AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Which de Haan stumbled over.”
“Yes. Unfortunately, de Haan tried to do the same thing I did last night—and also tripped the silent alarm. Quilletta trotted down there with her great-uncle’s trusty marble bookend and bashed him over the head when he was climbing out of the basement.”
Which turned out to be a lot more effective than the screaming and shooting engaged in by Chief Sandford. Granted, by then Sandford had been at his breaking point.
Welcome to the club.
“That part I know,” J.J. said. “And Chief Sandford had to help her again by moving the body because if the first crime was ever discovered, his involvement would be known and he’d be ruined.”
“That’s pretty much it.” And Jason was pretty much tired of the whole stupid, sordid scenario.
“It never was about the art?”
“No.”
“Why the hell didn’t she just admit she had the rest of the treasure? She could have cut a deal then and there. If she hadn’t lied, de Haan would never have started poking around—and then you wouldn’t have started poking around…”
“Greed, I guess. She thought she could hang on to her secrets and millions of dollars’ worth of art as well. Anyway.”
Jason closed the desk drawer. He was just stalling. Delaying the moment he had to say goodbye to Sam.
Maybe J.J. read his thoughts because he said, “I still don’t get why you’re in such a panic to leave. And why is Salt Lake’s ACT taking possession of the art we found? Why are we suddenly off this case? Why are you and Kennedy not speaking to each other?”
“We’re speaking to each other. I’m about to go tell him goodbye. As for the rest of it, don’t look a surprise three-day weekend in the mouth. You don’t have to be in LA until Tuesday, so take advantage of that.”
J.J. scowled. “You know, you’re not fooling me, West. You spent nearly two hours on the phone with George this morning and then another three hours with Kapszukiewicz.”
Jason couldn’t think of an answer.
“They’re not going to—no way are they going to can you after you found a goddamned Vermeer. Not to mention all those other paintings.” J.J. added uncertainly, “Are they?”
“I don’t know,” Jason admitted. “I hope not.”
He had never heard Karan raise her voice before, but he’d heard it plenty this morning. And George… George had even used the word disappointed; twice.
It hurt. A lot.
He hadn’t meant to say even that much. J.J. looked horrified. “Jesus Christ. Are you kidding? You’re not kidding?”
“I’m sure everything’s fine,” Jason lied. “And since I have to be in Washington on Monday morning—”
“Uh, it’s a shorter flight from here than L.A. You wouldn’t have to miss the party. Free booze and BBQ on a wraparound deck overlooking the Gallatin River.”
Yeah. Hosted bar notwithstanding, about the only thing Jason could picture enjoying less was being shot to death in Roy Thompson’s underground museum-slash-tomb.
“I’m reeeeeally not in a party mood,” he said.
J.J. studied him, said after a moment, “I told you he was an asshole. Many times I warned you.”
“Seriously. Don’t.”
J.J. shrugged. “See you…Tuesday?”
Jason nodded, his smile wry. “Bright and early.”
If only to clear out his desk.
Jason rapped on the doorframe of Sam’s temporary office.
