Rarities Unlimited 03 - Die in Plain Sight

reliable.”
    “I was told by Savoy Forrest that his father collected a certain painter, yet not one of that artist’s paintings is listed in the records of the suit,” Lacey said.
    “Doesn’t surprise me. Slippery bastard.”
    “Savoy Forrest?” Ian asked.
    “All of them.” A red flush stained Pickford’s cheeks. “Not an honest man in the family, by birth or by marriage. Crooks. Not that you’ll ever prove it. They own the law in Moreno County and most of the goddamned state.”
    “Frustrating,” Ian said.
    “As hell.” Pickford blew out a breath. “As for your paintings, they probably were acquired by Savoy Enterprises for the family gallery with the stipulation that the paintings pass to the museum as soon as the old bastard dies. Technically, though paid for with corporate funds, they’re not part of the museum collection at all.”
    “Is this, um, family collection on view anywhere?” Lacey asked.
    “Technically, yes.”
    “Meaning?” Ian asked.
    “The paintings are at the ranch. You have to be invited to see them. I’ve never met anyone who was.”
    Lacey’s smile was all teeth. “You just have.”

Savoy Ranch
    Late Tuesday afternoon
67
    T he guard at the south gate had seen Ian and Lacey before. He checked off their names and opened the guardhouse window. Rain lashed in.
    “’Evening,” he said. “Mr. Forrest isn’t back from the club yet, but the housekeeper is expecting you.”
    “Which Mr. Forrest?” Ian asked, ignoring the rain coming in through his own open window.
    “Ward. He left here about an hour ago. Were you expecting his son?”
    “That’s who we talked to.”
    “Then I’m sure he’ll be along soon.”
    Lacey leaned across Ian to look at the guard. She didn’t have to lean far. Though there were only two people in the front seat, she’d slid over to sit thigh to thigh with Ian.
    “We didn’t drive all the way out here because we like sight-seeing in the rain,” she said to the guard. “We were told that we would be able tosee the Forrest family art collection. Did either Mr. Forrest say when he’d be back?”
    “No, but I’m sure the housekeeper knows.”
    Lacey started to object.
    The guard kept talking. “Drive slow and watch the road where it climbs up the side of the canyon onto the bluff top. Ward told me the bluff was losing some stones with all the rain.”
    Ian ran up the window and drove onto ranch land. The windshield wipers worked hard to keep up with the rain. Muddy water washed from the high side of the asphalt to the low and gathered in puddles everywhere. Though sealed, it still wasn’t much of a road.
    Lacey grabbed the dashboard. “The guard isn’t really needed. These bumps could knock you cold. How far is the house?”
    “Couple miles.”
    She looked at the water-slicked, storm-stripped sycamores growing up from the dry riverbed to their left. “No wonder the road’s coming apart. Rain like this sent Noah running to his workshop. Wonder if the riverbed will stay dry.”
    “It’s a long way from the mountains.”
    “And that matters how?”
    “Runoff.”
    Lacey glanced at Ian. She didn’t need his terse conversation to tell her that he was in a bad mood. “Is this a general or a specific mad?”
    He cut a sideways look at her, downshifted, and gave his attention back to the road. “General.”
    In the heavy rain, the truck’s headlights made little more than a vague blur on the dark pavement. The tires bit through the water and occasional skim of mud without slipping. Even so, Ian stopped, put the truck in neutral, and switched into four-wheel drive. Better to do it now than stall out in mud on the side of a hill later.
    “You want to talk about your general mad?” she asked.
    Ian reached for the four-wheel drive gearshift on the floor and let out the clutch. The old truck groaned and took the road like a great turtle—slow but sure.
    “We’ve talked about it,” he said.
    “And our conclusion was…?”
    “We’re fucked.”
    “Did we enjoy it?” she shot back.
    Despite his mood, Ian smiled. “We sure did.”
    The road narrowed to one lane with occasional turnouts so two vehicles could get past each other. It didn’t follow the dry streambed. Instead, the road snaked alongside the bluff that rose on the north side. The rain lifted for a moment, then poured down with renewed enthusiasm. Somewhere to the west there must have been an opening in the clouds, because sun stabbed through the rain in rich