“Never,” Kate and Sam said at the same time.
“She was nervous,” Sam said. “Because of what happened when she was a kid. At the gallery.”
“Did she talk about that?” he asked.
“Not a lot,” Sam said. “But she taught me to be careful. It sucked big-time, the worst nightmare, what happened to her and Aunt Kate and their mother. Also, the art collection—it’s valuable. She didn’t even want to keep the paintings in the house.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Well, because robbers would want them. She thought they would be safer in the gallery—and that we would be safer, too, because the art wouldn’t be a magnet for criminals,” Sam said.
“So why were they in your house? If she didn’t think they should be there?”
“My brother-in-law overruled her,” Kate said, remembering how she’d tried to get Beth to stand up for herself, insist on what she wanted.
“One of the paintings was cut out of its frame,” Conor said. “In the bedroom.”
“Really? Which one?” Kate asked.
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
“I didn’t notice anything in that room,” she said. “Except Beth.”
“Of course,” Conor said.
“Obviously Mom was right, then,” Sam said, her mouth twisting. “About the paintings being safer at the gallery.”
“Because one was cut from the frame?” Conor asked.
“Not just this time. What I meant was, a painting almost got stolen last year.” She paused. “Exactly a year ago—around the time I went to camp last summer.”
Kate felt stunned. Beth hadn’t said a word about it. How could she have kept something so critical from her?
“Your mom never told me,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
“You were probably flying. She had Mrs. Waterston for things like that,” Sam said.
“Things like what?” Kate asked, unable to believe what she was hearing.
“I don’t know,” Sam said. “The stuff that happens at home. You’re an important pilot. Mom and Mrs. Waterston had lots of time on the beach to talk about problems. Besides, the painting thing wound up being a lot of worry for nothing.”
Kate was reeling and couldn’t speak.
“Sam, I didn’t see any police reports about a painting stolen from your house last year,” the detective said.
“Because we didn’t report it,” she said.
“Why?” Kate asked.
Sam frowned and shrugged. “It just wasn’t a big deal.”
“Sam! It absolutely was—is—a big deal. Tell me ...”
“I saidalmoststolen,” Sam said, her voice rising and face reddening. “It was really bizarre. It turned out the robbers left it behind—they must have gotten spooked or something. We just didn’t find it for a while. Mom found it shoved into the hall closet, behind the rain boots and umbrellas. She hung it right back up in their bedroom.”
Kate felt pins and needles in her face and hands.It couldn’t be.
“Which wall?” Conor asked.
