Chapter Sixteen
“Have you seen Fletcher?” Soledad asked, going up on her toes to search the attendees. “I want to congratulate him.”
According to the description placard next to the sculpture, Fletcher’s horse-head piece had been forged from spare horseshoes.
Though Sassy knew exactly how heavy the sculpture was, it looked weightless.
Its wavy mane floated back as if the horse was in midflight.
Fletcher had left the head and the eyes hollow, too, giving it a diaphanous look.
The silver gleamed under the accent lighting above its pedestal.
A Sold sticker had been placed on the placard. The horse had fetched a remarkable four-figure sum.
“I haven’t seen him, no,” Sassy said, glancing around.
The fundraiser was winding down. Members of Sassy’s family were helping to pack and move pieces that could be transferred easily to recipients’ vehicles.
She’d been so busy speaking to artists and winners, she hadn’t thought to look for the gallery’s newest artisan.
“I’d like to speak with him, too, before he leaves. ”
“Sassy,” Sherry said, arms opened wide as she approached. “This fundraiser was a runaway success. You did fantastic.”
“Thank you, Aunt Sherry,” Sassy replied, accepting the embrace. “But I can’t take all the credit. You’ve met my executive assistant, Soledad Yazzie. Without her, this wouldn’t have been possible.”
“Ms. Yazzie,” Sherry said, shaking Soledad’s small hand vigorously. “You and my niece are the dream team.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Colton,” Soledad returned. “The dream is working here. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Sassy exchanged a smile with her. Soledad definitely needed a raise. Without her wrangling Sassy’s march of ideas into something functional, this auction never would’ve gotten off the ground in the first place. She was the yin to Sassy’s yang and a consummate professional to boot.
“We’re proud of you,” Sassy’s father said, coming up behind her.
She turned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Thanks, Dad.”
He touched an affectionate kiss to her temple. “My girls stole the show tonight,” he said, plucking at her sleeve.
“This is all Mom,” Sassy noted, spreading her arms wide. “Where is she, by the way?”
“With the winner of her design,” Richie explained. “She wanted to make sure they understood the washing instructions and protocol for ceremonial use.”
“Ah,” Sassy said knowingly.
Nick rushed toward them, urgency written on his face. “Out of the way!”
The storeroom door banged open behind her, hitting the wall with a resounding thud. Guests who had lingered shrieked as a figure darted through the opening, running pell-mell for the exit.
“Fletcher!” Soledad cried out in surprise.
He didn’t acknowledge her. Instead, he barreled straight for Sassy, face flushed, sweat pearling at his temples.
“Sassy, down!” Nick called, making a dive for her.
She didn’t have time to react. Fletcher came at her like a heat-seeking missile. He shoved her roughly out of his way.
The force sent her colliding into the pedestal and the horse’s head balanced on top of it. She tumbled to the floor with it, unable to get her arms in front of her to catch her fall.
The floor didn’t cushion her. She turned her head in time to avoid driving her face into the marble tiles. The ball joint beneath her cheek absorbed the blow, the impact singing into her teeth.
People screamed. There were shouts of “Police!” “Freeze!” and “On the ground!” Boots slapped against the tiles in a cascade of running footfalls.
Someone cupped her head between their hands. “Sassy,” Nick said, kneeling over her.
“I’m okay,” she claimed.
“Are you sure?” he asked, helping her to a sitting position. Worry clouded his tawny lion irises.
She nodded. “Yeah.” Uniformed officers filed through. Their radios squawked as they parted what was left of the bystanders. Sassy gawked as two policemen led a struggling man in a dark hoodie and jeans from the storeroom. “What is going on?” she asked.
“We got him.”
Sassy whirled to find a DCPD detective with a badge hanging from his neck. She had seen him mixing with the partygoers, yet he’d lost his jacket and tie and the light in his eyes was grim. “Who?” she asked numbly.
“A drug dealer by the name of Rodrigo Kenton,” the detective explained. “He was wanted in connection with the shooting of our own Detective Hatch during an undercover operation two weeks ago.”
The same shooting Nick and his team had been responding to when he sprained his wrist? “What’s he doing here?” she wondered out loud, cradling her jaw.
“Someone left a pretty large cocaine drop for him in the crates in your storeroom,” the detective told her.
“What?” she exclaimed. “Who?” It clicked slowly.
Fletcher running out the storeroom. Fletcher barreling into her, sending her, the pedestal and the horse’s head crashing to the floor.
A commotion, a distraction, to aid in his escape.
Sassy’s gaze flew to Soledad, who was shaking her head listlessly.
“No,” she said, going an alarming shade of white. “No. No, no, no… Fletcher… He wouldn’t do something like that…”
“I’m sorry, Miss,” the detective said, moderating his tone to soften the blow. “We have the exchange on surveillance video, thanks in large part to Mr. Malone, who helped install hidden cameras throughout the place.”
Sassy revolved toward Nick. His mouth fumbled open on an explanation. It quickly fled, apparently, because his lips seamed shut and a guilty expression took hold as he confronted her questioning stare.
“This is true?” Sassy asked in an undertone. “You rigged the gallery with hidden cameras?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I gave the security firm permission to install them.” He hesitated before adding, “And I oversaw the installation. I coordinated with the firm and Detective Finbar here to set up the sting on Ryder.”
Soledad let out an involuntary sob. Sassy reached for her, bracing her arm around her waist, because she looked seconds away from crumbling. “How could you possibly know he was setting up a cocaine drop?”
“I wasn’t sure what he was doing,” Nick enumerated. “But I did suspect it was him who tried to break into the gallery.”
“How?” Sassy demanded to know.
“The bracelet,” he said. “You said it went missing from your office the day after your first security alert. The one you checked out alone. I told you it reappeared that night at the Bootleg at our table. There was no sign of forced entry at the gallery. I checked when we investigated the second security alert, which led me to believe that the thief had a key.” He seemed hardly able to bring himself to look Soledad in the face, but he made himself do so.
“I’m sorry, Sole. He probably lifted the key from your purse. ”
“Did he ever spend the night at your residence?” Detective Finbar asked.
Tears ran in rivulets down Soledad’s face. They dripped off her chin. Her eyes were huge, almost glassy as she nodded.
“He could have taken the keys while you were sleeping,” Finbar went on, “and made a copy so he could case the gallery as much as he needed to before the drop. Tonight’s fundraiser gave him the perfect opportunity to do so.
While the auction was taking place here on the gallery floor, Ryder made entry into the storeroom, disengaging the locked security door along the back alley.
That was how Kenton made entry. He would’ve exited through the back if we hadn’t had officers on standby.
Once Ryder saw them take down his partner, he made a run for it through the gallery and escaped onto the street. ”
“He wasn’t caught?” Nick asked incredulously.
“We’re conducting a search. We’ll bring him in,” Finbar said in all confidence. He cleared his throat. “Ms. Yazzie, would you mind coming to the station? We’d like to ask you some questions about your connection to Fletcher Ryder.”
“Must she?” Sherry asked, bracketing Soledad between her and Sassy in a protective hold. “She’s clearly distressed. I think it’s best she have a lie down.”
“You shouldn’t go home, Soledad,” Nick said. When everyone turned to frown at him, he added quickly, “If Ryder’s running, he could likely drop in on her place instead of his own. If he wants to get out of Dark Canyon, he’ll need supplies. We don’t know what he’s capable of.”
“Fletcher would never hurt me,” Soledad said brokenly. She looked to Sassy. “He wouldn’t.”
Sassy struggled to nod, rubbing her shoulder. Soledad was clearly in denial. “I know. But you can stay with me. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
Soledad blinked at her, unable to stem the flow of tears. Her breath hitched. “I didn’t know, Sassy. I swear. I can’t believe he would do any of these things. If it’s true, though, and he did… I promise I knew nothing of it. I would never hurt you or the gallery—”
Sassy ended the tumble of watery words by pulling Soledad into a hug. “I know,” she murmured. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Soledad’s sobs escalated until she was a shuddering mess in Sassy’s arms.
“Here, dear,” Bly said, turning Soledad to her. She dried her face on a handkerchief. “Let’s get you to the car. You can come home with me until Sassy’s done here. Okay?”
Soledad nodded, letting herself be led out between Sassy’s mother and father. Richie paused, leaning into Sassy to whisper, “Do you need me here? I’ll stay if you do.”
Sassy shook her head, knotting her arms across her chest. She dug her fingertips into the muscles of her upper arms. “I’ve got it.”
“You’re sure?” When she nodded affirmation, he pressed his brow to hers. “Call us if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she muttered and watched her parents and Soledad go. The police had escorted everyone out. A few lingered, like Chay, Jacob, several officers—and Nick.
Nick. Her jaw tightened. She winced when the movement tweaked her bruised cheek. He’d done this…all of this without her knowledge.
They were supposed to be starting over, making a fresh go at their friendship.