St Kilda Consulting 04 - Blue Smoke and Murder

car is on a rental agency’s computer, which sure can be hacked. Faroe’s checking to see if the rental has alocater unit aboard. This close to the border, it’s pretty common.”
    “I…” Her voice died. “I’m not used to a road with this many switchbacks.”
    “Yeah, some real neck twisters. And the fun would really get started if somehow, someway, we’ve been bugged. On the other hand, it could be a real break.”
    “Bugged?”
    “Yeah. If we have one, and we can find it, we turn it into an asset.”
    “How?”
    He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Faroe and I are arguing about that.”
    “Who’s winning?”
    “I am, and he’s not liking it,” Zach said.
    She looked at the computer he’d been working on. The screen showed a muddy version of a Dunstan landscape.
    “You need a screen with more pixels,” she said. “Like Frost’s.”
    “I’m not appraising,” he said. “I’m just exploring the Dunstan art market in view of what we learned from Frost. I’d have St. Kilda do it, but they’re running an unusual number of ops right now. Research is crying. So unless it’s life-or-death urgent, I’m not kicking in their door.”
    She stared at the computer screen. “So Thomas Dunstan has his own Web site?”
    “Yeah, but this one belongs to Worthington’s Las Vegas auction. I’ve been looking at the online catalogue.”
    “Lousy reproduction.”
    “Only on my machine. Besides, the interesting thing isn’t the art, it’s the prices.”
    She bent over and tilted the screen. Immediately the picture sharpened. Ruby Marsh was the name of the painting. The scene was of thrusting mountains, clean blue sky, and a marshy valley turnedgold with autumn. The dimensions of the canvas were huge, definitely museum size.
    The price was six to eight million dollars.
    Zach watched Jill’s eyes widen and knew that she’d reached the bottom line.
    “That painting is one of the centerpieces of the Las Vegas Auction of Fine Western Art,” he said.
    “Wow.”
    “That’s one word for it. Worthington has pulled out all the stops on this one. Russell, Remington, Howard Terpning, Joseph Sharp, Blumenschein. If you believe the hype, this will be some of the best Western art in a generation to go under the gavel.”
    “Does Whatshisname—the big Dunstan collector—own this?” she asked, pointing to the painting called Ruby Marsh .
    “Talbert Crawford?”
    “Yes.”
    “No, this belongs to Dunstan’s son.”
    “The one who savaged Waverly-Benet’s reputation?”
    “The same,” Zach said.
    “The one who said my paintings were frauds?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Jerk,” she said.
    “Probably.” Zach leaned over her and scrolled back through some Web pages on the computer. “Take a look at this.”
    Jill sat at the table, angled the computer screen again, and began reading an article with a Carson City logo and yesterday’s date.
    Leading figures in the State’s art community are expected to announce major donations to the collection of paintings that will be showcased in a new wing of the Museum of Nevada and the West in Carson City.
    Announcements planned for later in the week will involve contributions by such well-known collectors as Tal Crawford, prominent investor and owner of a large ranch east of the Carson Valley.
    Crawford has been engaged in discussions with state arts officials about his plans to contribute a number of major works to the museum.
    A spokesman for Crawford would not confirm specific donations but did acknowledge that the collector has accumulated “probably the biggest collection of Western art in the state, particularly a large number of works by Thomas Dunstan, who is regarded as one of the most important landscape painters in the West.
    “Mr. Crawford has always prided himself on sharing these important works with the rest of the world,” the spokesman said.
    Sources in the governor’s office said they hope to have an announcement regarding the exact donation by next week.
    “So that’s what Frost meant by Bigfoot,” Jill said, looking at Zach.
    “Saturday. That’s the auction, isn’t it?” she asked.
    “Day after tomorrow,” he agreed absently, his mind on Crawford, Western paintings, politics, and auctions.
    “I keep thinking that what Frost was trying to tell us had something to do with the paintings.”
    “A thumbs-up for authenticity?”
    She frowned. “Maybe. Or maybe it had to do with the auction itself. Got any more coffee?”
    “I’ve been