FORTY-THREE

Payton greeted Miles with a warm handshake and close scrutiny—mid to late forties with high cheekbones and a narrow nose that gave his face a pinched look, like something didn’t smell quite right. Not bad looking in the grand sense of it though. Expensive haircut, longish sideburns, otherwise clean-shaven. No wedding band, just an onyx and gold ring on his right pinky finger. No other jewelry in evidence except a Rolex watch. The whole package presented a picture of financial well-being.

Was Miles Arenheim the sort who’d provide false documentation papers on forged paintings? Or had Sean duped him as he duped so many others?

A search on the Internet provided some information. David Miles Arenheim owned two homes, one in New York City and one in Aspen. He had no criminal record except an arrest for going 47 miles over the speed limit at the age of 17. He had a .45 caliber pistol registered to him in the State of New York. He had not been in the military. Last year he paid taxes on $2.7 million. Miles Arenheim was a noted authority on paintings, one of few in the United States licensed to provide documentation. His handshake was supposed to be his bond.

Payton needed a few uninterrupted moments to talk with Miles. Like a lost puppy, she followed him and Mamie around the downstairs, listening to Mamie’s commentaries about pieces he’d sent up from the City, and how she would display them.

“I sold this just yesterday,” Mamie said, touching a carved teakwood statue of an elk. “I’ll hate to see it go. Oh, where are my manners? Would you like some coffee or tea?”

“What I’d really like is a glass of brandy, or sherry if you have it.” This he said looking at Payton.

“I’ll get it,” Mamie offered.

This gave Payton the opening she’d been hoping for. “Do you remember the documentation papers you provided on a painting of Commodore Melancthon Brooks Woolsey for Sean Adams?”

A clink of glass against glass made them both turn. Mamie gave an embarrassed smile and said, “I didn’t know you were going to bring that up. I thought Amanda and Sean got it all settled.”

Miles’ brow knit in thought. “Ugly cuss? Uniform?”

“That’s him.”

“Long time ago, but yes, I remember. Why do you ask?”

“There’s a forgery of it floating around town. A forgery with your papers attached.”

“Shit.” Miles accepted the glass from Mamie with a nod.

“Did Sean hire you to document other paintings?”

“Several.”

“Was there ever a Frederic Edwin Church?”

“There was.” Miles set the glass on the dining room table. He took off his glasses and laid them beside it. “What are you trying to say?”

“I think Sean was selling forged paintings. I found some papers in his things.”

“His things?” Mamie asked.

“I was helping MaryAnn sort through them and found some old invoices and things. Anyway, he sold Church’s Lake George at least twice.”

Miles ran a hand through his hair, leaving a bunch on the left side standing straight out. Mamie put a hand up as though she wanted to brush it down but decided against it and jammed the hand in the pocket of her dress.

“Sean sold the painting twice for fifteen thousand.” Payton turned to Mamie. “Do you know anyone named Ann? There was another invoice for seventeen five made out to a woman named Ann, but there was no note as to what it was for.”

“I can’t think of anyone by that name.”

“I know a lot of Anns,” Miles said, “but none who strike me as being related in any way to Sean.”

“How well did you know him?” Payton asked.

“We met those few times I did the authentications. We never socialized. The day he burst in on Mamie and I at the gallery, I didn’t recognize him. It wasn’t till I was on my way home I realized who he was.”

Miles helped Mamie wrap the elk carving for shipment to London, and Payton went into her office and shut the door. For the first time in ages she felt like working on her memoir. While the writing program opened, she listened to Miles and Mamie bantering in the living room. Apparently he’d picked up the kitten and was cooing over her. How bad could Miles be if he cooed to a kitten? Mamie tapped on the door and announced she was taking Miles back to the airport. Payton went to say good-bye.

“I’ll check my records when I get back and call you,” Miles said. “It was nice seeing you.”

“You also. See you in the morning, Mamie,” Payton shut the door on them and went back to her book. She worked for a couple of hours, but her brain kept sidetracking to Sean and his birth mother. Payton wondered how Claire would react if she knew Payton found out her secret.

She shut down the computer, gave the kitten a good-bye hug and walked to Claire’s once again, without calling first. Definitely not apropos. Claire was in the side garden on her knees weeding. She grunted as she stood, dropping a handful of weeds atop a pile at the edge of the driveway. “Keep trying to get in better shape, but there always seems to be muscles I don’t reach.”

“It’s looking beautiful,” Payton agreed. “I’m surprised your monkshood is doing so well in this spot. Traditionally they like it shady and wet.”

“Well, it’s definitely not shady, but I have an underground watering system that keeps it pretty moist. Would you care for a glass of lemonade?”

“No thank you.”

“How’s your kitten?”

“A hellion,” Payton answered. “She’s decided she wants to be outdoors. She’s too little to let out on her own, so I have to drop what I’m doing to go out with her.”

“I’ll have to come see her sometime. I haven’t seen Sylvie’s cats in years.”

Payton lowered her voice. “I’m in no hurry to see them again either. How do they handle it when she hosts the Wanderlust meetings?”

“Felicia ordered Sylvie to clean the cat boxes or we wouldn’t come.”

“I’d have a hard time telling someone something like that. It’s sort of like telling someone they have bad breath.”

“You trying to tell me something?” Claire asked, mischievously wrinkling her nose.

Payton laughed and pointed at one of the other plants Claire had purchased at her shop. “You really have a green thumb.”

“What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“I worked on my memoir for a while this morning. Miles Arenheim came to see how the gallery was shaping up. Then I thought I’d come see how you were.”

“That explains why Mamie didn’t show up this morning. Sundays we most always spend the day together.”

“She picked him up at the airport early. About an hour ago she took him back.”

“What did you think of him?”

“Suave, sophisticated. Way out of my league,” Payton said.

“Boloney! He’s exactly your type.”

Eeuw. “Is that how I come off?”

Claire plucked out a single weed and dropped it on the pile. “There’s nothing wrong with sophistication and class.”

“I guess not, but in my mind that usually means snob too.” Seeing Claire’s averted eyes, Payton exclaimed, “No, not that!”

Claire gave a nervous laugh.

“People think I’m a snob?”

“In the beginning they did.” Claire went to the back steps and sat on the top one. “When you didn’t try to make friends…I think it was natural for them to think that.”

“I hope they don’t any more.”

“They have other things to gossip about lately.”

Payton brought up the reason for her visit. “Tell me about Edna and Rodney.”

“He was short and squat, stoop-shouldered and bowlegged. Very sweet. He doted on Edna, and then Sean when he came along. They did all those father-son things together, fishing, boating, baseball.” Claire gave a reminiscent laugh. “He bought Sean a little tiny baseball glove as a coming-home-from-the-hospital gift.” Then she added, “Rod and Mamie’s husband, Donald, were in the same graduating class.”

“Were they friends?”

“Yes. Well, during high school anyway. After Donald married Mamie and Rod married Edna, they sort of drifted apart. You know how it is, people get involved in their lives. Besides, Don changed. He got hired by that laboratory and turned really weird, talking about experiments and discoveries all the time. I don’t know how Mamie stood it.”

“So Rod and Sean got along well,” Payton said.

“Yes. Best friends, I guess you’d say.”

“How did Edna get along with him?”

Claire laughed, a deep rolling one that began in the pit of her stomach. “She was so jealous of the relationship between her boys!”

“Must have been hard on them both when he started getting in trouble.”

“God, yes, Edna was a wreck, Rod blamed himself. It wasn’t their fault. They were so good to him.” Her hands fluttered in her lap. “Maybe they were too good.”

Payton took a breath. “It must have been hard on you.”

Without hesitation, Claire asked, “How long have you known?”

An uneasy laugh squeezed between Payton’s lips. “A few days.”

“How did you find out?”

“It’s a long story. It all began with Sean’s social security card but ended with a visit to his aunt Elaine.”

“So, she’s still alive.”

“And well, and living in Amarillo.”

“Did he know, do you think?”

“I suspect he only knew he was adopted. They didn’t tell him, though.”

“They planned to. That was part of our agreement. When they—we—thought he was old enough. You’ve heard about his behavior. He wasn’t ready.”

“Was there anyone else who might have known?”

“No.” She thought a moment, then repeated, “No.”

“What about Mamie?”

“No. I’ve been so careful. It’s awful to say this, but Sean’s death has been a relief in some ways. To not have to watch everything I say. Not to have to worry what he’s going to do next.” Tears flowed down Claire’s cheeks.

“It must have been awful for you, to watch him lie, cheat and steal from your friends.”

Claire’s shoulders heaved with her sobs. Payton put an arm around her. The move brought on a new round of tears. It was time Claire got it all out. After a long while, she looked up at her, squinting into the sun and between racking sobs, said very softly, “I pl-planned to d-do something about it.”

Payton gulped and dropped her hand from around Claire when Mamie’s car turned into the driveway. Mamie got out, all smiles. While she opened the hatchback and took out a basket, Claire sniffled and swiped her sleeve across her face.

“Well, I got Miles onto his plane. What it must be like to own your own plane I can’t—” Mamie put the basket on the ground and went to her friend. “What’s wrong, Claire?”

“Nothing. We were just talking about Sean,” Payton answered for Claire. Payton stood. “I’ll be on my way.”

“We’re going on a picnic,” Mamie said. “Would you like to come? There’s plenty of food.”

“I’d love to, but I think I’ll take a rain check. I’m behind in my bookkeeping. Take care, Claire, I’ll see you soon.”

Claire sniffled again and waved.

Payton walked to the battlefield. It was late afternoon. Few tourists were around. She walked to the spot where MaryAnn had run aground. Unlike the last time she’d been here, visions of the accident didn’t storm her mind. So, Claire was going to do something about Sean. What did that mean? Tell folks the truth? Commit murder?

Could a mother actually bring herself to murder her son to stop the evil things he perpetrated on his townspeople? Could Claire feel that guilty for letting the Adamses adopt him, for subjecting them to those years of torment at his hands?

Claire said she was planning to do something about Sean. That meant she hadn’t actually done anything. But two things Claire said recently came resoundingly back. Both that, at the time, seemed like nothing more than the ramblings of a person suffering severe sorrow. The first was when Payton mentioned about Aden being a suspect and that the police couldn’t arrest him because he couldn’t be located. Claire had said, “That’s good then, isn’t it?” The second time had been in Mamie’s shop when Claire broke down, mumbling that it was all her fault. If Claire hadn’t killed him, then what did the comments mean?

Claire’s behavior had been odd, to say the least. First was the jogging. Then, the announcement that she was quitting the job she’d loved more than life itself to reopen The Taste of Gay Paree. Payton sat, pulling her knees up close and hugging her arms around them. She lowered her forehead on her knees. The news about the murders Sean committed had to come out. Payton couldn’t delay telling authorities. What would this do to Claire? Probably send her completely over the edge.

During the walk home, Payton decided to drive to the detention center and see if they’d let her visit Aden. Right this moment she didn’t care whether he’d killed Sean or not. She just needed to see his face. She ran upstairs to change into something more appropriate for visiting a jail but realized she didn’t have a clue what that should be, so she left on the same blouse and shorts.

At state police headquarters, they wouldn’t let her see him. Payton asked to see Sergeant Espinoza, but he wasn’t there. She stopped at the same A&W she and Vaughn had gone to and ordered a hamburger. Dripping grease, just like she remembered from her childhood. That very moment, she desperately wanted to be in Virginia, in her family home, surrounded by family. For one fleeting moment, she pictured herself squealing the tires out of the A&W parking lot and onto the Interstate ramp headed south.

At home, she shut off the car and laid her head on the steering wheel as the garage door slid shut behind her. She didn’t know how long she sat there, still considering packing a bag and heading back to the hills of Virginia. Family. People who loved her. She hadn’t been back in a very long time. Hadn’t even gone home after Cameron died.

The kitten met her at the kitchen door. Payton cuddled her, tears flowing. Maggie didn’t seem to notice, just purred and cuddled and loved. Exactly what Payton needed. They sat on the love seat in the dark. It wasn’t two minutes before she pulled herself erect and turned on the light.

She suddenly knew without a doubt who had killed Sean. Someone who’d been there from the start, known Sean since he was a baby, knew Edna and Rodney. Chances were good—very good—this person also knew Sean’s other secrets.

Payton picked off a cat hair that tickled her nose and looked out the window. Aden’s car was in his driveway, same as before, but now his porch light was on. This time she wouldn’t wait for him to visit. She put the kitten on the floor and raced upstairs to wash her face and repair her makeup.

The blow came without warning.