“Not something I’m ever likely to know about,” Ben replied. “Do you think anyone is going to come after the window?”
Erik grimaced. “I hope not. The property and building are heavily warded and so is the safe. If you didn’t notice with the storm, there was a police car outside last night, and I’m guessing it will be there again tonight. I think there’s been a plainclothes officer stationed nearby all day. Hendricks said he’d have someone watching. I’d just send the damned window to the folks in Charleston to get rid of, but Hendricks said we couldn’t.”
“Any news from Susan?” Ben switched subjects.
“Plenty about the Awesome Autumn Festival, but nothing else,” Erik replied. “They want more ghost stories, so we’re supposed to weave that in. And stuff about pirates, if it applies.”
Cape May was said to be one of the most haunted towns on the East Coast, and had once been a haven for pirates, so both fit with the darker side of a resort otherwise known for its chill vibe.
“I saw the email. Monty’s going to have his hands full with all the events around the lighthouse and the concrete ship and the watch tower,” Ben said. “I know the festival is for a good cause and raises a lot of money for charity, but it’s a lot of work for everyone.”
“I also asked Susan to take a couple of days off because of the creepy window thing. If someone does try to steal it or attack us, I don’t want her to become a target.”
“Good idea. I’m surprised Hendricks hadn’t already lobbied her to stay home,” Ben replied.
Erik chuckled. “Maybe he did, but Susan definitely makes up her own mind about these things.”
“I’m hoping nothing will happen, but I’m glad she’ll be safe,” Ben agreed.
“We’ve only got a couple of hours until closing time,” Erik said. “I’m curious to see if anyone suspicious comes in. It’s a shame Hendricks can’t accept evidence from ghosts. Not that he’d believe us anyhow.”
To Ben’s relief, the rest of the day passed quietly. He continued his research into the dead men’s criminal history, and Erik did a deep dive into the lore of Tiffany windows on his computer downstairs.
“Here.” Ben handed Erik a small bottle of orange juice and a candy bar. “You look like roadkill.”
“You say the nicest things.” Erik accepted the snacks gratefully. “Doing the read on the window took a lot out of me. I’m impressed that Alessia held up so well.”
“I’m leaning into the theory that the book is a grimoire and the man was a witch,” Erik added. “Putting the box back into the safe was like closing a door. The dark vibes shut off immediately.”
“Good. Leave it there until we can get help,” Ben replied. “I think we’re going to need a team for this. At least we know a little more than when we started.”
“Answers and more questions,” Erik said. “Like always.”
Ben went to check his computer when it pinged. “Got a few more hits,” he reported.
“Anything good?”
Ben paused to read through the notices. “The old guy who was the Wildwood collector was Grant Samuels. Thanks to money, lawyers, and friends in high places, he doesn’t have a criminal record, but there are notes about his questionable associates,” Ben said. “No one comes right out and calls him a witch, but the comments mention that he had exceptional people skills and seemed able to overcome any opposition.”
“Right. That means he either used magic or killed people who posed a problem. Maybe both,” Erik interpreted the deliberately vague description.
“That’s what I get out of it,” Ben agreed. “For Reynolds and Bellamy, it’s a different story. ‘Known Mafia associates’ shows up in both their records. They’ve got a history with shady auctionhouses that might be fronts for organized crime. After all, it’s a largely cash business.”
“Sounds like the Mob’s kind of thing,” Erik said. “Anything else?”
“They both had arrests on suspicion of money laundering, but the charges were dropped,” Ben read aloud. “Otherwise, they’re clean, not even parking tickets.”
“If they were useful to someone in the Mafia, getting charges dropped isn’t hard,” Erik remarked. “I’m guessing that some of the town’s prior police chiefs weren’t as upstanding as Chief Hendricks.”
Ben shrugged. “That might explain why he’s such a tight-ass. Trying to make sure no one thinks he’s cut from the same cloth.”
“We both know Susan would whip his butt,” Erik replied with a laugh.
Ben glanced at his watch. “I think we’ve done enough for one day.” He closed down his laptop. “Tomorrow, I want to see what else I can dig up on who some of those ‘known Mafia associates’ were and see if that leads anywhere.”
“I need to look into this mysterious Tiffany dome and see what I can come up with,” Erik agreed. “Something that significant must have sparked interest from the art world as well as the press. It would have been a large installation. Maybe I can get an idea of who might have been unusually interested in it.”
Ben rose from the table. “How about we make some nachos and watch another movie? Then I’ll suck your brains out your dick and you won’t worry about mobsters anymore tonight.”
