Framed For Love Page 11

Brionney shook her head. “Not from what I’m understanding. I think they’ve hired—no, that’s not right exactly. It says something more along the lines of acquiring someone to paint . . . uh, let’s see . . . the translation is of the word they are using is ‘an exact likeness.’ ”

  “Forgery!” Cassi exclaimed. “That would make sense. Laranda’s done it before.” She looked up at Robert. “Remember the Buddha? Jared must have been checking up on her and found out.”

  “Then how did your friend Trent get the papers in the first place to send to Jared?” Robert asked.

  “I don’t know.” Cassi thought for a moment. “Look at the name next to the shipping dates. Most of the exporting was done through the company Trent works for. Maybe that’s how Trent got the papers. But it doesn’t really matter how he got them, does it? What I wonder is why Jared didn’t tell me.”

  “Hey, let’s not get hasty,” Robert warned. “Maybe he didn’t have time.”

  “The paintings may have been copied for a reason, right?” added Jarelyn. “Some kind of a permitted copy. I think I read about something like that once. Even if they are forgeries, you don’t really know that Laranda is behind them. This information could be completely unrelated.”

  “I know Jared’s with her, and that’s enough.” Cassi stared at the papers on the table. “It’s odd that there are several addresses for each painting,” she said. “See? Here and here. Both in the U.S., one in Wyoming and one in New Hampshire.”

  “Well, there’s another address for the same painting in France,” Brionney pointed out. “Could those addresses be the people who are interested in the painting? Or does it mean that someone made that many forgeries?” No one had an answer.

  “What about in that other language?” Robert asked. “Can you find the same painting listed?”

  “It’s Portuguese,” Brionney said.

  “Portuguese?” Cassi had guessed it was a Romance language, but hadn’t thought of Portuguese.

  Brionney tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “The only reason I know is because my sister-in-law speaks Portuguese. I learned a little from her.”

  “Here it is,” Cassi said, finding the name. “It’s the same painting. But can you read any of this text here?”

  “No,” Brionney said. “I can make out a word or two, but not enough to tell you what it says.”

  “It’s probably directions, like in the French text,” Jarelyn said.

  “Could any of the addresses be galleries?” Robert asked.

  Cassi studied them. “Not any I recognize. And to own such important paintings, they should be big enough for me at least to be familiar with. Like I said, I heard about some of these paintings going up for auction, but it wasn’t a public thing. The seller seemed to be contacting only serious collectors.”

  “Rich ones, you mean?” Brionney said with a smile.

  “Something like that.” Cassi wondered if Jared had any buyers that might have been interested in the paintings. “It happens often enough.”

  “Who’s the seller?” asked Robert. “If you’ll notice, there isn’t a gallery name or company who is shipping the paintings or anything.”

  Cassi frowned. “You’re right. It’s like a piece of the puzzle is missing. Probably on purpose.”

  “Well, it might be a long shot,” Brionney said, “but my sister-in-law’s family is pretty prominent in Paris. I bet they could check around and see if any of the people at the addresses bought one of the paintings listed next to their address. They might even know some of the people personally. ”

  Cassi put her hands flat on the table. “Maybe I should go there myself. That way I could find out if the paintings are real or forged.”

  Robert didn’t conceal his surprise. “What are you talking about? You can’t just go off to Europe like that.”

  “I can too,” Cassi said. “Look at the dates near the addresses. Not the shipping ones, but the others at the end. What do you bet that’s the delivery date? Most have passed, but some will be delivered tomorrow and the next day. If I can find out who’s behind this, maybe I can find out where Jared is.”

  No one spoke, but they all looked at her as though she’d gone crazy.

  “Laranda’s got him,” Cassi said into the silence. “She left a message on my phone so I would know he was with her. Somehow she broke out of jail, and with all this commotion, I can’t believe she’ll stay in America.” Cassi tapped the papers. “This is my only lead.”

  Robert shook his head. “What if it’s a trap? Did you ever think of that?”

  “No, I didn’t.” Cassi’s mind worked to find a way around this new possibility. “Who would do that?”

  “A disgruntled employee?” Brionney suggested.

  “I don’t know,” Jarelyn said. “My vote is on Jared and Trent. They probably found the information in the exporting papers or whatever and noticed Laranda’s name.”

  Robert frowned. “How about Laranda herself? Maybe she gave them the information.”

  “Why would she give the papers to Jared and Trent?” Cassi asked.

  “You got me there, but it does seem strange that all these records seem so detailed but lack the name of the seller. Don’t you think that’s odd? Almost as if these documents were prepared to give someone enough information to get them curious, but not enough to do real damage unless they looked into it and alerted someone.”

  Jarelyn smiled gently at her husband and put an arm loosely around his neck. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “None of it does,” Robert agreed.

  “That’s why I have to go,” Cassi said.

  Robert shook his head adamantly. “No. For once you can’t be so impulsive.”

  “I can’t just wait around.” Cassi’s voice lowered until it was nearly a whisper. “I love Jared. Besides, I won’t be in danger. I’ll just go see a few paintings and ask a few questions, that’s all.”

  Robert’s face softened. “Okay, go. But you look up Brionney’s brother and get help. Promise me you won’t do anything dangerous. If you find something, call me, and I’ll pass it along to whoever’s over the investigation at the FBI.”

  “But you won’t tell him where I’m at, right?”

  “Of course not.” He pulled the papers toward him. “But I will make a copy of these and do some searching here on my own.”

  “Good idea,” Cassi said. “But you’d better keep them away from the house, just in case. I wouldn’t want anyone to come here looking for them.”

  “I’ll keep them in my locker at the precinct,” Robert said. “Nobody will touch it.”

  Cassi began to make rapid plans. She had a passport, but it was in California, tucked away in her file of important papers. How could she get it? And even if she had the documents, would it be wise to use them? Anyone with means or power who cared to check would be alerted to her plans. How could she get around that? Cassi spent ten minutes worrying before the solution came.

  Carl.

  Carl Boyer was a man Jared had met while living in Los Angeles. Embittered by a surfing accident that left him paralyzed from the waist down, he had never been able to find peace, mocking God and repeatedly refusing to set foot in any church. Three months ago when Cassi and Jared had visited to ask him to test a Buddha statue for authenticity, he had conceded that maybe his talent at dating artwork and his ability to see auras were a replacement for the old life he had lost. That day, he decided to travel to Mexico and marry his girlfriend, Maria. He told them that on the day Jared married Cassi, he would finally go inside a church.

  Cassi had also become his friend, and she had talked to him so often in the past few months that she had his phone number memorized. But now, instead of calling him with good news, she would have to beg for his help. Hopefully he would still be at his apartment at Venice Beach this early in the morning.

  “Hello?” said a familiar gruff voice.

  “Hi, Carl. It’s me, Cassi.”

  “Ah, calling to check up on me
, no doubt.” The raspiness in Carl’s voice took on a note of humor. “Don’t worry. Maria and I will be there tomorrow when you take the plunge.”

  “Jared’s missing,” Cassi blurted out.

  “Well, I’m sure he’ll—”

  “Laranda’s got him, and I’ve been chased all over the countryside by people trying to get some information I have. Now I need to go to France, and I remembered that when Jared and I were in trouble before, you gave me the name of a person who did fake IDs. Do you know anyone who does passports in Utah?”

  “Go back and start at the top,” Carl ordered. “I want to know exactly what you and Jared have gotten yourselves into this time.”

  Cassi complied, shortening the drama considerably. Carl kept completely silent while she talked. Then he made his pronouncement. “Okay, at the outset, I’ll say you made the right choices with what you’ve been given, especially with the warning your brother received when he called the FBI. But going to France might be dangerous.”

  “Not any more than being shot at or plunging into a lake full of water. Carl, please! We have to help Jared.”

  “I wish I could go instead,” he muttered. For an instant, the bitterness of old was back.

  “Maria needs you. Jared needs me.”

  “Okay, this is what we’ll do.” Carl’s voice became sure and strong, strangely reminding Cassi of Quentin Holbrooke. “You take a flight out here, and I’ll meet you in the L.A. airport. You’ll get a better flight from here to Paris than you would from Salt Lake anyhow. Schedule at least an hour between the connecting flights. I’ll bring my friend, and we’ll get it taken care of there. You won’t have a choice in names, or anything. You’ll have to use what he’s got.”

  “Just make it a name I can pronounce.”

  “Can’t promise that. I’m gonna hang up now. Call me back as soon as you know what time your flight arrives. The sooner, the better.”

  “Thanks, Carl.” Cassi hung up the phone and let Robert take over. He scheduled the flights, paying for them with his credit card. Cassi’s plane would arrive in L.A. at eleven in the morning. An hour later another plane would take her to New York, and then a third one would fly on to Paris. Cassi thought about calling Renae but didn’t dare in case her calls were being monitored. She asked Jarelyn to call her later and tell her what was going on.

  Her five nieces and nephew woke up then, and there was pandemonium as they greeted Cassi. She couldn’t believe how grown-up they’d become in the four months since she’d last seen them. Each was a varied mixture of Robert and Jarelyn, and holding the younger ones made Cassi long for the children she and Jared planned to have.

  Cassi wished she could cry but tears refused to come—only a vision of Linden lying on the carpet while his life leaked onto the floor. What more could she have done? The question would haunt her forever.

  Cassi’s parents arrived, filling the small house to bursting. Her mother grimaced when she saw Cassi’s hair, but she held out her arms. “I’m so sorry, Cassi. But don’t worry about anything for the wedding. I’ll take care of delaying everything.” For a few moments Cassi let herself be caught up in the warmth of her family’s love.

  The kitchen began clearing as three of the older children ran for their school bus and Robert drove to the store to copy the pages in the manila envelope. The next-door neighbor, Brionney, had also disappeared, but soon returned with her brother’s address in France.

  “I’m trying to track him down at work,” she said. “He’s going to call me back as soon as his wife finds him. But she’s sure one of them will be there tomorrow morning to pick you up.”

  Cassi folded the paper into her pocket. “Thank you so much. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

  “You could take a package for me, if you don’t mind.” The girl’s expression had suddenly become shy. “It’s for my sister-in-law’s brother, Marc. He’s a good friend of mine.”

  “A boyfriend?”

  Brionney’s face flushed. “Not really. Well, he was more than a friend to me, but he’s in love with someone else.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter. He’ll always be my friend.”

  Cassi felt her heart go out to the younger woman. For Cassi’s entire life she had liked men, but had never been sure of their return affection until Jared had come along. She was glad now that she hadn’t met anyone before Jared, but the years of loneliness hadn’t been easy.

  “Is there anything else I can do?” Brionney asked.

  “Would it be okay if when your brother calls you back, you give him a list of the addresses in Paris? I think there are only twenty or so in that city. Then maybe his in-laws could run over the list and see if they know anyone.”

  “That’s a good idea. It’ll save time.”

  “It was Robert’s idea. Must be the policeman in him. He wrote the addresses down for me before he went to copy the papers. The list is in the kitchen.” Cassi led the way, but stopped in the hall as she thought of something else. “You know, maybe it would be a good idea not to tell your brother very much. We don’t want to start a scare among his friends or anything. We just want to see the paintings. If I decide they look odd, I’ll tell the authorities. But the less the owners know—and your brother—the better for them, I think. I wouldn’t want them to get in trouble because of me.”

  “What they don’t know won’t hurt them, right?” Brionney said.

  “Right. Maybe you could tell them I’m an art buyer interested in the paintings. That I’m flying out to look at theirs and many others.”

  “That’s true, isn’t it?”

  “Almost.” Cassi knew it wasn’t the whole truth, but she had to protect anyone else from getting hurt.

  Robert arrived home after leaving his copy of the papers at his precinct for safekeeping, and he drove Cassi to the airport and dropped her off at the unloading area. In her hand she carried the tapestry case Jarelyn had packed with some of her own clothing.

  “You’d better get some sleep, Robbie,” Cassi told him as they stood together on the sidewalk. “You’ve been up all night.”

  “Well, I’m going back to the precinct first to put out a few leads on your papers, and then I’ll go back to the house for a nap. Good thing I’m not expected at work.”

  “Because you were supposed to be flying down for my wedding.”

  He must have heard the bleakness in her tone because his hug was tighter than usual. “Hey, it’ll happen. Now remember, nothing dangerous. I have to admit that I’m relieved you’ll be out of here until I find out what’s going on at the FBI. When I do, I’ll fax them a copy of the papers.”

  “Thanks for everything. I owe you big-time. And tell Jarelyn I’ll send her a check for the clothes.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just keep safe, that’s all I ask.” He gave her a swift kiss and was gone.

  Since her alias wasn’t yet in place, Cassi checked in for the flight using Jarelyn’s name and ID, glad that the picture on her sister-in-law’s license was poor enough to pass a cursory glance. After going through airport security, she sat down to wait at the gate. It was the first time since Wednesday night that she felt relaxed. Surely she was getting closer to Jared, and those who had followed her were far behind. Once in California, she would become even more secure with the new passport.

  Thinking of Carl waiting for her in L.A., and how he had sounded like Quentin Holbrooke on the phone, reminded Cassi of her promise to call her benefactor. She glanced at the pay phones and then fished in the side pocket of her case to find Quentin’s phone card next to the two credit cards Robert had given her.

  Sweeping up her suitcase and the wool jacket Jarelyn had insisted she take, Cassi crossed the aisle to the phones, put in the card, and dialed the numbers printed on the back. She heard a long series of clicking before the phone finally began to ring. Odd, but maybe Quentin was out on business and had his calls forwarded.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mr. Holbrooke, uh, Quentin.”

/>   “Cassi! I’m so glad you called. I’ve been worried.”

  “Well, I’m okay, but I’m afraid your car isn’t.”

  “What happened?”

  “Some people were chasing me, and I drove into a lake. I’m really sorry about the car. I’ll be responsible for it, of course. I feel just awful it happened.”

  “The important thing is that you’re safe,” Quentin said. To Cassi’s surprise, he didn’t sound angry. “Insurance will pay for the car. But where is it?”

  “Somewhere around St. George, I think.”

  “Utah?”

  “Yeah. I went to see my brother. He’s a police officer in Provo, but I’m flying out now. I’m following a lead.”

  “You found a lead? That’s great. Is there anything I can do on this end? Though I guess so far I haven’t been much help. No one I called knows anything.”

  “That’s okay. My brother will take care of it. He just dropped me off in Salt Lake City and is heading to his precinct.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line and then, “Given that fact that people seem to be following you, I hope he didn’t leave any information about your lead at his house.”

  “Oh, no. He wouldn’t want the children in danger.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Well, I just thought I should tell you about your car. I probably won’t call again until this is over.”

  “Keep the card just in case. When it’s all over, you and I will have dinner. You can bring your fiancé, of course.” Quentin’s voice sounded remorseful.

  “Thank you.”

  “Keep in touch.”

  “I will.” Cassi hung up the phone feeling a great relief about the car. Quentin hadn’t been angry at all. I guess there are some advantages to being wealthy, she thought, vowing that if she was ever in a position to help someone as Quentin had helped her, she would do so.

  The flight to Los Angeles was uneventful. At the airport, Carl greeted her and she was astonished at his appearance. He wore a tan shirt, brown dress pants, and a coordinating off-white blazer. He had cut his long, stringy brown hair and trimmed his droopy moustache, bringing out his best feature, his clear hazel eyes. His voice was still raspy and his thin body imprisoned in his wheelchair, but there was a contentedness that radiated from him.