Except for the years Bob Larson had been in the service, Ali’s parents had worked together behind the counter of the Sugarloaf Café for their entire adult lives. Part of that time, they had been in partnership with Edie’s twin sister, Evelyn. With Aunt Evie gone now, it was just the two of them and a couple of long-term waitresses. During their many daily hours in and around the café’s small but immaculate kitchen, they argued with each other often, but mostly without rancor. They also tended to finish each other’s sentences. They knew each other about as well as two people could.
Ali’s phone buzzed. A glance at the readout told her Dave was calling. “Mom,” she said, “I have to go. I’ve got another call.”
She switched over to the other line. “Hey, Dave.” She had yet to open her briefcase, so she picked it up and carried it down the hallway so they could speak in relative privacy.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Back at the hospital. I got here just a few minutes ago.”
“How’s it going?”
“Quiet so far,” Ali said. “Sister Anselm’s still in Mimi’s room. So is Hal Cooper.”
“What about Mimi’s kids?” Dave asked. “Have either of them showed up?”
“Reportedly yes,” Ali replied. “Both of them. I haven’t seen them or spoken to them. I was told they’re down at breakfast. What’s going on with you?”
“I’m still here in Phoenix,” he said. “I stayed at a Best Western, but I’m an employee rather than a consultant.”
Ali ignored the dig. “How did the interview go?”
“With Hal? All right. When he started talking about Maggie, I thought at first she might be a girlfriend. Turns out she’s a cockapoo. He had left her with a neighbor, but when I took him by the crime scene so he could pick up some clothes, he picked the dog up, as well. They’re at the Ritz, too, since that’s the hotel nearest the hospital.”
“What did you think about him?” Ali asked.
“About him staying at the Ritz?”
“No, about whether he did this.”
“He fielded questions from several of us all at once, and his story never wavered,” Dave said. “He also provided plenty of documentation. The marshals are checking into those, and so far they all check out.
“Oh,” Dave added, “I thought you’d want to know that we’ve located Mimi Cooper’s car, or rather the highway patrol did. Her Infiniti was parked in a vacant lot just outside Gilbert with a For Sale sign plastered on the front window. It’s been there for at least twenty-four hours, stuck in among several other for-sale-by-owner vehicles.”
“That would mean that if Hal was involved, he’d need to have at least two accomplices,” Ali said. “One to drop off the vehicle, and another one to pick up the driver.”
“That’s how it looks,” Dave agreed. “Someone saw the Infiniti sitting there and wanted to buy it. He called the phone number listed for the seller. When that turned out to be a nonworking number, the guy got suspicious and called the cops. When someone finally got around to running the plates, they traced it to Mimi Cooper. The highway patrol towed the vehicle to their crime-lab impound lot. Once they saw what was inside the trunk, they notified the ATF. As of now the ATF guys are all over it.”
“Have they found anything?” Ali asked.
“Plenty,” Dave answered. “Naturally Donnelley is trying to keep a tight lid on the flow of information, but one of the guys who works at the lab is a good buddy of mine. He told me they found three empty gas cans, along with a partially used roll of duct tape and some women’s clothing-a bright blue pantsuit, a bra, a pair of panties, and a pair of gold sandals.”
“Sounds like pretty much the full-meal deal as far as Mimi’s clothing is concerned,” Ali said.
“That’s right,” Dave agreed. “It’s also my understanding that someone from the ATF may be dropping by the hospital sometime this morning. They’re hoping Hal Cooper will be able to identify the clothing as belonging to his wife.”
Ali remembered that Hal had told him Mimi had two rings-her wedding ring and her no-wedding ring.
“Did they mention finding any jewelry in the car?” she asked.
“Nope,” Dave answered. “No sign of that, at least not so far. I’m sure the crime lab is going over it inch by inch, looking for prints and any other trace evidence. Donnelley is still determined this all leads back to ELF. I happen to think he’s nuts, but that’s just me. As it turns out, however, it’s no longer any of my concern. For right now, I’m off the case. Sheriff Maxwell just called. With the ATF taking the lead on the investigation, he wants me back in Prescott, pronto. I have a court appearance scheduled for this afternoon on another case. The county attorney was going to ask for a continuance. Now he doesn’t need to. I’m on my way there instead.”
“Did Sheriff Maxwell say anything about wanting me back home as well?” Ali asked.
“Not to me,” Dave answered. “I think he’s still hoping you’ll be able to keep an eye on whatever the ATF is up to down here. He remains convinced that Donnelley and his people won’t be sharing any more information with us than is absolutely necessary.”
Great, Ali thought. Now I’m working undercover for both Sister Anselm and Sheriff Maxwell.
In a sudden flurry of activity, two people-a man and a woman-stepped off the elevator. The woman, a tall, willowy brunette, was complaining loudly to someone on her cell phone. The close family resemblance suggested that the man was her brother.
“I’ve been here for hours,” she said. “My poor brother drove all night to get here, but we have yet to be allowed inside the room. Hal is in there, and so is that busybody nurse or nun or whatever. The two of them come and go as they wish, but we can’t? It’s a pile of crap!”
“I believe Mimi’s son and daughter just got off the elevator,” Ali said. “I should go.”
“Don’t speak to them,” Dave advised. “Do the same thing you did yesterday. If you sit there with your computer on your lap, you’ll disappear into the woodwork. No one will know you’re there. In the meantime, I’m on my way north, but after hearing Hal’s description of Mimi’s two offspring, I’ll be interested in knowing what they have to say for themselves. Let me know if they mention anything about Mimi’s missing painting. I’ve been told it’s plug ugly, but it’s also worth a ton of money. It’s by someone named Klee. That’s spelled K-L-E-E, but it’s evidently pronounced like C-L-A-Y. I’ve never heard of the guy. Have you?”
Ali was stunned. “Do you mean Paul Klee?” she asked.
“Right. That’s the one.”
“Mimi Cooper had an original Paul Klee hanging over her fireplace in a house that didn’t have so much as a burglar alarm?”
“Oh, they had an alarm, all right,” Dave said, “but according to Hal, Maggie kept tripping the motion detector and triggering false alarms. They figured that since they had the dog, they didn’t need to turn on the alarm when they were home.”
“Wrong,” Ali said.
“Yes,” Dave agreed. “They’re not the only people to make that mistake.”
“Tell me about the painting,” Ali said.
“Winston, Mimi’s first husband, evidently gave her the painting as an anniversary present. I’m not sure how he came to have it. He said that holding on to the painting was like money in the bank, and much better than a savings account since it would grow with inflation.
“When Mimi was getting ready to divorce him, though, Winston wanted the painting to be included in their community property settlement. Had the divorce become final, Mimi might have lost it. From a financial point of view, Winston Langley did her a huge favor by dying first. Sound familiar?”
It was all too familiar. “Don’t remind me,” she said.
“Sorry,” Dave said. “Back to the painting. Hal says it looks like a paper mat little kids make sometimes by weaving strips of paper together, only this one is done with paint. Hal Cooper doesn’t like it much. He claims it’s nothing but a bunch of colored squares.”