Rarities Unlimited 03 - Die in Plain Sight

thought. And when it came time for re-election, he’d back another candidate.”
    Her mouth dropped open and stayed that way. Then she reeled in her astonishment. “I can’t believe it.”
    “I can. You never knew your Grandfather Forrest real well, did you?”
    “I never thought about it.”
    “He was a very smart man and a natural politician. Charming to anyone who could do him some good. Hard as steel underneath the smile. He ran Moreno County with a clenched fist, both as sheriff and later as district attorney. Booted out some gambling gangsters and sent them to Las Vegas at a time when it was a real dangerous thing to do.”
    Bliss tried to imagine her grandfather running gangsters out of town. She couldn’t. When she’d known him, he was a spidery old man with nothing much better to do than sit in the sun with a cat in his lap.
    “I don’t imagine Theodore Forrest was much kinder to his son than Ward is to Savoy,” Rory continued. “The Forrests aren’t long on kindness, but if you want the job done, they’ll do it. And if they want the job done, you’d better do it or get the hell out of their way.”
    “Was your family like that?” Bliss asked, curious about Rory in a way she’d never been when she was younger.
    “Pretty much. Only poor, real poor. If your father hadn’t liked what he saw when I turned up looking for work at the ranch close to fortyago, I’d probably be someone’s hired man today instead of the sheriff of Moreno County and a member of the Savoy Ranch corporation board.”
    “But you’d risk getting Daddy mad at you to help me.”
    “Hell, Bliss, I’ve always loved you. I just can’t always live with you.”
    She laughed almost sadly. “Same here, darling. Damn, life can be a tricky bitch.”
    He held out his hand. “Come back to bed while we can still live with each other.”
    “Want something to eat first?”
    “Nope. How about you?”
    Smiling, she pushed back from the table. Before she could take his hand, his cell phone rang. He rummaged through the pile of clothes on the living room floor, found his belt, and looked at the number in the cell phone window.
    “Speak of the devil,” Rory muttered. He punched in the connect button. “Evening, Ward. Or should I say good morning?”
    At home, Ward laughed curtly and scratched Honey Bear’s silky ears. The dog groaned and all but slid to the floor in a puddle of pleasure.
    “Have you found January Marsh?” Ward asked.
    “Lots of people in the county and state with the last name of Marsh. No one called January or Jan or Janet or Jane or any other variant we could think of. No driver’s license in those names. No voter registration. No property taxes. No business license. No wants, warrants, parking tickets, fingerprints, telephone numbers. No birth certificate on file in any state, no tax records either state or federal. No social security number. Offhand, I’d say the lady doesn’t exist.”
    “Find her. I didn’t get you elected sheriff of Moreno County for the fun of it.”
    “I have someone watching the paintings. If anyone asks to see them, man or woman, they’ll be tagged and followed. We’ll find her.”
    “I want that painting, damn it!” As he spoke, Ward sank his fingers into Honey Bear’s thick fur. The dog stirred uneasily at the sudden pressure, then settled.
    “The auction is Saturday,” Rory said patiently. “If we don’t find her sooner, we will when she comes to pick up her art.”
    “Susa knows Ms. Marsh, or whatever the hell her name is. They’re going painting tomorrow.”
    Then why are you badgering me? But Rory knew better than to say that aloud. The old man wasn’t reasonable when it came to his damned paintings. He’d spend whatever it took and defy God, the devil, or the members of the board to stop him.
    “Will they be painting at the ranch?” Rory asked.
    “I don’t know. Probably.”
    “If ‘Ms. Marsh’ shows up tomorrow, I’ll have her real identity by dinner.”
    “How?”
    “Does it matter?” Rory asked evenly.
    Ward laughed and hung up.
    “What was that all about?” Bliss asked.
    “Your daddy has a bug up his ass about buying a painting.”
    Rory punched numbers on his cell phone. Talk about a waste of taxpayer money. On the other hand, one way or the other, the lion’s share of the county taxes were being paid by Ward Forrest.
    As soon as someone answered, Rory gave rapid-fire orders.

Newport Beach
    Early Thursday morning
20
    W hat’s