“I’m surprised you want to go down there,” Lisa said. “That’s the last place I want to be, but suit yourself. Don’t count on me going with you.”

  Relief and freedom washed over Jane. There was no way she planned to spend the rest of the day down there but she could feign interest when she found Andrew. They had been constant companions for several years. Jane was adept at catalogueing his discoveries and she had to admit he recognized value when he saw it. There were times she strongly disagreed with him in regard to worth but when push came to shove, there was no doubt Jane Higgerson stood by Andrew. He could count on her to join him when haggling prices for rare relics. Andrew, aware none of it was of genuine interest to her, knew how much he needed her.

  So when he looked up and saw Jane standing next to him his face spread into a wide grin. “It looks like you couldn’t resist, Jane. Does this mean you want to start collecting?”

  “It means I’ve had it up to my neck with Lisa Grantham. She is beginning to get on my nerves with her high and mighty attitude.”

  Andrew laughed. “So this is your excuse, is it?”

  “I was desperate.”

  In the next few minutes, Andrew described various artifacts to Jane. She found she hung on to his words. She had never seen so many Native American finds in all the times she accompanied Andrew on his buying trips. Andrew led her to the long glass case that housed ancient treaties and other documents. He told her how to tell if they were authentic or not. He assured her everything in that case was verified authentic, and he explained he knew the vendor well. He introduced Jane to Randy Fletcher, a well-known Algonquian researcher.

  When they walked away, Andrew mentioned Randolph Sheffield’s prized wampum bead. “I’d like to find that piece myself. I’ve only seen one that dark of a purple in all my days of collecting. The white and pale violet ones seem to come around more often.”

  “Maybe you’ll have to poke around in Mr. Sheffield’s old attic after everyone is asleep,” Jane teased.

  “That wouldn’t be so hard to do. That place gets quiet in the middle of the night. I guess with those comfortable beds no one experiences insomnia.” They did not speak as they circled the outer edge of the room. Andrew resumed the conversation. “If that wampum bead is in the attic I would think it would be in some type of box or a small trunk of some kind. It still baffles me why it isn’t in a safe somewhere.”

  “Why don’t we get away from this stuffy place, Andrew? I saw a cute Italian restaurant near Sweet Treats bakery. I’m in the mood for some Italian food.”

  “I’ll go with you. I know you need to enjoy this trip, too, Jane. The bed and breakfast isn’t expecting us for lunch anyway.” He glanced at his watch. It read one in the afternoon.

  When they entered the restaurant there were several people already seated. They were escorted to a table near the window. At the table next to them sat Carolyn and Jason Pyles. They huddled across from one another, oblivious to those around them. Jane started to greet them but from their facial expressions she knew they were deep into a serious conversation. She and Andrew sat down at a corner table a few feet from the Pyles.

  Andrew talked of the auction coming up later that evening. Jane tuned him out when words from Carolyn Pyles reached her ears.

  “We can’t do it that way, Jason. People will be suspicious. You have to come up with a better plan.”

  “We could say we had an emergency and leave earlier than expected,” Jason said.

  Jane found it hard to imagine anyone would wish to leave Sheffield Bed and Breakfast before the end of their planned stay. She was convinced that was their topic of discussion.

  Andrew stopped talking and looked at Jane. “What’s going through your mind? You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?”

  “I’m sorry, Andrew, I was just distracted.”

  Carolyn and Jason stood to leave. Jason caught Andrew’s eyes and approached their table with a greeting. They briefly discussed the show. Jason placed the tip on their table and excused himself. They hurried out and headed toward the bed and breakfast.

  “They seemed to be in a hurry,” Andrew said. As an afterthought, he commented, “Jason picked a beautiful wife. Did you see how her hair is the color of summer sand on a beach?”

  “She’s married, Andrew. That means she already belongs to someone,” Jane teased. His assistant was used to his roving eyes and harmless interests.

  After the meal Andrew suggested they return to the show.

  “I’ve had my fill of artifacts for one day,” Jane said. “I’m heading back to the bed and breakfast. I hope to find a good read in the cozy library room there.” Andrew offered to give her a ride back but she politely declined and stated she preferred a walk to better breathe in the sea air.

  At the bed and breakfast, Jane decided to change out of her sandals and into some summer flats before heading to the library. On the second floor, Jane had to pass the Pyles’ room to get to hers and Andrew’s room. She heard rattling sounds and low voices. Something thudded when it dropped onto the planked hardwood floor. It sounded as if they had accumulated quite a stash from the Market Show. She shook her head wondering about the way such collectors thought. Andrew was that way, too, but that did not mean she understood their leanings any better.

  That evening, Detective Mac Rivers called Brenda. “If you’re free I’ll pick you up in a few minutes and we’ll go to the Market Show.”

  “I’ve been down there…but I know you have an ulterior motive. I’ll see you in about ten minutes.”

  Once at the show, Mac and Brenda headed for the events center’s office. Mac asked to see the screen that showed the center’s floor area. He told Brenda to concentrate on any guests of the bed and breakfast while he scrutinized all other visitors. Several times Andrew Masterson was spotted as well as Edward Grantham. Andrew spent an inordinate amount of time peering at documents and then moved to arrowheads and other smaller items. After spending time there he moved back to the document case. This exchange went on for approximately ten minutes until he moved forward. He stopped to answer his cell phone twice. Her eyes caught Edward Grantham. Under the lights, Edward’s brown hair indicated flecks of grey. He wore his familiar somber look and Brenda noted he spent time talking with the vendor whose case contained various coins.

  “Look at Edward Grantham,” Brenda said. “Is he in front of a case that holds only coins, or do you think there are wampum beads in there, too?”

  “There could very well be all types of coin-like items. It’s hard to tell from the roving camera.” Mac noted plainclothes officers milling around. He told Brenda he was going to talk to the vendors who lost items in the theft. The event planner waited with them in the conference room until Mac arrived. All four sellers sat and waited. Brenda stayed in the office watching the monitors to see if there was any suspicious behavior.

  After the initial questions and receiving copies of photos of the stolen items, the detective remained silent. The sellers watched him examine the photos. Mac observed details and then asked for wider pictures of the exact location of the booths. The three stalls were scattered across the vast room. Each was located near different exit doors. Mac told them thank you and then asked Brenda to go back to the show room with him. He had already heard many of the details, but wanted Brenda to hear it first-hand from the vendors and to get her fresh impressions of the situation. He took her to the booth of the first vendor. This seller specialized in woven rugs and blankets made as early as the Colonial era by Native American women. He pointed out that a very valuable blanket in particular was the one he regretted losing most.

  “It was hand woven in 1690 or perhaps 1695 according to experts. It was the smallest one, probably made for an infant or small child to enjoy. Though small, it had the highest value for its size…until you get into the normal, larger sizes.” He described the blanket in detail.

  Mac walked to the exit door and tried to open it. A nearby officer approached him and told him the door was alarmed and unusable except in emergencies. A panic button could also pushed from upstairs to release it if ever escape was needed.

  “Where does it lead to?”

  “It goes into a short hallway to another door that leads to the outside. Beyond that door is…nothing, I guess. An open field.”

  Mac and Brenda moved across the room to the next vendor who had three valuable flints stolen.

  “I secured the lock on this case. I opened it only if someone wanted to examine them closer.”

  “Do you recall anyone in particular who may have wanted a closer look?”

  “There were three very interested buyers yesterday. One spent more time than the other two though all showed genuine interest.” When asked to describe the one most interested, the older man said, “He was tall and very good looking. He had brown hair and perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties. I recall he said he enjoyed collecting arrowheads back in Ohio. He was a good conversationalist, I have to say. I always like it when people can offer me as much as I can offer them.”

  “How long did you have them out of the case for him to look at them?”

  “I would say five minutes or less. He was very interested and mentioned a hidden flint he once found in back of a painting by an artist who painted the Mandan Tribe a long time ago. While he looked I turned my attention to another customer. He seemed trustworthy enough. The other customer was a young lady asking about several arrowheads. They were rare. She didn’t ask me to take them out for a look. I think she just admired them. She moved on to things like blankets and rugs. Most of the women tend to go that direction.” He smiled. “I suppose they are looking for new ways to decorate their homes with something of value.”

  “Can you describe the woman?” Brenda asked.

  “She was attractive. I’m married and way too old for someone like her but I couldn’t help notice. She had black hair and was rather pretty. A short, small frame and I remember she had a soft voice. I had to lean toward her to hear her conversation.”

  “Where does that door lead?” Mac asked. He pointed to the nearby service door.

  “It goes into a hallway that leads to the kitchens and a narrow snack area. I think the kitchen is used for big events but not for this one. Just tables in case people want to bring their own food for a bite to eat.”

  As Brenda and Mac walked away, Brenda told Mac the man had described Carolyn and Jason Pyles. “I picked up quickly when he said they didn’t arrive at his booth together or leave together which is somewhat of a hitch in my assumptions. But perhaps that was part of a strategy…I’m sure that’s who visited his booth.”

  Mac agreed. Early that morning when he had arrived before the doors opened, he had his officers take fingerprints from every service and exit door. The samples were already at the lab for analysis.

  They approached the last vendor victimized by theft, a booth situated in the opposite corner near another door. A couple in their early fifties manned the stall. Handcrafted jewelry glistened out in the open but placed closest to where the sellers sat behind the table. From William’s description of wampum beads, Brenda quickly recognized an array of white and pale purple wampum. They were locked under glass.

  “I think those must be wampum beads,” Brenda said. “I hoped you had a dark purple one so I could see its famous beauty.”

  The faces behind the table shifted to frustration. “We had a rare purple one, actually. Someone must have known it was the most sought-after, because they took it in the robbery last night.” The man’s eyes held anger. “We’ve never had any problems with stealing in all the years we’ve shown our relics and precious artifacts. It was under lock and key, too. That made me wonder if it was someone in security around here.” Brenda privately had doubts about that; security officers had keys to the building doors, but not to each vendor’s private display case.

  Mac asked about any customers who stood out the day before. The man detailed the appearances of the few he recalled.

  “There was that tall older man. I believe he said he taught Ancient History or something like that at a university. He wanted a closer look at all of the wampum. I brought one at a time out for him to look over. I kept my eyes on him while he examined the purple one.” The man shook his head again in frustration.

  “I remember him, too,” the woman said. “He told us he was staying at the Sheffield Bed and Breakfast here in Sweetfern Harbor. He mentioned the owner had a dark purple one in the attic of the bed and breakfast.”

  The man chimed in. “That’s right. I remember that now because I thought it was odd that it would be in an attic – but I figured it must be in a safe hidden up there. Surely no one would just have something like that lying around.”

  Brenda stepped forward. “I am the owner of that bed and breakfast. The detective here is my husband. Neither of us knew the wampum bead existed until a couple of days ago. I haven’t found it yet but haven’t had much time to look for it either.” Brenda explained it had belonged to her uncle, now deceased. “Until this show brought specific guests in I had never heard of this special wampum bead of my uncle’s.”

  The man appeared sheepish. “That all makes sense. When you find it you’ll know you have a real gem in your possession.”

  “I hope you find it soon. When you do, you should get it to a lock box or a secure safe.” The woman smiled at Brenda and handed her a business card. “If you ever decide to sell it, please call us first.”

  Mac’s eyes roved behind the booth and landed on a door. “Where does that door lead to?”

  “It goes out into the vendors’ parking lot,” said the man. “We can unload at this door and there are assigned parking spots depending on the size of trailers or RVs.”

  Mac assured all victims that the case was being taken very seriously by his department and he hoped to reach resolution soon for them. He and Brenda walked toward the main door.

  Brenda said, “That sure was interesting. Of course, we can’t assume any of the guests are real suspects at this point…those described are known to be attracted to ancient items, so it could all be a big coincidence.” Inwardly, she felt the thief was indeed one of her guests. Mac knew exactly what she was thinking and silently agreed.

  They went through the two metal detectors at the entrance before reaching the sidewalk.

  “What did you have for lunch, Mac?”

  “To be honest I’ve had no time to eat anything. Let’s stop at Morning Sun Coffee and see if Molly has anything left to make up a sandwich or two.”

  Brenda and Mac waved to Molly when they arrived and found a table near the window. Soon after, Carolyn and Jason Pyles entered.

  “After that big Italian meal, I don’t know why we’re here, Jason.”

  “I can’t pass up the chance to stop in for one of their famous specialty coffees. Why don’t you try one of those flavored teas?”

  They sat down several tables from Brenda and Mac. Brenda noted Jason’s flushed face. He set a small backpack on the floor and ordered for himself and his wife when Molly approached the couple. Then she walked over to ask Brenda and Mac for their order. As she was facing the Pyles, Brenda watched as they entered an animated conversation in low tones. When they finished ordering, Mac saw that she was watching. His eyes questioned her. Brenda’s wrist rested on the edge of the table and she held up her index finger signaling for him to wait. She tried to hear the words but their voices were too low.

  Suddenly, Carolyn stood up. Her chair scraped loudly on the floor and everyone turned to look at the couple. Carolyn’s face flushed red and her hands shook. Her usual calm voice escalated and customers sat in silence to watch the unfolding confrontation. “Have your coffee alone, Jason. I’m going back to pack up.” She stormed out of the café.

  Jason appeared undisturbed and pulled his cell out to answer a call.

  “Something’s not right about this little charade,” Brenda said.

  Mac paid Molly for their late lunch and when they left, Jason Pyles still sat at his table, texting. He had no interest in who was around him, apparently.

  Chapter 5

  Surprising Personalities

  “I wanted to turn around and observe what you were watching, Brenda. What did you see?”

  Once in the car, she told Mac she could not discern their words but more than once Jason bent to check something in his backpack.

  “I wonder why he carried it in the first place,” Mac said.

  “I thought it was to carry any purchases, maybe a water bottle. I’m not so sure now. Why would he keep checking the contents? More importantly, it seemed uncharacteristic of Carolyn to cause such a ruckus in public. It’s the first time I’ve her raise her voice. I think it was all a performance but I don’t know what was really going on. Maybe the performance was just for her husband because she was mad at him.”

  Mac chuckled. “Well, she wouldn’t be the first.”

  The conversation turned to the recent thefts at the Native American Market Show. Both were convinced the only way for the culprit to succeed was to have escaped through one of the three doorways from the targeted booths.

  “The biggest question in my mind,” Brenda said, “is how did they steal the items to begin with? There is plenty of security in that place.”

  “There had to be more than one thief,” Mac said. “Perhaps they were disguised to look like security officers.”

  “That still doesn’t explain how they stole from locked cases.” They still had so many questions, and not a lot of answers.

  “Perhaps the evidence will come back from the lab soon and give us some new leads,” Mac reassured her, patting her hand. They drove on in thoughtful silence.

 

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