“I don’t know anyone in Scottsdale,” Hannah said. “Do you?”
Ethan scratched his chin, trying to think. Something tickled in the back of his mind. “It can’t be important if they didn’t leave a message, right?”
But the worry/tickle wouldn’t go away. Because he knew Desmond was originally from Arizona, on a whim, he decided to swing by the gallery on his way home from school. The door was unlocked, but Desmond wasn’t in his usual place on the seat behind the front desk.
“I bet he’s in the bathroom,” Hannah said.
Ethan dropped his hand on her bony shoulder. “Go and see if the light and fan are on and I’ll check the back room.”
Ethan bit his lip and pushed aside the curtain that divided the back office from the gallery’s showroom. No Desmond. Anger pulsed in Ethan’s chest. Because of shoddy security, they had already had one break-in and Ethan had lost one of his favorite pieces. Now this. Leaving the gallery unattended, even for a quick donut run, was stupid.
Hannah trotted up to him. “The light and fan are on in the bathroom. I didn’t want to knock and disturb him.”
Ethan sucked in a deep breath and chided himself. Everyone occasionally has to take a bio-break. He glanced at his watch. The moments ticked by and his apprehension grew. After another minute crawled away, he went to the bathroom and knocked on the door. “Desmond?”
No response.
He knocked harder. “Desmond? You in there?”
Hannah stood at his elbow, worrying at a hangnail.
“Sweetie,” Ethan said, “I’m going to open this door, but I want you to stay in the showroom in case anyone comes in. Can you do that?”
“But what if someonedoescome in?”
Ethan was more concerned about Hannah being with him when he opened the door and found Desmond with his pants down than he was about the threat of customers. He examined the doorknob. It was round and solid.
“Hey, I know,” Ethan said. “Can you go to the bakery and see if Bobby or Claire are working with Zoe today?”
“What if they are?”
“If Zoe’s free, ask her to come. Okay?”
Hannah gave him a look that told him she knew he was trying to get rid of her.
“There’s my button,” Ethan said, using the phrase he always pulled out when he wanted Hannah to do as he asked.
Hannah huffed and stomped away. After the bell on the door jingled and announced Hannah’s departure, Ethan went to find something he could use to remove the bathroom door.
He rifled through the contents of Desmond’s desk drawer—a stapler, sticky notes, pencils, a random key. He considered the key. Could it be to the bathroom? No, there hadn’t been a keyhole. Maybe it belonged to Desmond’s house. Or...he didn’t have time for speculation, so he left the key in the drawer and went to the break area to find a knife to use on the screws.
After a few minutes of fiddling with the door, he sat back on his heels wondering if he should call the police. He had no idea if Desmond was in the bathroom. For all he knew, Desmond was strolling down the street.
Maybe Desmond had an emergency kit inside his car. Most people did. Unfortunately, Ethan did not. The key in the desk drawer didn’t look like a car key, but Ethan picked it up anyway on his way out the door.
Desmond’s car was parked in the lot beside a shed. Ethan had never given the shed much thought, but now curiosity tickled the back of his neck. He shook it away. First things first. Find a screwdriver so he could take off the bathroom door.
Desmond’s car was locked. Unless he broke a window, he’d never know if Desmond had an emergency kit or not. But the shed...He slid the key into the doorknob and twisted. Light fell into the shed.
There on a shelf stood Harold and the rest of the stolen art.
Ethan was so angry he almost missed the tool kit standing in the shed’s corner. He grabbed it, relocked the door, and strode back into the gallery. If Desmond was still alive, Ethan was going to kill him.
It took just minutes to take the door off the hinges. There on the floor lay Desmond. Eyes closed, skin gray, lips blue, closer to dead than alive. Ethan’s vengeance faded and with shaky fingers he dialed emergency.
#
ZOE ONLY HALF-LISTENEDwhile Claire regaled her with romance woes. For such a large woman, Claire had an amazingly active love life. She was nearly as round as the donuts she was so fond of, but she moved with surprisingly swift grace, not only in the bakery when it was filled with hungry customers but also on the dance floor. But Claire stopped complaining about her last date as soon as Hannah blew in the bakery door.
