Rarities Unlimited 03 - Die in Plain Sight

suppose either of you ladies put some of your paintings under the bed or anything?”
    “No,” Susa said.
    “Same here,” Lacey said.
    That didn’t surprise him, either. He muttered something foul under his breath.
    “Excuse me?” Lacey said, her eyes wide.
    “Check your closets” was all he said.
    A few moments later, both women confirmed what he already knew: seven paintings were missing. Four of Susa’s, plus the paintings that had belonged to Lacey’s grandfather.
    “Okay, here’s the drill,” he said. “We’re going to the restaurant.”
    “What?” Lacey said in disbelief. “Our paintings are gone and you want us to eat dinner ?”
    “I want both of you out of here and in a public place. The hottest new restaurant in town is about as public as it gets.”
    Lacey and Susa looked at each other, shrugged, and headed for the door.
    “I think we’ve just been sent to the sandbox,” Lacey said.
    “At least this sandbox has a good wine list,” Susa said.
    Ian followed them out the door. As he walked down the hall, he pulled out his cell phone and did what he really hated to do when he was on a job. He called the cops. In the unincorporated resort community of Painter’s Beach, that meant Rory Turner.
    Turner picked up his private number after only two rings. “What?”
    “Ian Lapstrake, Sheriff. Several million bucks worth of Susa’s paintings have gone missing on your watch.”
    “Christ. Anybody hurt?”
    “No. We were at the ranch when the theft occurred.”
    “Thank God for small favors. When did you leave the hotel to go to the ranch?”
    “About two,” Ian said.
    “Have you told the desk?”
    “No. Most robberies like this are inside jobs.”
    “Ain’t it the damned truth. I’ll be there in fifteen. After I get the security tapes and duty roster, I’ll come up.”
    “I’ll meet you at the front desk,” Ian said, stepping into the elevator that had just arrived. “I’m reviewing the tapes with you.”
    “You trying to say you don’t trust me?”
    “Trust you? Sheriff, I don’t know you well enough to exchange Christmas cards.”
    Rory laughed. “Do I need to tell you not to touch anything?”
    “What do you think?”
    “I’ll see you at the front desk in fifteen minutes. And send the ladies down to the restaurant or something so they won’t get in the way of my crime scene technicians.”
    Ian’s eyes narrowed. Paranoia quivered. Probably totally unnecessary, but there was always the long shot that made everyone cry. “The women aren’t leaving my sight.”
    He cut the connection and called Rarities. He was put through to S. K. Niall very quickly. As head of Security, Niall was technically Ian’s boss, except when Dana stepped in and preempted him for one of her pet projects. When Niall answered, Ian didn’t try to put lipstick on the pig before he shoved it into the spotlight.
    “I fucked up,” Ian said. “Susa’s paintings are gone.”
    “Bullshit,” Susa said loud enough to carry into the cell phone. “It’s not your fault. I’m the one who insisted on leaving the damn things in the room.”
    “Sounds like Susa’s intact,” Niall said. “No damage to her?”
    “Underneath her gracious manner,” Ian said, “she’s mad enough to eat steel plate. Otherwise she’s fine.”
    “Then you didn’t fuck up.”
    Ian said something fully suited to his mood.
    Niall ignored it. “You need backup?”
    “To help nail shut the barn door? No, I think I can handle that all by myself.”
    “Ease up, boyo. If the Donovan had wanted a lock on the paintings, he’d have asked for two of you. He knows his wife. Now quit feeling sorry for yourself and put her on. She can describe the paintings to me and I’ll send out the word right away. We’ll get the bastard when he tries to unload them.”
    “Always assuming it wasn’t a commissioned theft, in which case they’ll never hit the market.” With that cheerful thought, Ian handed the phone to Susa. “Say hello to S. K. Niall. Describe missing pictures to him. Pray for the good guys.”
    Susa picked up the phone. “It wasn’t Ian’s fault.”
    “You know it. I know it. When he gets over his temper, he’ll know it. I’m turning on a recorder. Describe what was stolen.”
    Susa started talking.

Savoy Hotel
    Friday night
36
    R ory Turner walked into the lobby with long, impatient strides. He was dressed in casual clothes except for the badge holder hanging out of his pocket and the weapon harness