The Secret: A High Desert Cozy Mystery

Book 14: High Desert Cozy Mystery Series

by Dianne Harman

Genres: Mystery; Cozy Mystery

Synopsis

The clients of his antique shop, some of the wealthiest people in Palm Springs, often confide their most private secrets to him. But some secrets can turn out to be deadly, and that's when the death threats begin.

Were they because he told a disbelieving and angry customer that her expensive antique was a fake and worth next to nothing? The dealer who sold it to her was furious with Carl when her customer told her what he'd said. But maybe that wasn't the reason for the threats. Maybe it was just Carl's time.

And then there was Carl's quirky habit of putting expensive dresses and jewelry on Miss Simone, his spoiled little maltipoo dog. That sure didn't sit well with the macho president of the Palm Springs Pit Bull Society, who was in Carl's shop when he saw Carl's dog and the over-the-top costume she was wearing. He thought doing that to a dog was criminal. Criminal enough that he'd threaten to commit murder?

And what about Carl's adult daughter? A daughter he never knew he had. Maybe he should have realized that turning down her plea to establish a father-daughter relationship wasn't a very good idea.

Fortunately, Carl's friend, Marty, has solved a lot of murder mysteries. But can she help him before the death threats become a reality? And it sure is nice to have a dog and a sister with psychic powers, along with a husband who's a Palm Springs Police Detective.

This is the 14th book in the High Desert Cozy Mystery Series by a USA Today Bestselling Author. Download now and start reading!

Release date: March 30, 2021

Print pages: 179

Sample

CHAPTER ONE

 

 

Bambi Escobar looked at Carl Mitchell in astonishment. “Surely, you’ve made a mistake. It can’t be a fake,” she said. “When Jeremy found out I was going to have his baby, he bought it for me, and then asked me to marry him. This is the first chance I’ve had to get the Picasso appraised since I moved to Palm Springs from Los Angeles. You’ve got to be wrong.”

“I’m sorry Ms. Escobar. Believe me, telling someone that their Picasso is a fake is not high on my list of things that I like to do,” Carl, the owner of the Palm Springs Antique Shop, said.

“Well, you’re wrong. Look, here’s the certificate of authenticity,” she said belligerently as she shoved a piece of paper at Carl.

He looked at it and said, “Ms. Escobar, this Los Angeles gallery is well-known in the appraisal circles for passing fakes off as originals. And yes, as part of their selling pitch, they promise buyers they will provide them with a certificate of authenticity. It isn’t worth the paper it’s written on.”

She looked at him with her hands on her hips and said in a loud voice, “It’s real easy for you to stand there and tell me it’s a fake, but you haven’t provided me with a shred of evidence. What makes you such an expert?”

“Ms. Escobar, when you first contacted me, I sent you my resumé. I previously worked at several galleries in the Los Angeles area, one of which specialized in Pablo Picasso art. I had hundreds of his pieces pass through my hands, everything from prints to ceramics, because he worked in several mediums. My credentials to appraise his work are unquestionable. 

“I’d be happy to give you references attesting to my expertise in that area. All of the galleries in the Palm Springs area use me to authenticate their Picasso pieces. As a matter of fact, I believe that you were referred to me by Kathy Duncan. She owns several Picasso works, and I’ve appraised all of them. Hers are originals.”

“So now you’re going to tell Kathy that Jeremy gave me a fake Picasso. Do you know what that will do to my reputation in this town? And since I just moved here from Los Angeles to be with Jeremy and marry him, this will ruin his social standing. 

“You need to look at it again. You only spent a minute or two doing that, and I can’t believe you can tell that something is a fake when you barely took any time at all to look at it,” Bambi said.

“Ms. Escobar, first of all, Picasso usually underlined his name. Secondly, his signature was always at a slight angle. And thirdly, he consistently used the same proportion for spacing the letters of his name. As you can see, this signature fails on all three of those identifying characteristics. 

“I’m sure if I spent some time looking at it, I could find other things, but appraisers who are familiar with Picasso’s work, always start with that. There’s no point in looking at anything else,” Carl said.

Bambi looked at him for some time, and then she said angrily, “I’m calling my fiancé, don’t leave.” 

She walked over to the coffee table in the great room where her phone was, picked it up, and pressed favorites. A moment later, she said, “Why did you give me a fake Picasso?”

The volume on her phone was turned up quite loud, and Carl could hear a male voice answer her. “What are you talking about? Why would you say something like that?”

“As if you didn’t know, you fake. You’re just as fake as this Picasso which the appraiser assures me is one. You thought I’d move to Palm Springs, marry you, and have your baby if you told me the fake you bought me was an authentic Picasso. That it would impress me, so I’d finally agree to come to this miserable place and marry you. This is just pathetic.” 

“Wait a minute, Bambi, what appraiser? We never talked about having the Picasso appraised.”

“We may not have talked about it, but it’s been on my mind for a while. I think I knew something was off with it. Guess we’ll have to make a deal. I’ll keep my mouth shut about you doing this, but I’ll be gone by the time you get home, and so will your unborn baby. My attorney will be contacting you about the trauma this has caused me, you cheap loser.”

As Bambi slammed the phone down, Carl could hear the male voice saying, “Bambi, wait. I’m with a client and as soon as he leaves, I’ll be home.” Bambi didn’t bother to answer him.

She turned to Carl and said, “What do I owe you?”

“Three hundred dollars if you want a written appraisal, if not, two hundred would be fine,” he said.

“Here,” she said as she opened her purse, took out her checkbook, and wrote him a check for two hundred dollars. “You can see yourself out. I need to pack and leave.” With that, Bambi hurried down the hall.

Carl looked down at the check and saw that the name at the top of the check was Jeremy Lyons. As the primo gossipmonger in Palm Springs, Carl had often heard that name. Jeremy Lyons was one of the most successful attorneys in the Palm Springs area. From what Carl had heard over the years, he’d been married twice, but never had children.

Carl remembered hearing something about him desperately wanting children, because his father had specified that Jeremy was to inherit his estate only if he had children and was married to the mother of the child or children. He imagined Jeremy would be pretty upset when he came home and found that Bambi had carried out her threat and left him, along with his unborn child, the ticket to his inheritance.

As he was driving back to his shop, Carl idly wondered if what he’d been told about Jeremy wanting children was true, and what he’d be willing to do to get Bambi back, so he could have his child and his inheritance. 

He also wondered if Jeremy had known the Picasso was a fake, hoping to impress Bambi with it, without having to spend the money required for an authentic Picasso.