Chapter Three

 

Crossing her legs, Rob continued, “My partner has compiled a list of paintings missing from your walls. I’ll need a complete inventory of any other items that were taken. I assume you have a storage room?” she looked up.

 

“Yes, of course detective,” he crossed his arms and leaned more onto the desk. She had hazel eyes…  When was the last time he’d seen someone with true hazel eyes? Her lips were unpainted, which of course, just drew his eyes to them. She licked them and looked back down at her pad.

 

“When we are done here, you can show me. Let’s start with where you were last night between the hours of ten and four o’clock this morning.”

 

 

Two hours later, they walked downstairs and he lead Detective Rob Stanton to his store room.

 

Mark’s body had been removed, so all that was left of him was a large blood stain and white tape marking the spot where his body had laid. At this time, two of his employees had shown up and were being questioned by Detective Stanton’s partner.

 

Julie, his newest employee was quietly crying into a white tissue provided by the officer.

 

The storeroom’s heavy door had been kicked in and now hung on one hinge. They had dusted it for fingerprints and he could see the fine powder all over the surface.

 

As he walked beside the detective, he put a hand on her back trying to lead her away from the dusty door, she stopped and looked at him. Then looked at his hand and raised her eyebrows in question. He kept his hand in place and smiled back at her. This wasn’t a woman who wanted to be lead anywhere. He’d seen plenty of independent women in his time, but there was something else behind her eyes, it was almost as if she had to prove herself.

 

In total there had been eleven paintings and four sculptures stolen. Of those eleven paintings, seven had been Allison’s.

“Tell me more about Allison Adams,” Rob asked walking around the large storeroom. She walked over and placed her hand on the worn window sill. The window and locks were new but the old wood still showed signs of her life long ago. She ran her hand over the smooth surface and smiled to herself.  “You’re accounted for discovering her correct?”

 

“Yes, well it’s Allison Jordan now. And, Megan Jordan really did the discovering as you put it. Allison was one of my first local Oregon artists featured here in the Portland Spot.”

 

Rob turned away from the window and walked over to pick up a small painting of a naked man who was half horse, half man. She studied it and placed it back down. “Is her art one of the most expensive that you sell?”

 

“No, actually. That’s the puzzling part. I have paintings that are worth three times what hers go for and those weren’t touched. The sculptures were from another local artist as well. Diego Stephens, two of his pieces taken were fairly new. The other two sculptures were from a well known artist from Greece.” He watched her walk around the room putting notes in her pad. She was efficient, it seamed like nothing she did wasted time.

 

“Are you in any way romantically linked with any employee, or client?” she asked, stopping and looking directly at him.

 

He smiled a little, “Why Detective Stanton, are you trying to hit on me?” he had hoped to get a flush, or a quick denial, but what he got in return was ice. Her eyes went from a warm brandy, to a cold hazel in less than a second.

 

“Mr. Derby, maybe you don’t take what you do seriously, but around here,” she was pacing around the room, and he could tell she was on a roll. “I’m in charge of finding out who murdered one of your employees as well as stole several thousands of dollars worth of art. Now, if you…”

 

“Millions,” he interjected.

“Millions, what?” She asked and turned back towards him.

“Millions of dollars worth of art. Not thousands,” he smiled, noting her jaw had dropped a little.

 

“Mr. Derby, are you telling me that the eleven paintings and four sculptures that were stolen add up to a million dollars?”

“No Detective,” he walked closer to her, he told himself it was just to get a reaction from her. But, he backed her up until she was against the cupboards and counter-top. “I’m simply telling you, that of the eleven paintings and four sculptures that were stolen, several of the pieces were worth millions. The total of the fifteen pieces stolen would be in the range of eight point three million dollars. Eight point three million dollars of artwork which walked out of my gallery last night.” He smiled when he got the response he wanted from her. Irritation crossed her face and was quickly replaced with anger. He didn’t know why, but that pleased him.

 

“You want to back off now, Mr. Derby.”

“No, I don’t think I do, detective,” he reached over her head and flipped open a cupboard behind her. Then he punched in a code on a keypad that sat on the back wall. A hidden door to the right slid open silently.

 

Rob looked at him and then walked around him into a small dark room. It was no bigger than a broom closet, but it held four large screen monitors.

 

“Hiding something are you, Mr. Derby?” She walked over and scanned the screens.

 

Two displayed the front gallery, one faced the front door, the other faced away from the doorway. One screen showed his office and the another showed the back storeroom. She could see the other officers out front, still talking to his staff members.

 

“No Detective. I’m just showing the officer in charge what she needs to solve my case. You didn’t really think I wouldn’t have surveillance on a multi-billion-dollar business. Did you?” He smiled again when irritation crossed her face. Why it pleased him so much to see it, he didn’t know.

 

“Can I assume that everything is recorded?” She leaned her hip on the small desk and crossed her arms.

 

Ric smiled in response.

 

“Detective Stanton, get your skinny butt in my office now!” Sergeant Johns bellowed.

 

“You did it this time Stanton.” Detective Tom Thomas had been her partner for six years so she knew when he was joking and when he was serious. This was neither. She got the feeling something was up, but she wasn’t quite sure what.

 

Setting down her pen, she marched into the Sergeants office, prepared to defend herself no matter what the circumstances where.

 

“What’s up, Serge?” She walked into the office. Her appearance would have fooled anyone. On the outside, she appeared totally at ease. But, inside she had always dreaded when the Sergeant said those words. Sergeant Mike Johns was more than her Commander; he was the father she had always hoped for. He’d actually been her father for ten years now, whether he knew it or not.

 

“What’s up Serge? What’s up Serge?” he mimicked her. “I’ll tell you what’s up,” he walked over and yanked back the blinds on the windows that faced the bull pen. Rob looked over as every officer in her department stood on the other side of the glass. Tom had a large cake in his hands with ten lit candles. Everyone had large smiles on their faces and screamed, “Happy Birthday, Rob.”

 

The sergeant walked over and gave his honorary daughter a kiss on the head and patted her arm.

 

“What? What is all this?” she stood up straight and looked into his eyes.

 

“You didn’t think we’d forget did you?”

 

Rob knew everyone in the whole Portland police department knew where she had come from. It was heart warming to know how everyone had pooled together to surprise her, she felt proud to be part of something so great.

 

Today wasn’t really her birthday, but she had never really told anyone her actual birth date, and she wasn’t too sure of the actual date herself. After starting her new life, she had to apply for simple things like social security cards, drivers license and so on. It had taken the sergeant a few months to pull the strings he’d needed to get new documents for her. None of them were the originals, but then it hadn’t really mattered to her.

 

The sergeant had always celebrated the day on the anniversary of the shooting. She viewed this as a renewal birthday of some sorts anyway. So she’d gone along with it.

 

After all, she’d started fresh ten years ago and as she looked out at the faces across the glass, she realized she actually felt like part of a family again. Who needed a real family? When she had these goofy people who were currently eye-balling the triple layered chocolate cake like it was a gift sent from the heavens.

 

“Don’t pull this shit on me sir. You know this is just another of your excuses to eat cake.” She turned and saw the smile creep across his face. “Didn’t your doctor say you can’t eat anything high in sugars?” She walked over and quickly blew out the candles to loud cheers.

 

John’s gave her a dirty look and said something even dirty under his breath. “But, I guess one small piece won’t hurt. That is, since it is a special occasion. Ten years of putting up with you that is…” Everyone broke out laughing.

 

There must be a party going on. Ric thought as he walked into an empty lobby at the police department. He held the DVD copies of surveillance tapes, since the feed was live and uploaded via internet to a security firm in Dallas, he had to get them sent over-night. They had been delivered, less than half-hour ago, so he figured instead of having them couriered over to the department, he would deliver them himself. And he had an excuse to see the detective again.

 

There was a large woman sitting in the lobby, she was reading a book and didn’t even bother to look up when he walked in. A long hall lead towards the back of the building and he saw an older cop walking towards him with a large piece of cake in his hands. Ric met him halfway down the hallway. “I’m looking for Detective Rob Stanton.”

The man looked at him and grunted. “Down the hall, can’t miss her.” He continued on his way, eating the cake.

 

Ric watched the man disappear towards the front, then he turned and walked into a large room. There were desks in rows all over the room, and towards the back a series of glass offices. There must have been about thirty cops standing around, all with their backs towards him, cheering. Then one large cop moved aside and there she was. She was being kissed by an even larger cop. Then, he noticed that she was smiling.

 

He’d thought she’d been pretty before, but when she smiled she was… well… radiant. He smiled in return and he didn’t even know why. Just then she looked over and caught sight of him and her smile disappeared quickly and the warmth was replaced with ice.

 

He nodded, and kept smiling. He walked towards her and she met him half-way across the room.

“Mr. Derby, how can the Portland Police help you today?” her voice was smooth and in control.

 

“Detective,” he continued to smile at her. She wore a burgundy short sleeve shirt today with black slacks that were very appealing. She had boots on again, this time with a little taller heel, and he noted, silver stud earrings. The gold ring still sat on her right finger.

 

“Can I help you?” she asked again, this time a little more impatient.

 

“Can we talk somewhere?” he nodded holding up the DVD’s.

 

Rob looked at them, “Sure, follow me,” she walked down another hallway and into one of the interrogation rooms which had a TV and DVD player.

 

“Have you checked these out?” she asked, putting in the first DVD.

 

“Yes,” he said.

 

She switched the lights lower and pulled up two chairs.