To Catch a Billionaire (8 page)

“Why wasn’t I notified immediately? You have my cell number.”

The desk chair slammed against the wall as Cam flew from the room. “Come with me, now,” she yelled as she raced through the halls. The thud and tap of shoe soles echoed behind her as the three staffers tried to catch up. At the arched doorway, Cam slid to a halt and peered into the room.

“Has anyone contacted Erin about this or called the police?” Cam demanded. She’d never had a call, so knew the answers to both questions she was forced to ask.

Meredith stepped up and said, “I called Erin at home. The housekeeper said she was out of town for the day. Then I tried your phone but it went directly to voice mail. Is your battery dead again, Cam?”

“Probably, I forget to charge the darned thing. Meredith, call the police. We’ll wait until they arrive before we enter the room. None of you have been in there since Guy found Jesse, right?”

Their heads bobbed in agreement. Meredith hurried away to make the call. While she was gone, Cam paced the hallway. Anxiety and alarm ran neck in neck all the while she waited for the police to arrive.

*  *  *

“Keep the doors locked until the police are finished with their preliminary investigation. Call our insurance company and let them know we’ve had a robbery. Don’t call Mr. Pimskin, I’ll handle that as soon as I’m finished here,” Cam instructed Meredith, who had managed to get her emotions under control. “Don’t say a word to anyone else, especially your new-found-friend, Mr. Forsyth, or I’ll fire your ass so fast you won’t know what hit you, understand?” Cam turned away from the startled woman and addressed the police officer awaiting her attention.

“If there is any, what’s the good news?” Cam asked him.

He was all business. Polite and to the point, the policeman said the room had been entered by someone who got past security without raising the alarm. Questions and answers had passed between the police and staffers. Crime scene technicians examined every inch of the room. One of the team drew a diagram of the space on his notepad, marking the space where the two pictures had hung, while another dusted for prints. A third man used a flashlight that beamed like a lighthouse beacon, to check every inch of the floor. Then he moved on to the walls surrounding the missing art.

Fascinated with the process, Cam watched in silence until the crew had gathered, discussed their findings and then left. She paid attention to what the officer said, and guided him to her office. As she neared the reception area, she asked Meredith to bring in coffee and walked on without awaiting an answer.

“If I may ask, Ms. Boucher, where is the owner today?” the policeman asked.

“Erin’s out of town on business. I called her before you arrived to tell her what’s happened. She’s on her way back to Greenwich. Why do you ask?”

“It’s unusual for the owner to be absent while we investigate a robbery, Ms. Boucher.”

She watched him glance at the walls, study the art hanging there and then turn his gaze back to her.

“I handle the workings of the gallery. Ms. Cameron stays in touch with what’s going on here. Other than that, she doesn’t have much to do with things.”

“You have a lot of responsibility, if you don’t mind me saying so,” he offered.

“True enough, but we’ve never had an incident like this, not ever in the history of the Cameron Gallery. It’s extremely upsetting, to say the least,” Cam confessed.

“I’m sure,” he said and turned to take the coffee Meredith offered him.

The two women glanced at one another before Cam thanked Meredith and watched her exit. A short rap on the door was followed by Guy’s entrance. She asked the officer to excuse her for a moment and followed Guy into the corridor.

Guy leaned in close and whispered, “Does he think it was a professional who stole the paintings?”

“He hasn’t said. Why do you ask?” Cam wondered aloud.

“Who else could get past our alarm system? Besides, Jesse wasn’t hurt bad, he was just knocked out for a bit.” Guy pulled his trousers up a tad, adjusted his belt buckle and puffed his chest out. “Looks like a professional heist to me.”

“Thanks for sharing that,” Cam said while she tried to hide a smirk. “I’ll keep you posted on the investigation.”

“Good, good. Thanks, Cam. I’ll be at my post even though we’re closed for the day.” With a nod and an all-knowing look, Guy sauntered off toward his end of the gallery.

“The help wondering what the police have come up with, Ms. Boucher?” the officer asked with a slight smile.

“We’re like family here,” she said with a light chuckle. “Everyone does their job, there’s no fighting among us, and this has thrown them a bit.”

“How about you? How
thrown
are you, Ms. Boucher?”

His eyes didn’t seem to miss a thing as he stared into hers. She drew in a breath and answered, “It’s more disturbing than anything I’ve ever dealt with. The worst of it is that I have to call Mr. Pimskin and tell him I’ve lost two of his most valued paintings. He’d loaned them to us for a couple months.” Cam flipped her hair from her shoulders and settled behind the desk once more. “Was any evidence collected that would point to the person who robbed us?”

“None that I know of. The thief was good, real good. If I had to guess, I’d say it was an inside job. Which brings me to my next question, how well do you know your staff, Ms. Boucher?”

“As well as anyone would know their employees. Do we ever really know what another person would resort to under certain circumstances?” she parried back.

“True. I see it all the time, but I had to ask. Where were you last night?” he asked with a sudden look of interest.

“Home, in bed from around midnight until five this morning.”

“Can anyone verify that?”

Cam gave the policeman a direct look and said evenly, “I live alone, so the answer would be no.”

Her answer seemed to please him, though she wondered why. Maybe he was interested in her or playing a game of cat and mouse. Either way, she wasn’t happy.

He rose and promised he’d be in touch when the reports were ready. Cam walked with him to the front door, waited until he started his cruiser and then locked up before she turned away. Her day had started on a crappy note and gone from bad to worse in a matter of hours. Not only did she have a robbery on her hands, she was playing a part that could come back and bite her in the ass.

Maybe Erin needed to move to Europe and leave Cam to run things as she did now. Cam smiled at the idea. Although, Cam might do well in Europe and Erin could step in. As she passed Meredith’s desk, she stopped and said in a cool tone, “I know I was short with you earlier, Meredith. I won’t apologize for it. It’s important that we keep our opinions of the staff and owner to ourselves and not offer them to strangers. Especially if that stranger is trying to make a move on the gallery. If Erin got wind of your actions, she’d probably fire you on the spot. Keep your own council, I mean it.”

“I’m sorry, Cam. I didn’t think before I spoke. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

With a nod, Cam headed toward the roped-off entrance where Guy stood at attention. She smiled and asked if he needed a break.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Guy insisted.

“We’re closed for today. Jesse will have to take the night off, I don’t want him to work after he’s been injured. I’ll call the security agency we usually use for our openings and see if they can send somebody over. You can leave at your usual time, Guy.”

“You’re sure? I don’t mind staying the night, Cam,” Guy offered.

“It won’t be necessary. Thanks for offering,” Cam grinned and returned to her office. After she’d called the security company and arranged for guards to be sent, she dialed Mr. Pimskin’s personal phone number.

A
S EXPECTED
,
THE
call had gone poorly. Mr. Pimskin was quite verbal in his anger over the loss of both paintings. He wasn’t interested in insurance money. He wanted his paintings back and Erin didn’t blame him. He made threats, accusations, and more until Cam managed to calm him down. She’d been on the edge of losing her own temper but then realized how she’d feel if the loss were hers instead of art loaned to her gallery.

After a half hour of soothing Mr. Pimskin’s ruffled feathers, Cam hung up and slumped back in her chair. Good grief, what a day. She leaned her head against the headrest and let out a huge sigh, rubbed her face and longed to yank the wig from her head and heave it against the wall. Frustration ran rampant as Cam considered all the angles of her situation.

She flicked her mental list of problems off, counting one finger at a time. She’d pretended to be someone who didn’t exist. Famous art had been lifted from beneath the guard’s nose at the gallery. Meredith was gossiping to the enemy. The enemy was trying to rack up points by turning the help against Erin, and Cam was armpit deep in shit. “That about covers it,” she muttered and lifted the phone from its charger.

The number rang again and again until a winded Mrs. Hardy answered the call. “Hello?” she puffed into the phone.

“Where were you, Mrs. Hardy?”

“In the cellar. The wine delivery was made today and I had the man take the cases to the wine cellar. I hurried to answer the phone. Is something wrong, Miss Erin?”

“I’ll be home late. There was an art theft here last night and I’ll need to go over the floor plan with the security team that’s coming in for the next few days. Don’t hold supper for me. I’m not sure what time I’ll arrive.”

“Oh my. Was anyone hurt?”

“Jesse Comber was knocked unconscious, but other than that, he’s fine. He probably has one hell of a headache,” Erin responded.

“Oh, that’s terrible.” Mrs. Hardy sighed heavily and then offered, “I’ll leave your dinner in the fridge, dear.”

“Thank you, and don’t wait up, okay?”

“All right, I won’t. Be careful coming home.”

The line went dead and Cam plunked the phone in its stand. She hauled a stack of paperwork forward, waded through most of it and answered the knock on the door with a loud, “Come in.”

Cam glanced up as three security guards strode into her office. The tallest man informed her they’d been sent by Syms Security Company. Cam checked their identification, nodded and motioned for them to sit. Briefly, she explained what was expected of them.

“Our gallery is small compared to others. We have a top-notch alarm system that failed to alert the police of our invasion. It’s in perfect working order, but it wasn’t tripped during the theft. The artwork stolen is valued in the thousands of dollars. This situation makes us appear inept in our safety measures. It’s up to you three to see that another theft doesn’t occur,” Cam insisted.

Mr. Syms had emailed each guard’s background check and security experience after their phone conversation. Assured of their abilities, Cam led a tour of the building. She left them to work out who would be stationed where. As she re-entered the reception area, she noticed Meredith preparing to leave and wished her a good night.

Meredith gave Cam a startled look and wished her the same before leaving by way of the front entry. Surprised at her use of the main entrance, Cam peered through the heavy glass as Meredith crossed the stone-paved grounds and rushed across the street.

A minor detail concerning the woman bugged Cam as she left the foyer for her own office. Try as she might, Cam couldn’t figure out what had been different about Meredith. Having begun the plans for an upcoming opening, Erin stared at her ideas and decided she’d had enough of the gallery and its business to last her. Hungry, disconsolate, and nerve wracked, she stacked files together, slid them into her briefcase and fled toward the rear door after notifying the guard in charge that she was leaving. On her way through the back door, Cam set the entry alarm.

*  *  *

Traffic was next to none as thunderous clouds dimmed daylight and promised more rain. The drive through the countryside calmed Cam as nothing else had all day. She’d slowed to turn into the wide drive and hesitated when Tristan’s car came into view. “Hell and damnation,” she muttered and swore under her breath.

Once her car was tucked safely into the garage, Cam swiftly entered the house through the rear entrance. As she rounded the hallway corner, Tristan’s voice filtered through the corridor.

“You’re sure Erin won’t be back today? After the theft at the gallery, I thought she’d return as quickly as possible.”

Mid-stride, Cam froze, then ducked into a corner under the staircase. Mrs. Hardy’s voice rang out, clear as a bell. “If Erin’s due back, she hasn’t called to say so. I spoke with her earlier today and was told not to wait supper. Can I give her a message for you?”

“In light of the robbery, I was merely wondering what her plans were concerning the opening at the Met and if she’d reconsidered my offer to buy the gallery.”

His footsteps sounded on the foyer floor as he paced. Erin peered past the corner’s edge. She watched Tristan. His back muscles were tight under the well-tailored suit jacket when he turned away. In an instant, Erin decided she’d had enough hiding and lying. She stepped into view as he glanced back at Mrs. Hardy.

“There you are, Ms. Boucher. I stopped by your office earlier and was told you were unavailable. Meredith appeared quite upset.” Tristan lifted a shoulder and said, “I suppose she would be after the robbery.”

“And you know what happened, how?” Cam asked. As suddenly as she’d decided to bare all, she’d changed her mind. If Tristan thought she was a liar, he might also think she was a thief. That wouldn’t bode well for everyone, under any circumstances.

Before she could answer, Mrs. Hardy gave Cam a wide-eyed, warning look and offered to take the briefcase from her. “I was just telling Mr. Forsyth that Erin isn’t back yet. I was unaware she’d decided to return home.”

“There’s been a theft at the gallery and Erin should be here later tonight. I spoke with her this morning. I should have called and let you know. I apologize Mrs. Hardy,” Cam said.

“Not to worry, you must have enough on your mind, Miss Cam. Have the police reported back to you?”

“Not yet.” Cam glanced at Tristan as Mrs. Hardy took her coat and briefcase from her. “I suppose the event was on the news?”