He was out on his date with Sonia at that time.” He glanced at Dan’s phone. “What are you googling?”
“Let’s call it a hunch.” Then he froze. “Stop the car. We need to go back.” His voice rang out.
“What?” Ice crawled over Gary’s skin.
“You heard me. Turn this car around. We have to go back to the house.”
“But why?”
Dan stared at him, his eyes huge. “Because he’s hiding something.”