Fired Up

The pair had a talent for “discovering” vintage original film clips that had been lost since the 1930s. Their daughters, Rhonda and Alison, were true artists: Rhonda produced an unlimited number of “original” posters; Alison forged the stars’ signatures.
    Beatrice went to others in the family for the cigarette lighters or the odd piece of furniture that had belonged to William Holden or Gloria Swanson. The reproductions were so good they could pass for the real thing. So that’s what Beatrice did. The arrangement worked well for everyone concerned.
    Chloe studied her notes. “The last probable owner of the lamp is Drake Stone. All indications are that he still owns it.”
    “You’re kidding.” Rose opened the pizza box. “Are you talking about that old rocker Drake Stone?”
    “Right.”
    Rose removed a slice of the vegetarian pizza and gave it to Hector. “I didn’t realize he was still alive.”
    “There may be some room for debate on the subject.” Chloe helped herself to a slice from the box. “After all, he lives in Las Vegas. Still performs six nights a week, two shows a night. You know what they say, old stars never die; they just go to Vegas.”
    “Huh.” Rose slid a slice of pizza onto a napkin. Her blue eyes, heavily outlined in black, seemed to soften. “I remember my Mom used to like Drake Stone. There was this one song she loved. Played it over and over when I was a kid.”
    Chloe tried to conceal her surprise. Rose rarely talked about her childhood, which had come to a shattering end the night her parents were murdered. She had been fifteen, and she was the one who had found the bodies. She had gone to live with her aunt, a divorced mother already struggling with two kids. The aunt had tried to do what she saw as her duty, but a third mouth, especially one that belonged to a traumatized teenager, had not been welcome. There had not been enough love and affection to go around, let alone money.
    Rose had bailed a few months later, having concluded that the streets were friendlier than her aunt’s home. She had managed to survive nearly six months out in the cold, relying on shelters and her natural intuitive talents, before she fetched up at Harper Investigations. Chloe had found her in the same place she later discovered Hector: scrounging out of the garbage containers in the alley.
    “By any chance was the name of your mother’s favorite song ‘Blue Champagne’?” Chloe asked.
    “Yeah, that’s it.” Rose brightened. She hummed a few bars. “How did you know?”
    Chloe tapped the computer screen. “According to my research it was Stone’s first and only real megahit. That was over thirty years ago. But it was enough to make him famous. It’s his signature song. He still does it at every performance. Evidently the women in the audience still line up for a kiss after the show.”
    Rose rolled her raccoon eyes. “I’ll bet he’s really sick of singing it.”
    “Probably. At any rate, I just talked to Uncle Edward in Vegas. He confirmed that he thinks Stone has an old lamp matching the rather vague description Winters gave me, or at least he did at one time. I’m going to consult with Aunt Phyllis tomorrow.”
    “Your uncle in Vegas is the one who sells the high-end antique furniture, right?”
    “Uncle Edward is the go- to dealer for antiques in Vegas and the whole Southwest. He supplied a lot of the furnishings that Drake Stone’s interior designer used in Stone’s mansion. When Stone acquired the lamp last year he evidently asked Edward to take a look at it to verify its authenticity. But my uncle told me that he never got the chance to inspect it.”
    Rose fed another bite of pizza to Hector. “Why not?”
    “Because Stone changed his mind. He told Uncle Edward that after he received the lamp he could see right away that it was a modern piece. But Uncle Edward isn’t so sure. Harper intuition. At any rate, he told me that if anyone could arrange for me to meet with Stone, it would be Aunt Phyllis.”
    “Bet your new client is thrilled with the news that you’ve located his lamp.”
    “I haven’t informed Mr. Winters of my progress yet,” Chloe said. She took a bite of the pizza.
    “I thought he was in a big rush to find that lamp.”
    “He is. But I want to be sure it’s the real deal. I hate to say it, but when you’re dealing with a legendary artifact you have to consider the possibility that you’ve got a fake.”
    Rose grinned. “You mean