Chapter Four

 

The surveillance footage was queued to Thursday night at eleven fifteen pm. She leaned over and hit the start button.

 

About thirty seconds later, Mark Walker walked in the front door using his keys. Then he reset the alarm and paced the floor for a few minutes. She noticed that he hadn’t turned on any lights. The camera must have an inferred night-mode.

 

Then three large men approached the front door and Mark let them in. They stood in the gallery and argued for a few minutes before one of the men, a bald, large man pulled a gun from his jacket pocket and, to the shock of his companions, shot Mark in the chest. Mark hit the floor, no movement, no twitching, no gasping for a last breath.

 

The three men argued some more, the bald man waving the gun in the direction of the other two men. Then it appeared they had all agreed.

 

When they got to work, the bald man walked over and pointed to the pieces he wanted. While his companions, a large Mexican and a thin dark haired man, collected the art, he walked to the back room.

 

He could be seen on the other screen kicking in the storeroom door and more quickly now, pulling the two pieces that were taken from there. He walked over and placed his palm on the brick wall next to the window. He opened the blinds and stood there for a minute with his hand raised as if he was signaling someone. Then he turned and walked back to the front room where the three men walked up the stairs together. They could be seen on the next camera pulling the desk drawers out of Ric’s desk, throwing them across the room. One man slammed the easel against the wall, and the other toppled the chairs.

 

The bald man sat in Ric’s chair and looked through his paperwork. What were they looking for? Then one of the others walked over and yanked the fairy picture back and pointed to the safe. The bald man argued with the others for another minute, and they left, the bald one closed the painting and walked out. They loaded up the art and closed the door behind them. The room sat dark, with Mark’s body lying on the wood floor.

 

“I think you can file this one as an inside job.” Ric said when Rob turned on the lights.

 

“What were they searching for?” she asked, sitting back down and turning towards him.

 

She noticed that he was in a dark gray suit today, and he wore his standard blue tie which was a darker shade of blue today. She had pulled his file, what file there was on the man. It appears that he was squeaky clean. He ran his business, paid his taxes, dated models, or actresses, no police record, not even a speeding ticket on file in Oregon or California. Rob didn’t like it, or him.

 

He had come into her office today smiling. She hated it when he smiled. He had perfect teeth, a perfect smile, and a perfect body to go with the package.

 

“How should I know?” he leaned back in his chair and watched her put on her police mask. He could tell her eyes were raking him up and down and thought he saw a hint of attraction once or twice.

 

Her face now was blank of emotion, her eyes were cold, and he could just see the wheels turning.

“Do you know any of those men besides Mr. Walker?” she tilted her head slightly.

 

“No, nor have I seen them in the gallery. I’ve been spending the last couple of months in my LA offices, and have just recently arrived in town.”

“Do you know why they didn’t break into your safe?”

 

“Maybe because it’s the latest and best safe on the market?” Ric leaned forward a little.

“Oh please, I could crack it in under five minutes. Try again.” She leaned back and smiled when his eye brow shoot up. “I haven’t always been a cop you know.”

 

“You know, Detective, I believe you could open my safe in under five minutes. You asked for a list of items not taken.” He pulled out a folder from the briefcase he had set down. “This is a dummy safe. No items of value were in there, and from the looks of the tape, the bald man knew it. How would he know it? Mark Walker didn’t even know it. In fact the only two people who knew it was a dummy safe is myself and my old assistant, Rita Barns, who past away six months ago.”

 

Rob looked over the list he’d given her. One thing you could say about Ric Derby, he was thorough. Not only did the file consist of a list, but pictures of the paintings and sculptures. There was a neatly typed page titled, Items in safe at The Blue Spot, Portland Offices.

 

“If this is a dummy safe, what is this list?” Rob held up the paper.

 

“I said that the safe behind the Fairy painting was a dummy safe, that doesn’t mean there isn’t a real safe in the building.” He smiled a little.

 

“I’m intrigued,” she leaned a little more towards him and looked him directly in the eyes. He could tell she was trying to gauge him.

 

He continued without faltering, a small smile formed on his lips.

“Is it your birthday?” He broke the silence.

 

She blinked and leaned back. “No,” she looked back down at the list.

 

“Celebrating then?” He noticed her scent, subtle and fresh. He wanted to lean in for a closer smell…

 

Looking back up, her eyes met his. “It’s a pseudo birthday. I’d like another look at your place.” She said, without emotion.

 

“Can’t stand it, can you?” He leaned back now and watched the irritation cross her eyes again.

“What?” She stood and walked over to collect the DVD’s.

 

“Not knowing where the safe is,” he also stood and walked closer to her.

 

“Mr. Derby, this is an official police matter, I would simply like to get more…” she broke off. He was smiling at her, no, he wasn’t just smiling, he was grinning like a damn kid, he was having so much fun. “Fine! Yes, it’s driving me crazy.” She admitted.

 

“Good, shall we then?” He walked out the door after her.

 

“I have a few loose ends to tie up here first.” She sighed as they looked across the room at the large group of cops still huddled around the quickly diminishing cake.

 

In a dark car with tinted windows, a dark man sat, waiting, and watching.

 

Not everything had gone according to his plan. That brat Mark Walker had not done his job. He had been assured that everything would be in place, and when it hadn’t been, Kenny had taken matters into his own hands. He couldn’t blame the man, the plan had been to get rid of the kid all along.

 

Now, he had to re-think everything, he was used to getting what he wanted, whenever he wanted it. He might just have to take matters into his own hands, he hated getting his hands dirty. Ric Derby had crossed a line and he needed to prove to the man that no one messed with him or his family.

 

Looking across the street he watched an old Oldsmobile pull up in front of the brick building. When he saw the woman emerge from the driver side, he figured it wouldn’t be so bad to get his hands dirty after all.

 

Rob had a large file sitting beside her in her car as she drove to the gallery. Most of it was filled with images and information on Ric Derby. She’d gone through every news article she could get her hands on to learn more about him, and she’d quickly marked him off her main list of suspects. The robbery footage was just the icing of proof she needed. Did she think he had anything to do with the theft and murder? No. It was more than her gut that told her that, too. That didn’t mean she’d ruled him out completely, his name was still on her backup list.

 

She couldn’t help noticing all the beautiful women he’d had draped over his arm in most of the photos. It appeared he never held on to them for long though. The only woman she’d seen him with more than once was Allison Jordan. There had been a dozen or so shots of them clinging to each other. Rob didn’t even know if he was still in a relationship with the model quality woman who was married. She knew the woman was almost the same height as Ric, blonde, beautiful, and the pair had looked like a modern day Ken and Barbie. Jealousy wasn’t usually an emotion she felt, she didn’t like feeling the slight twinge she had gotten when she looked at the woman on Ric’s arm.

 

She’d been running late, and she knew she shouldn’t have planned to swing by the gallery tonight. But, she could never really pass up a challenge, and she saw Mr. Derby as just that.

 

She’d seen the spark in his eyes, pure, simple attraction. She had never been one to deny herself, as long as it didn’t interfere with her job and Ric Derby would interfere with her current job. She needed to keep her focus on his quaint little shop and not his tight little butt.

 

When she stepped into the old building, memories flashed like pictures in her mind. She saw herself; jimmy the back window open with her pocket knife bent over the small safe, and curled up sick with the flu in the corner with nothing but a light jacket and a can of beans. This place had too many memories for her liking. She felt a shiver run down her spine, quickly straightening it, she walked all the way in the doors.

 

Ric had been watching the detective. Her eyes had been glazed when she had first stepped in, then a shiver ran down her and he could see the cop mask being pulled down. Taking his time, he made his way over to where she stood looking at a large portrait, painted by another local artist.

 

“See anything you like?” he asked easily. He noticed she hadn’t changed and her shirt now had a dark stain on the front.

 

She tilted her head to the left a little. “Is this what I think it is?” she asked looking deeper at the painting.

 

Ric smiled, “Depends on what you think it is…”

 

She turned away quickly and looked up at him. He had a great smile and she felt herself being pulled in.

 

“Mr. Derby, you do know that this…” she pointed towards the painting in question, “Is illegal in several states, and here you have it up on your walls for everyone to see.”

 

Ric laughed, “Detective, it’s just a painting. The viewer sees what they want to see. I see a large maple tree myself. Maybe you should tell me exactly what it is that you see?” he tilted his head to the left a little, mimicking her move.

 

“Never mind,” she said, quickly moving to the next picture. “You were going to show me around?” She hinted when he laughed at her again. She loathed and liked his smile, he had a care-free way about him. She knew all too well, men like him could get what they wanted, when they wanted it, which was all the more reason for her to keep it professional.

 

“I believe what you wanted to see is back here,” he put his hand lightly on her back and walked her towards the stairs.

 

“I don’t believe it.” She stood over the hole, looking down at a thing of beauty. “I never thought I would see one of these in my life.” She bent down and ran her fingers lightly over the cold metal.

 

The Brown safe was a thing of wonder. She’d only seen two others in her whole life, but had never been able to touch one until now. Looking back up at Ric, she ran her fingers over the metal again.

 

“May I?”

 

He smiled, “If you think you can,” he stood with his back propped against the bathroom stall. She was just so official and he could see a blush seeping into her cheeks. He knew she was more excited about his safe than she led on.

 

He’d done a little research on his detective, and it appears that Rob, Roberta Stanton had been a little hell-raiser in her youth. However, on her eighteenth birthday, she’d enrolled in the Portland Police Academy and less than two years later had been promoted to Detective. Not only impressive for an officer at her age, but it appeared she was the youngest Detective in the history of Oregon.

Now he watched her as she took a deep breath, and leaned down to try to break into his safe.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Ric and Roberta walked out of the men’s restroom, laughing.

 

“That’s why I bought a Brown Safe,” he stopped at the base of the stairs. “and another reason I put it where it is.” He smiled at her.

 

“I can assure you that with my expertise, I would have never thought to look for that, in there.” She smiled, enjoying the way he looked a little more relaxed. This was the first time she saw him so, and it had only added to his appeal.

 

“If you don’t think outside the box, how are you suppose to protect what’s yours?”

 

She got the feeling he was talking about more than his safe when he said that, and wanted to take a step back, but she held her ground.

 

“Would you care for some tea?” He nodded towards his office.

 

Looking down at her watch she said, “I can’t, actually, I’m already late,” she took a step backwards now, “Thank you for showing me, well, everything.” She smiled and backed away further.

 

“How about lunch?” he asked casually.

 

She stopped and looked at him, hard. He looked relaxed, standing in the lobby of his multimillion dollar art store and he was asking an ex-thief out. Did he know? Would he care?

 

“Can’t, you’re a case. See you later.” She didn’t give him a chance to reply as she quickly walked out. She needed to get out of there, away from his infectious smile.

 

He enjoyed watching her walk out of his place. The woman kept amazing him. He enjoyed discovering new things about her, each time they met. And he was looking forward to learning even more.