Rarities Unlimited 03 - Die in Plain Sight

sheriff. Plus whoever the sheriff talked to—the Forrests, for instance.”
    He made quick notes and put a check next to the names that could have known where Lacey and the paintings went.
    “You forgot Susa.”
    Ian blinked.
    “Susa was alone the night the fire started and she knew where the paintings were.” Lacey made a disgusted sound. “But she was no more likely to burn down my shop than I was. She’s connected to those paintings as deeply as most people connect to a lover.”
    “But I like the way you’re thinking,” Ian said.
    “Huh?”
    “Mean. Low. Sneaky. Cold. Like a cop.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “No-holds-barred. It’s how you survive.”
    He put a check next to Susa’s name.
    And his own.
    “Okay,” she said. “Everyone with the check knew who I was and where the paintings were, and therefore could have set a fire to destroy the paintings. But why?”
    “Let’s stay with the ‘who’ for a while longer. Who knew the paintings survived the fire and were taken to the Savoy Hotel? Remember, the theft occurred barely twelve hours after the fire.”
    “You, me, Susa, the Newport Beach Fire and Police Departments—”
    “Which means Rory Turner could have found out real fast,” Ian interrupted. “If he knew, then we’re back to the same group we had before the fire.”
    “How do we find out if he knew?”
    “Savoy Forrest wants your paintings. The Forrests got Turner elected. Take it as a given that the sheriff quizzed the NBPD. What they know, he knows. What he knows, the Forrests know.”
    More check marks went on the list of names.
    “Who besides the sheriff and the employees had access to the hotel security system?” Lacey asked.
    Ian didn’t answer. He just put check marks next to the sheriff and the security employees.
    “What about the Forrests?” she asked. “If Rory Turner is in bed with the Forrests, then they could have access, couldn’t they?”
    “Maybe, but whoever the thief was had more than access. He also knew the security system inside and out. Remember, the fake bellman never showed anything useful to the cameras.”
    Lacey looked at all the marks and names. If they were making any progress, she didn’t see it, and they hadn’t even gotten to motive. “How come whoever it was—or they were—didn’t just clean out my storage unit after I brought three more pictures out?”
    “Because I dumped the tail before we got to the storage unit, so no one but us knew where it was. But I didn’t dump the deputies when we went back the second time.”
    She shivered. “You really think it’s the sheriff, don’t you?”
    “You have a better suspect?”
    “But why? If it’s the money, then burning the paintings isn’t going to make the sheriff any richer. If it isn’t the money, what is it? Even if you assume that the paintings portrayed real murders, I don’t think the sheriff was out of grammar school when the first two took place, so why would he care?”
    “Damned if I know. But I plan on asking him.”
    Lacey raked her fingers through her loose curls. “This is crazy. How would the sheriff know we’ve been going to galleries? We weren’t followed, were we?”
    “Not as far as I could tell.”
    “Then how would he know to call you and leave his cheerful little threat?”
    “That’s the second question I’m going to ask him.”
    Lacey stared at the sketch pad, then threw it on the floor in disgust. “We don’t have shit and you know it.”
    “We don’t have roses,” he corrected. “Shit we’ve got plenty of.”
    “What we’ve got are paintings some people want enough to steal, some want enough to buy in the open, some want to sell on the quiet, and some want to destroy outright.” She threw up her hands. “Maybe my shop was really an accident, just one of those coincidences. Then the motive for the rest of it is simple. Good old greed.”
    “That would make it easier.”
    “So you think I’m right?”
    “I think there are enough hanging threads on that theory to knit a whole new sweater.”
    “So do I.” She leaned back against the couch and swiped hair out of her eyes. “Now what? And don’t say we go over the names again. Each time we do, we end up knowing less. Pretty soon we’re going to be suspecting ourselves.”
    Ian slid one arm around Lacey’s shoulders and the other under her knees. Before she could blink she was in his lap. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said.
    Smiling, she nuzzled against his