“It’s about the Winslow Homer canvas that’s usually at the top of the stairs. Do you know where it has gone?”
“Gone? It should still be there.”
“It disappeared sometime between midday yesterday and last night. I didn’t notice it was gone until one o’clock this morning. Hannah, Claire, and Mrs. Bennett don’t know where it is.”
Pat scowled. “I haven’t moved it. Have you checked the other rooms upstairs?”
“Not yet. I’ll wait until everyone’s awake before having a look.”
“Do you think this has got anything to do with the wallet you found?”
Brett didn’t know what to think. “It seems like too much of a coincidence. The email Dave received was bad enough. If his dad’s gambling buddies want his debts paid, then the painting would be a good place to start.”
“They wouldn’t be that foolish. No reputable auction house would touch a painting that had no ownership papers. They’d never be able to sell it.”
“There’s always the black market.”
Pat rubbed his hand across his eyes. “We’ll search the house this morning. If we can’t find the painting, we’ll contact the police.”
“You might want to hold off on calling the police.”
“Why?”
Brett didn’t want to say the next words, but he had no choice. “I’d like to speak to Dave and Thomas before we go to the police.”
“You think they might know where the painting has gone?”
“I’m not sure. But if they do, they’ll need to make things right. They won’t be able to do that if they go to jail.”
Pat stood and joined Brett in the middle of the room. “I won’t tell Ida. It will break her heart to know someone stole the painting from our home.”
Brett nodded. “Hopefully, it’s still here.”
“I hope so, too.” Pat looked across the room as Dave’s brothers rushed into the room.
“Good morning, Mr. McConachie,” Jeremiah said in his serious, seven-year-old’s voice. “Mrs. Bennett wants you to know that breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes.”
Abel stepped in front of his brother. “She’s making pancakes. They smell good.”
“I’m looking forward to it already,” Pat said in an equally serious tone.
Brett looked at the boys. “Is your mom awake?”
“Mom’s having a shower,” Abel said. “But she’ll be downstairs soon. Do you want to talk to her?”
“I’d like that very much. But for now, I’m going to check the attic for something.”
“Can we help?” Jeremiah asked.
Pat walked toward the living room door. “Not today, but you could come with me to see Mrs. Bennett. She might have some strawberries left over from yesterday.”
“Yum.” Abel licked his lips. By the looks of things, he had already tasted the sweet, out-of-season fruit.
Pat sent Brett a quick smile. “Let me know if you find anything.”
“I will.” If Brett thought yesterday was hard, today would be worse. He needed to find the missing painting. Otherwise, everyone who had been on the ranch would be under suspicion.
