Devious

Book 5: On the Run International Mysteries

by Sara Rosett

Genres: Amateur Sleuth; International Crime & Mystery; Cozy Mystery; Female Sleuths; Crime & Mystery

Synopsis

Why steal a not-so-valuable painting?

Free-spirited Zoe Andrews has settled into married life and feels she has found her ideal niche working for a company that discreetly recovers lost items for elite clients, but her first assignment, which takes her to Edinburgh to recover a stolen painting, turns out to be more complicated than she expected.

Instead of simply getting in touch with contacts in the art world, Zoe finds herself tangled in a web of contradictions. Why would someone steal a not-so-valuable painting, and why was the thief attacked? Zoe’s search to find answers takes her from the ancient stone walls of Edinburgh Castle to the Baroque grandeur of Salzburg as she delves into a decades old mystery with ties to the present. 

Release date: July 23, 2015

Publisher: Sara Rosett

Print pages: 266

Sample

Chapter 1

 

 

THE CROWDS SHIFTED, AND ZOE lost sight of the man in the black shirt. She dodged to the left around a mom pushing a stroller and spotted the man again as he stepped onto one of the escalators in the mall. Zoe immediately reduced her pace and slipped into a store blasting pop music near the base of the escalator. She strolled along a table of sweaters near the front of the store, keeping an eye on the escalator through the large windows. She lingered beside a mannequin, but focused her attention out the window.

 

It was easy to keep him in sight as he rose up the escalator. She pushed down the urge to leave the store and made herself wait. He was hemmed in between two groups, and Zoe could only see a bit of his shirt and his wavy brown hair as the escalator traveled higher. As he neared the top, he turned, his gaze running over the people on the escalator below him, then his head swiveled as he widened his survey to include all of the marble tiled area of the lower level. Zoe held her position, knowing that the mannequin shielded her. She squinted as she watched him and thought she saw a grin turn up the corners of his mouth. He whipped around, pushed his way through the group in front of him, then ran up the last few steps to the top of the escalator.

 

Zoe dropped the sweater and quickly strode out of the store. She hit the bottom step of the escalator and took the rest of the steps two at a time, muttering, “excuse me,” as she raced around people standing still. Zoe throttled back on her speed as she neared the top and rode the last few feet up the escalator behind a rather ample woman, using the woman as a screen from the wide-open stretch of space at the exit of the escalator. Her heart hammering, not from the sprint up the stairs, but from the rush of the chase, Zoe scanned the upper level of the mall…but didn’t see him anywhere.

 

She muttered under her breath as she stepped away from the escalator and moved to a kiosk selling coffee. He had to be here somewhere. He couldn’t have gone far. She made a quick circuit of all the nearest stores, ducking in and out of a luggage store, a shoe store, and a Bath and Body Works. Those were the closest stores and none of them had dressing rooms…where could he have gone? It hadn’t taken her that long to get up the escalator. She should have seen him, if he’d sprinted away or gone into one of the clothing stores that were positioned farther away from the escalator.

 

Her instinct was to take off, running to the farther stores, but she didn’t do it. When you’re tailing someone, it’s not always about speed. Jack had said that to her last time when she’d lost the person she was following. Zoe turned in a quick circle. Just one more look. That’s when she saw it. A narrow corridor that branched off the main area with a tiny sign above it that read, RESTROOMS.

 

Now it was Zoe’s turn to smile. She took a seat in a group of chairs near the coffee kiosk, turned toward the hallway. Her heart rate had returned to normal by the time the man emerged from the restroom.

 

He looked directly at her, a wide smile splitting his face. “Well done.” He dropped into a chair beside her.

 

“Thanks, Jack.” Zoe couldn’t quite keep the smugness out of her tone. “Clever, going in the restroom.”

 

“Yes, but you caught it. I didn’t see you at all on the escalator.”

 

“See, I have been paying attention. You’re a good teacher.”

 

Jack’s silvery blue eyes twinkled, which punctured Zoe’s exhilaration. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like you won this round. You didn’t. I tailed you the whole way, and when you tried to give me the slip, I caught you.”

 

“Yes, but you’ve got one more thing to learn.”

 

“Not more car surveillance. We did that all last week. I don’t want to spend another hour in the car.”

 

“Just be glad it’s January, not July.”

 

“Yes, that would have been worse,” she said, thinking of sweltering summers in Dallas. “Although, if I’d known exactly how boring your work could be, I might not have been so anxious to learn the ropes.”

 

Up until a few months ago, Zoe had juggled several part-time jobs, ranging from freelance copy editor to dog walker to virtual assistant, but recently she’d decided to shift away from those jobs after she and Jack had an interesting encounter during a trip to Rome last year. They had met Harrington Throckmorton, an insurance man with the reputable and well-known Millbank and Proust Company. Harrington was planning to take early retirement then open his own insurance investigation firm. He had asked both Zoe and Jack to work for him as consultants. Zoe had jumped at the chance. Hopscotching from one temp job to the next had begun to lose its allure, and working with Harrington sounded interesting. Jack, who already had his own security consulting firm up and running, said working with Harrington would only increase their standing with clients.

 

Zoe and Jack had returned from Rome, and Zoe had expected a call from Harrington daily, but cutting ties with Millbank and Proust had taken longer than Harrington had anticipated. He got wrapped up in a complex case that took quite a while to finish, but two months ago he’d officially retired and began contacting Zoe with small commissions, mostly things that could be handled via computer.

 

Zoe figured that while she was waiting for a bigger assignment from Harrington it would be a good time to learn some of Jack’s special skills. He had what he termed a “varied” past, which included more than security work, and sometimes his consulting firm took on projects that were more than installing security systems or checking for weak points in existing systems. One of those special skills had been how to tail someone without being spotted. It wasn’t a skill she thought she needed, but life had taken some surprising turns recently, and there was more than one time that knowing how to do it would have come in handy. Jack had shown her how to tail someone both on foot and in a car, then he’d brought her along on one of his surveillance gigs.

 

“Oh, come on,” Jack said. “Sitting on a warehouse for three days couldn’t be any more boring than all those spreadsheets you used to do.”

 

“True,” Zoe admitted reluctantly. “But I was able to take a bathroom break whenever I wanted, something that I never truly appreciated.”

 

“Every job has its downsides. And monitoring that location will bring in a good chunk of cash.”

 

“Yes, the ability not to be overdrawn at the bank is a good thing.” For most of her life, Zoe’s bank balance had skated dangerously close to dipping into the red. “I hate to say this, but I’m beginning to understand why Helen was constantly nagging at me to get a steadier job. Having some cushion in our bank account is a strange and comforting feeling.” They had even been able to sock away some money in a savings account, a joint savings account. Her best friend, Helen, had never understood Zoe’s desire not to be tied down to one job. “But I shouldn’t call it nagging. I’m sure Helen thought of it as watching out for me.”

 

“How is Helen feeling?”

 

“Puking her guts out. The first trimester is rough. Her doc says if she can get through another four weeks, she’ll probably feel better.” Zoe checked her phone. “In fact, I should go. I’m taking her some soup today.”

 

“Before you go, there’s one more lesson for today.”

 

Zoe pulled her keys out of her pocket. “What? Don’t hit the bathroom when you’re on the run?”

 

“No. Always check behind you.” Jack looked over Zoe’s shoulder and nodded. “When you’re tailing someone, don’t be so focused on the person you’re following that you forget to check behind you for someone tailing you.”

 

Zoe swiveled around and groaned. Her friend Carla sat on a bench a couple of feet away, sipping from a coffee cup. She raised her cup, a salute, and grinned then came over to Zoe and Jack, her cowboy boots slapping on the marble floor. She plopped down on the chair on the other side of Zoe with a thunk that made her blond ponytail bounce. “That was fun.” She wrinkled her upturned nose at Zoe. “You didn’t even see me, did you?”

 

“No. At the very least, I should have heard the thud of those boots. Were you behind me all the time?”

 

“Every second. Most fun I’ve had since I found the backdoor into the First Bank and Trust system.”

 

With her swingy mohair sweater and skinny jeans, you’d never suspect Carla was one of the top computer security experts in the southwest.

 

A few bars of Smoke on the Water filled the air, and Carla pulled her phone out of her back pocket. “I have to go. More websites to hack, but let me know if you need me again, Jack.”

 

“I don’t think I will. Zoe is a quick study.”

 

“Yeah. I won’t make that mistake again,” Zoe said as Carla pounded away.

 

Jack stood. “Hey, you’re a kinesthetic learner—hands on.

 

You’ll remember that now, better than if I just told you.”

 

“Right. I’ll be so jumpy and skittish I’ll spend the whole time I’m tailing someone looking over my shoulder now. I’ll probably be so focused on what’s going on behind me that I’ll forget to keep an eye on the actual person.”

 

“I doubt that. Want a coffee?” “Sure.”

 

While they were waiting for their coffee, Zoe’s phone chimed. “It’s Harrington,” she said to Jack before answering. She put the phone to her ear. “Harrington, good to hear from you.”

 

“It is always lovely to hear your voice as well, Zoe,” Harrington said, and Zoe couldn’t help but smile. His perfect manners matched his polished British accent. “Do you have a few moments?”

 

“Yes, of course.” Jack handed Zoe her coffee, and they moved to the escalator.

 

“Excellent,” Harrington said. “I have a job for you, if you’re interested. The daughter of a family friend has contacted me with a request to recover a stolen painting. I’d handle it myself, but I’m currently involved in a rather delicate manner that involves Interpol and the Guardia Civil, and I can’t get away. I have a contact in the area where the painting was stolen. She should be able to help you run it down. Would you be interested?”

 

“Yes, of course. Where did the painting go missing from?” “Staircase House in Edinburgh. Would you be able to leave fairly soon? Time is of the essence with these things.” “How about tomorrow?”

 

“Excellent. I’ll have my assistant make the travel arrangements. I’m afraid I have a meeting in a few moments that I must attend. I can call you back in a few hours with all the details.”

 

“Sounds great. I’ll go pack and wait for your call back.”

 

Zoe ended the call and turned to Jack. “I’m going to Edinburgh.”

Chapter 2

 

 

ZOE TOSSED A RAINCOAT INTO her suitcase, then pulled it out again. “No, this should go on top, where I can get to it,” she murmured to herself, moving it to another pile on the bed.

 

Jack came out of the bathroom, carrying his shaving kit. “So Harrington called you back with the details?”

 

“Yes, just got off the phone with him a few minutes ago.” Zoe reached for her notepad. “The client is Poppy Foley, oldest daughter of the extremely wealthy Foley family. Harrington knew the father, Lorne, who recently passed away—just a few weeks ago. Harrington sounded pretty upset. He said they went to school together. A Victorian painting has gone missing after a break-in at their Edinburgh home, which tells you how well-off they are. They have a flat in London, the house in Edinburgh, and a country estate in Devon.”

 

“What’s the painting?”

 

“A small landscape painted by one of their ancestors.” Zoe consulted the paper. “Annabel Foley. It’s not a masterpiece or anything. It only has a sentimental value to the family. Poppy hired Harrington because she wants to make sure the painting is recovered, but she wants to keep the theft of it quiet. Her mother is still dealing with her father’s death, and Poppy wants to take care of this. Her mother has always been attached to the painting and would apparently take its loss hard.”

 

“Anything else missing?”

 

“Not according to Harrington, but he didn’t have much time. He’s sending me an email with all his notes.”

 

Zoe moved to the dresser. “This is going to work out perfectly. We can drive to the airport together tomorrow, and each take our separate flights.”

 

“Right.” Jack smoothed the folds of the umbrella down and swirled it in his hand, compressing the folds.

 

Something in his voice made Zoe look up from her drawer. “You’re okay with this, aren’t you?”

 

“Yeah, sure.” Jack fastened the little strip of Velcro that kept the umbrella furled.

 

Zoe crossed her arms, pressing a stack of long-sleeved T-shirts against her chest. “You don’t sound okay.”

 

Jack tossed the umbrella into one of the open suitcases, which rested on the bed between them. He ran his fingers through his hair. “No. It’s fine. You’ll go to Edinburgh. Harrington will put you in touch with his art dealer contact, and I’m sure you’ll get it taken care of. You’ll probably have the painting back in a few days.”

 

Zoe put the shirts in the suitcase then folded one leg under herself, sat down on the bed, and reached for a pile of socks. “I get it. You wish you were going.”

 

Jack had stepped into the closet and for a moment there was only the clatter of hangers then he stepped out, holding several dress shirts. “Of course, I wish I was going with you.” He dropped the shirts by his suitcase. “I just assumed that the first official case for Harrington would be a joint thing.”

 

“Well, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you going, especially if we paid for your airfare, but you have the conference in Houston. You can’t cancel.” Jack had been scheduled to give a presentation on physical and cyber security at a conference for small business owners for over a year.

 

“No, I can’t.” Jack’s face was tight. “I want to, but I can’t.”

 

Zoe dropped the socks she’d been matching. “Do you think I can’t do this?”

 

“No, of course not.” Jack left the shirts and came to sit beside her. “We work best together, that’s all. I’ve seen it these last few months.”

 

Zoe studied his face for a moment. “There’s a smidgen of worry there. I can see it.”

 

“I’d be worried about you, if you were staying here. I always worry about you.”

 

Zoe smiled and kissed him quickly. “I know. It’s a sweet quality you have, that you worry about me.”

 

“And you don’t worry enough.”

 

“No, you worry too much. I worry just the right amount. Do you want me to call Harrington back and tell him I can’t take the job?”

 

“No.”

 

“Good. Because I wouldn’t want to do that.”

 

“You’d do the job anyway, even if I didn’t want you to do it?” Jack said, a small smile on his face. “I know there’s no stopping you once you get going.”

 

“I could ask Harrington if I could delay a day or two, but time is of the essence. We’ll just have to be good together long-distance. We do have these things called phones, you know. Amazing tech. Lets you talk to someone as if they were in the room with you.”

 

Jack closed the distance between them. “But you can’t do this over the phone,” he said, dropping a few light kisses on her mouth.

 

“Then we better do as much of this while we can.”

 

Zoe tightened her seatbelt as the airplane began its descent. For most of the journey, there had only been inky blackness out the window, but now pinpricks of light, miles and miles of light, spread out below the plane, running up to the edge of the estuary with, in Zoe’s opinion, the best ever name for a body of water, the Firth of Forth. She’d spent the early part of the flight scanning the guidebook she’d brought along, going over the landmarks and layout of the city.

 

She glanced at the empty seat beside her. The confidence she had felt about handling the recovery of the painting on her own had faded. She and Jack had been inseparable for months, working in tandem, mostly on his projects, but they’d also taken to doing mundane tasks like cleaning the house and keeping up the yard together. It felt odd not to have him beside her for this new challenge, her first real case for Throck- morton Enquiries, Incorporated. She wanted to do a good job—do Harrington proud, but as she looked at those millions of lights, the enormity of the task settled on her. How could she find a single tiny painting among that huge city? And there was no guarantee the painting was still in Edinburgh either. What if it had been moved out of the city? The trail was several days old.

 

The pilot came on, announcing their descent, and a flurry of movement filled the cabin as people closed tray tables and shuffled their belongings under seats. Zoe gave herself a mental shake. Sure, it would be great if Jack could be here, but he couldn’t be, so she’d just have to do it on her own—as she had for so many years before she met Jack. She’d run down a few missing things, not to mention people, by herself. She’d give it her level best shot to make it happen again.

 

She turned her attention back to the window and enjoyed watching the tiny cars and minuscule roads grow larger. She’d always wanted to travel, and these last few months had brought several trips, which had allowed her to see some amazing sights. One of her steadier freelance gigs had been copy editing travel guide books for Smart Travel, and she’d always enjoyed reading about the tourist sites, traveling vicariously through her work, but now here she was in a new place. She’d never been to Scotland, and couldn’t wait to see it for herself. It didn’t matter how much you’d read about a place, the only way to truly know it was to experience it yourself.

 

After negotiating customs, Zoe emerged from the airport onto the slick wet pavement and signaled for a cab. It wasn’t raining at the moment, but the air felt thick and heavy with moisture. One of the neat black cabs similar to the ones she’d seen in London stopped beside her, and she gave the address of her hotel. Harrington hadn’t splurged for a business class ticket, but he had arranged for an extremely early check-in at the hotel. She gave the address and settled back to watch the city. Around the airport and for most of the drive, Edinburgh was a modern city, but a sign for the city center loomed, and then the cab moved into an area of cobblestoned streets and aged stone buildings.

 

Her hotel was in the heart of Edinburgh. Tall stone pillars framed the glass entrance doors, but inside, bright colors and curvy modern furniture dominated the lobby. The elevator was painted like one of Kate Spade’s bold rainbow striped handbags, and the walls in her room were painted in turquoise and violet. The bright colors and contemporary furniture seemed an odd mix with the old and historic buildings out the window. The first rays of sunrise were illuminating the rooftops. A padded envelope with her name in Harrington’s precise printing had been waiting for her at the front desk. Now that she was in her room, Zoe ripped it open.

 

“Wow.” A thick stack of twenty-pound notes filled the envelope. Zoe pulled out the single thick sheet of cream paper. For purchase of the painting, if needed. H. Sending cash made sense. If she located the painting, she might have to buy it back. They weren’t the police. Their focus wasn’t to catch the thief, only to find and return the painting. She and Harrington had discussed the moral ins-and-outs of their position at the dinner when he’d asked both her and Jack to work with him.

 

“The culprit is not our objective,” he’d said. “It is a nice dividend. Ideally, the successful conclusion of a case would involve both the recovery of the missing item and the capture of the guilty party.”

 

Such a large wad of cash made her a bit nervous. After she closed the envelope and stashed it in the room safe, she felt better. She whipped the curtains closed, took a shower, and set an alarm on her new phone for noon. Her appointments to meet with the client and with Harrington’s contact weren’t until that afternoon, so she could get a few hours of rest. She set her new phone down on the nightstand and crawled under the covers. When the security consulting business began to make a little money, the first thing Jack had done was buy Zoe a smartphone to replace her rather ancient flip phone. She had argued that she didn’t need it, but Jack had insisted that it was a business expense and that she needed it. After a few months of use, Zoe had to admit that it had plenty of handy features like the alarm, and having the Internet at her fingertips was a bonus. She dropped into bed and didn’t have a bit of trouble falling asleep.

 

By twelve-thirty, Zoe was bundled in her raincoat and had her umbrella tucked under her arm along with the directions to both the client’s house and Harrington’s contact. She walked toward the Royal Mile, the cobblestone road that cut through the center of historic Edinburgh. A few hours of deep sleep, coupled with a strong cup of coffee from the coffeemaker in her room had her feeling rejuvenated and ready to tackle the day. Even though it felt like morning to Zoe, the days were short this time of year, and the sun was already past its zenith and sliding toward the horizon. Her hotel was only a few blocks from the Royal Mile, Edinburgh’s oldest street. She knew she’d arrived when she saw the swinging pub sign for Deacon Brodie’s Tavern, which depicted the dual personalities of the man who had inspired Robert Louis Stevenson’s tale of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. One side of the sign showed a respectable colonial gentleman holding keys, which Zoe remembered from her guidebook reading, represented his job as a cabinet and lock installer. Zoe walked under the sign and looked up. The opposite side depicted him masked and holding a bag of loot. Using the keys he had access to through his work, Brodie became a thief, even organizing other criminals into gangs until he was caught and executed. Zoe read the gold plaque that described how he’d been hung on Edinburgh’s gallows.

 

The cold wind tugged at Zoe’s hair, swishing some strands of it around her face. She tucked her hair behind her ears and turned away from the tavern with a shiver that was only partly due to the frigid air. She stopped for a quick sandwich at a pub, then followed the directions Harrington had sent her and moved up the street toward Edinburgh Castle, which loomed ahead in the distance. Between the gothic arches, mullioned windows, and the many souvenir shops selling kilts, cashmere, and kitschy miniature replicas of the castle, small alcoves led from the main street to interior courtyards, or “closes” beyond the main street. Zoe found the one with a sign for John’s Close and followed the pointing arrow through the arched tunnel and emerged into a paved courtyard area with a single central light post. Houses three, four, and five-stories tall enclosed the sloping courtyard. Some of the houses were made of stucco and painted a mellow cream or gray, while others were built of brown and yellow stone.

 

Harrington had said, “Staircase House is the one with the turret. You can’t miss it.” The curved tower that dominated one of the smaller buildings did standout. Zoe checked the time. She was early, but she was here, so she crossed to the house. The curved turret, which was situated on one corner of the building, ran all the way from the ground floor and extended above the main roofline of the building. The turret was topped with a little spire on its roof. A door was set into the curved wall. Zoe found a bell and pressed. She waited, nodding to a few people who passed through the close. She rang the bell again and waited a few more minutes. There were a couple of windows set into the building low to the ground, in what must be a basement area, but they were barred and the interior was dark, so Zoe turned away. She’d have to return at the appointment time, in roughly an hour.