THIRTY-EIGHT

 

 

As Payton’s office clock finished striking 9 a.m., she dialed Pennsylvania’s Hall of Records. Five phone calls and 40 minutes later, she hung up satisfied but thoroughly confused. Sean Stephen Adams was born at 4:12 a.m. on September 12, 1978, in Scranton, Pennsylvania to Edna and Rodney Adams.

Why would anyone travel over 200 miles to have a baby when there was a perfectly good hospital less than 10 miles away? Payton leaned back in the chair and tapped the pencil on her blotter. It didn’t make sense. A woman who’s due date is upon her doesn’t travel unless it’s an emergency. Her prenatal doctor, hospital room, everything at home is planned and ready for the new arrival. The security of being around family and familiar surroundings would keep a woman close to home, wouldn’t it?

Payton hugged the still-nameless kitten good-bye, rolled up her raincoat and stuffed it in the briefcase beside the umbrella then walked to Claire’s house.

Claire answered the door wearing a welcoming smile. “Good morning, come in.”

It was Payton’s first visit here and she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Since her impromptu call on Sylvie, she viewed many things in a different light. “I’m sorry for not calling. I wondered if I could ask you a couple of questions.”

If Claire was surprised, she gave no indication. She opened the door and waited for Payton to enter. Claire’s home was the complete antithesis of Sylvie’s. The place smelled like Pledge and Lestoil.

“Do you want a cup of coffee, or tea?”

“No thank you. I won’t keep you,” Payton said as Claire shuffled along the buffed hallway floor on the plastic soles of blue slip-on bedroom slippers. Payton and Claire sat at the kitchen table. Claire pushed aside a basket of artificial fruit and waited for Payton to speak.

“Do you remember the name of Edna’s pediatrician?”

Claire frowned, not from intense concentration. It was more a look of confusion. “Why would you want to know something like that?”

“Humor me, please.”

Claire looked as though she was trying to recall, but in the end, shook her head. “I really can’t remember. What’s this all about?”

“Sean’s social security number says he was born in Scranton, Pennsylvania. I think it’s odd that Rodney and Edna would travel two hundred miles to have a baby when there’s a perfectly good hospital in Watertown.”

“What possible difference could it make?”

Payton gave a one-shoulder shrug. “You know how song lyrics can get in your head and no matter what you do, you can’t get rid of them? Well, I can’t stop thinking about this.”

Claire appeared to give the matter a bit more thought, then seemed to come to a decision. “I wouldn’t like for you to spread this around. Even though all the parties are dead now, I just wouldn’t feel right.”

Payton nodded.

“Edna and Rod were having marital troubles. I think mostly it was because she was so determined to have a baby. She talked about it to me every day, so I’m sure she bombarded Rod with it. Years went by and it just didn’t happen for them. She finally begged him to adopt.”

“He didn’t want to?”

“He was adamantly against it. Anyway, when Edna found out she was pregnant, she was just about soaring through the clouds, you know what I mean? But, there was still a lot of tension between them. So, they decided to go away to have the baby.”

“You were close to them?”

“Edna was head librarian at the time. She gave me my first job when I came to town. I was just a kid then. When she died, I took over her job.”

“Do you know where they went?”

“I suppose it could have been Scranton. I still don’t understand why you’re asking.”

“It’s a puzzle with a piece missing.”

Claire smiled. “One piece?”

“There are a lot of missing pieces.”

“When I have a puzzle with lots of pieces missing, I usually throw it away.”

“Do you know if either Edna or Rodney had relatives there?”

“I don’t know about Rod. He wasn’t a real social man, and the only relative I know Edna had was a sister, Elaine. She lived here in town until maybe ten years ago. I don’t know where she went. But it wasn’t Scranton. She went someplace warm.”

Payton rose to leave. “Do you know if Mamie had the painting of the Commodore authenticated before Amanda bought it?”

Another vexed frown from Claire, and then a nod. “She did. Sean asked her to do the documentation, but she said she wasn’t qualified. She got someone from the City.”

“Was Amanda there during the documentation?”

“Not that I heard.”

* * * *

 

Payton spent the rest of the morning in a thoughtful muddle. MaryAnn arrived a little before one, looking more like her normal self. The color had returned to her cheeks and her eyes sparkled. She carried a brown paper bag, which she deposited on the counter. “I brought lunch.” She placed a ham and Swiss grinder before each of them while Payton went out back to get cold drinks and cups. They sat on the patio to eat.

MaryAnn wadded a mouthful in her cheek. “Oh! I have to ask you something. Did you eat that slice of chocolate cake on my counter?”

“Huh?”

“The cake. Remember I said you should eat it?”

Payton grinned. “I tasted the frosting. It was to die for, but I held back from eating the whole thing. Why?”

“When I got home last night it was gone.”

“You mean like a mouse came in and ate it?”

“If he did, he ate the plate and the plastic wrap too. It was there that morning, because I was going to bring it to you. But I forgot. And when I got home, it was gone.”

Payton laughed. “You can’t guess how many times I’ve thought about that darned slice of cake. The taste of that frosting has been on the back of my tongue ever since.”

“It’s very strange. Nothing else is missing.”

“No idea.” Payton took a bite of sandwich, shaking her head in disbelief. “Hey, guess what? Sylvie brought me a beautiful blue-eyed kitten yesterday.”

“You should bring it to the shop.”

Payton giggled. “I can see that. Walking to work everyday with a cat on a leash. Or worse yet, in one of those backpack things!”

“Or one of those strollers!” MaryAnn’s grin died. “I was thinking about getting a dog, or a cat. It’s so quiet.”

“Sylvie has lots of kittens. I’m sure she’d give you one. Question: do you remember Sean’s Aunt Elaine’s last name? Or do you possibly have a phone number?”

“Her last name is…Johnson. She lives in Amarillo. Sean sent her a Christmas card every year so her address must be around somewhere. What’s up?”

“I’m working on an idea. I’ll tell you if it pans out.”

“Want me to go home and see if I can find it?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Payton said. “Finish your lunch first.”

* * * *

 

MaryAnn was back in just over an hour. She thrust a piece of yellow lined paper at Payton. “I only had her mailing address in Texas. I tried to get the phone number through information, but it’s unlisted. Then I went through Sean’s personal phone book, but it wasn’t there.”

“Thanks. This will work.”

MaryAnn’s eyes narrowed. “Just what have you got up your sleeve?”

“Could you watch the store for a couple of days?”

“Sure, but tell me what’s going on, the suspense is killing me.”

“I’m going to Amarillo.”

“Okay, but what do you think she will be able to tell you? As far as I know, the only contact Sean had with her was through Christmas cards. That’s what I told the police when they asked about her.”

“I need this trip to be a complete secret.”

“I don’t get it, but I won’t tell.” MaryAnn made both a cross over the heart and a Girl Scout salute. “Did the cops tell you not to leave town?”

“Nope. You?”

“Yes.”

“Another question: do you know of any artists Sean might have been acquainted with—ones who paint with oils?”

“Mamie?”

“She works in water color.”

“Oh yes. Then I don’t know.”

“Maybe you can go through his address book?”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’ll tell you later. Thanks for lunch.”

Payton walked home, pushed along by the energy of her suspicions. If what she suspected had been going on, at least two people in Sackets Harbor had really good motives for wanting Sean Adams out of the way.

Mamie greeted Payton from the top of the stairs. She had a fluffy blue duster in one hand. “I just sold that big painting of the harbor,” she said, descending the stairs. “For three thousand dollars.”

“Awesome,” Payton replied, then made a squeaking sound to call the kitten. After a few seconds, it poked its head out from under the couch. Payton picked her up and cuddled her.

“Where did you get that?” Mamie asked.

“Sylvie brought her yesterday.”

“I had no idea there was a cat in the house.”

“I apologize. I forgot to leave you a note. You aren’t allergic or anything, are you?”

“No. I like cats.” Mamie scratched the kitten between the ears. “What’s her name?”

“I was thinking about calling her Magnolia. We had a tree outside our back door where I grew up, and the flowers were just the color of her fur. We could call her Maggie for short.”

“Nice.”

“Can we talk a minute?”

They sat on the love seat bathed in the passive solar heat of the afternoon sun. The kitten curled into the fetal position in Payton’s lap, purring.

“What can you tell me about Amanda’s painting of the Commodore?”

A cloud rolled past the window as Mamie looked at Payton’s top button. She took a breath. “Last year, Sean came to me. He said Amanda wanted to buy the awful thing but wanted documentation before she’d spend that kind of money. I didn’t know anything about documentation so I called galleries in the City. One of them sent me to Miles. He came and did what needed to be done. That’s the last I knew of it until a few weeks ago. Amanda came to me crying that she’d shown the painting to someone from the City—who said it was a forgery.”

“Forgery?”

Mamie shrugged. Her eyes moved up, but only as far as Payton’s chin. “I told her all I knew was I got it authenticated.”

“Is it possible a forgery was substituted after the documentation?”

“I wondered about that, but why would anybody bother? It’s not like it was worth a lot of money.”

“Amanda said she paid a lot.”

“Fifteen hundred dollars. I guess she might consider that a lot.”

“Have you seen the painting lately?”

“I went…after Amanda came and yelled at me.”

“When was that?”

“A few weeks ago. She accused me of being in c-cahoots with Sean. I was so humiliated.” Mamie sniffled and looked out into the street. “After that I got to thinking of something Claire and I saw: Sean and Amanda were in the café kitchen. They were arguing. One of the waitresses went through and while the door was open we heard Amanda tell him his little scam wouldn’t work and that she was going to tell Edward.”

“What happened then?”

“Sean laughed. And Amanda ran out.”

Payton stroked the kitten’s back.

“What did you say?” Mamie asked.

“I didn’t realize I said anything.” She smiled. “I think that after Miles authenticated the painting, Sean swapped the original for a forgery. I’m pretty sure the original is in the master bedroom of his house.” Mamie’s eyes narrowed. It was then Payton understood. “All this time you’ve been thinking Miles faked the papers.”

“How did you manage to work with Miles the past couple of months if you thought he was unethical?”

Suddenly tears were streaming down Mamie’s face. “I wanted the gallery so badly. I’m ashamed to say I was willing to do anything to get it.”

“What did you do after Amanda yelled at you?”

“I went to Sean, of course. He swore up and down the painting was the same one Miles documented.” Mamie’s hands were a blur of motion. “I didn’t know what to do. Amanda begged me not to say anything.”

“Because of Edward?”

“Yes, he’s got quite a violent temper. But also, she was afraid for the business. Things like this can affect how people view you as a businessperson.”

“So, what happened with Sean?”

“He seemed so upset I believed him. I-I convinced myself Miles had made a mistake. That’s happened before, right? Somebody got fooled by a forgery.”

Payton understood Mamie’s emotional turmoil. Sean had a way about him that inspired confidence. Whatever “it” was hadn’t worked on Payton, though, and he’d known it right from the moment they met.

She held the kitten in the air and gazed into its big blue eyes. “What do you think about the name Maggie? Do you think that’ll suit you?” The kitten continued purring. “I’m not sure if that’s an ‘I hate it’ or a ‘that’s all right with me’ purr, are you?” Payton asked Mamie, trying to ease the tension. “By the way, would you mind watching Maggie a couple of days? I’ve got to go out of town.”

“Be happy to keep an eye on her.”

In her office, Payton looked up the number for Southwest Airlines and made reservations for a flight to Amarillo Regional Airport the next morning. Then she called Amanda and made an appointment to see her at three thirty, which left Payton a half hour to kill before walking back downtown. She went upstairs and chose some clothes for her date; a white tank dress with a handkerchief hem. She set out antique jewelry trying not to think about Cameron’s grandmother, who’d given the turquoise necklace and earrings to her on her first “anniversary” in the family. High-heeled sandals and a lacy teal shawl completed the ensemble. Satisfied, Payton went downstairs, draping the shawl across the newel post at the bottom. She wondered where he’d take her.

Of course, since she’d called him, he might expect her to have selected the site. In that case, Payton chose a small restaurant in Watertown, one she and Helen had eaten at a couple of times.

* * * *

 

Payton and Amanda walked out of the marina parking lot and along the narrow beach fronting the tall stone wall. Both had removed their shoes and left them on the wall. Waves lapped on Payton’s bare feet. The water was cool but not uncomfortable.

“I wanted to talk about your painting of the Commodore,” Payton said.

Amanda’s manner turned wary. “What about it?”

“About it being a fake.”

Her expression registered who told you? but her words said, “That’s old news.”

“Was Edward really angry?”

Amanda sniffed. “That’s not even the word to describe his reaction. He stormed out of the apartment. I saw him go down the dock. I figured he was getting things ready for the race and went back to my housework. I found out the next morning that he’d given Sean two black eyes.”

Payton remembered those eyes, bursting up out of the surf. She’d thought the bruises related to his situation. “What happened after that?”

“Payton!” Amanda’s words came like a blast of dynamite. “You aren’t thinking my husband killed Sean!”

“Someone killed him, Amanda. And I think the reason you’re so volatile lately is because you think so too.”

Payton crossed her arms and tried to look at the water as something other than an enemy. Lake Ontario had tried to swallow her. “Where was Edward the night before the race?”

“Just where I told the police he was, down at the marina working on our boat. He came upstairs about nine o’clock.”

“Do they know about his fight with Sean?”

“He told them the whole story.”

Then why hadn’t authorities confiscated either of the paintings?

Who painted the forgery? She almost laughed thinking of the fiasco of a painting class the other night. Surely it couldn’t be any of them!

Payton thanked Amanda and put her shoes on.

“I think I’ll stay here a while,” Amanda said.