CHAPTER 12

Cassie swung into Olga’sdriveway and parked. This was her first pick-up since the incident, and she was feeling a little awkward.

“Come in, Cassandra!” she heard Olga call in response to her knock.

Cassie stepped inside the unlocked front door. Zack’s cluttered desk held the usual stacks of paperwork, but he was nowhere to be seen.

She walked past the desk and around the half-wall to enter Olga’s studio area. As always, Olga sat before a canvas. She wore a large, illuminated head-mount magnifier and held a tiny brush in her hand. “Just a second, beautiful,” she murmured, making infinitesimal strokes with the brush. “There!” she sat back in satisfaction. “They’ll never know I was here.” She turned to face Cassie with a broad smile and removed the headgear, clicking off the light.

Cassie hung back, unsure what to say.

“What is it?” Olga said, looking at Cassie with concern.

Cassie crossed the room and came to stand before her. “I just feel awful about what happened, Olga.”

Olga stretched out her hands toward Cassie. “Please don’t worry, darling,” she said. “It’s not your fault, and I’m sure the police will find the thief.”

“Maybe,” Cassie said. “But I want you to know I’m not giving up.” Then she looked around. “Where is Zack today?”

Olga waved a hand. “That man has never taken a sick day in the entire six months he’s worked for me. But he called to say he wasn’t feeling well.” She gave a dismissive shrug. “He wanted to stay home and rest today, and I encouraged him to do it. He really hasn’t been himself since the robbery.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cassie said.

“Everything will be better once that thief is caught,” Olga said, her blue eyes dark. Then her face brightened. “Can you stay for tea?”

Cassie smiled. “Sure! You’re my last call of the day, so I have a little flexibility.”

Olga clapped her hands together in delight. She rose and got behind her walker, unlocking the wheels. “I’ll prepare it.”

Like everything else with Olga, brewing tea was an art. She made it in the traditional Russian method. She boiled water in her ornate, polished silver samovar. Cassie watched as she heaped spoonfuls of rich, dark tea leaves into a teapot and then filled it with the boiled water. She sat the teapot on top of the samovar to steep and rolled over to a minifridge to pull out a jar of raspberry jam.

“You know,” Olga said, “I must confess, I am frustrated that the police don’t have any real leads yet.”

“You know we found the truck that was used in the robbery though, right?” Cassie said, sitting at the round dining table in the bumped out section of the room. Floor to ceiling windows on three sides offered tranquil views of the gently rolling hills behind the house.

Olga dropped a dollop of the jam in the bottom of each elaborately painted porcelain teacup. She then filled each one half full with the rich, dark brew from the teapot. “Yes, but I believe the thief’s trail has gone cold from there.” Olga’s brows came together as she contemplated this.

“Unfortunately, that’s true,” Cassie agreed.

Olga diluted the tea in both cups with freshly boiled water from the samovar, then set the cups on the seat of her walker and rolled them over to where Cassie sat. Cassie took them and placed them on the table for her while Olga parked her walker and took the chair across from Cassie. Her soft silver hair was pulled back in her traditional French twist, and her makeup was as impeccable as ever. Her lively blue eyes, however, were dark with worry.

“Please don’t stress over this, Olga, Cassie said. Then to distract her, “Tell me about what you’re working on right now.”

Olga’s face brightened again. “A fascinating project!” she said. “But first, let’s try our tea.”

They both lifted the delicate cups to their lips and sipped. Cassie enjoyed its distinctive smoky flavor mingled with the rich raspberry perfume of the jam.

“Ahhh,” Olga closed her eyes in bliss. “Admit it, Cassandra. Tea from my samovar is so much better than your traditional American tea, yes?

“Yes.” Cassie smiled at her, then waved a hand toward the painting Olga had been working on. “Now, tell me about this.”

Cassie’s attempts to distract Olga were successful, as the older woman launched into an animated explanation of the challenge behind restoring the Renaissance-period oil painting she was working on. She explained that the gesso layer—a white chalk layer used to prime the oak panel before painting—had begun to split. She’d had to stabilize the lifting gesso by carefully injecting adhesive between it and the wood. Now she was working to infill and repaint the small chips and losses along the cracks and outside edges.

Olga took another deep swallow of her tea, then surprised Cassie by saying, “As much as I love my work, Cassandra, I’m thinking it may be time to retire.”

“What?” Cassie exclaimed. “But you love what you do!”

“True, but I’m not getting any younger.” She tipped her chin toward her walker. “I know this is only temporary while I heal from my hip replacement, but the truth is, I want to travel more. And I want to enjoy looking at art around the world, instead of always working on it.” She smiled.

“I guess I can understand that,” Cassie said, taking the final sip of her tea. She picked up both of their empty cups and walked over to rinse them in the kitchen sink.

“Of course, retirement will have to wait until I can increase my savings a bit more,” Olga said with a sigh, a shadow crossing her lovely face. “And losing that piece of artwork certainly didn’t help me. I hope I don’t lose any of my regular clients over it.” She looked worried again, and Cassie felt frustrated at her own impotence in the situation.

She crossed back to Olga and knelt beside her chair. “I meant what I said, Olga. I know the police are working on your case. But I’m investigating this on my own as well. And I won’t give up until we find your package.” Although she had no idea how she’d do it, Cassie was determined that she would make good on her promise.

Cassie experienced a strong feeling of déjà vu as she pulled out of Olga’s driveway and began the drive to the airport with Olga’s latest package. Even though she wasn’t driving a company van today, she was on high alert, checking her mirrors over and over again to ensure she wasn’t being followed. She exhaled as she came to the stop sign at the corner where Lakeside Latté stood, unaware that she’d been holding her breath.

She saw the coffee shop door swing open and a bespectacled young man with cropped brown hair came out, holding a coffee carrier with two cups in it.

She frowned. What was Zack doing out and about when he told Olga he was too sick to come into work?

She watched as he set the coffee carrier inside his car. She turned the corner and in her rearview mirror, saw him pull out into traffic.

Zack was a couple of cars behind her as they drove toward Main Street. At the light, she moved into the left turn lane that would carry her through town, and so did he. The light changed and the line of cars in her lane flowed onto Main Street. Cassie moved over to the right lane and averted her head slightly, allowing the two cars, followed by Zack’s car, to pass her on the left.

She checked the clock in her car. She still had leeway time to make it to the airport before the plane that Olga’s package needed to be on took off. So, she made a snap decision and shifted back into the left lane. Keeping a car between her and Zack, she followed him out of town.

He traveled for a couple of miles. Then, just outside of town, he slowed down, coming to a stop in a small gravel parking lot near the entrance to the Whispering Pines hydroelectric power plant. Cassie followed the car that remained between them, driving past where Zack had stopped. There was a small party store several yards ahead on the opposite side of the road. Cassie pulled in and parked. Then she angled her rearview mirror so that she had a clear view of Zack’s car. She sat and waited, watching him.

A few moments later, a black SUV pulled up beside him and parked. Keeping her head low, Cassie spun in her seat and pulled out her phone. She focused on Zack as he got out of his car with the coffees and walked toward the SUV. She snapped a few photos of him before he got into the passenger side of the SUV.

She tried zooming in on the driver of the SUV, but it was so far away that the image was too grainy for a clear picture. She thought it looked like a woman, though. Zack and the SUV driver sat together talking for several minutes and drinking their coffee. At one point, she saw Zack making broad gestures with both hands, then he pounded a fist on the dashboard. After several more minutes of discussion, Zack got out and walked quickly back to his car. This time, he held a large manila envelope. Cassie snapped a few more quick pictures before Zack climbed into his car. He started his engine and turned back toward town while the SUV shot up the road in the opposite direction.

What the heck was Zack up to? And who was he meeting with?

She watched Zack go and badly wanted to follow him. But in order to make it to the airport in time to ship Olga’s package, she needed to leave now. With a huff of frustration, she pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the highway.

As she drove, she wondered if what she’d witnessed was in any way connected with the theft. But that didn’t make sense. For as much as she knew of Zack, she agreed with the assessment of him that Olga had given the police. He’d always seemed to be an honest, hard worker. Besides, as Olga had pointed out, it made no sense for Zack to steal the painting. He worked with way more valuable items than the stolen painting had been.

It briefly crossed her mind to mention what she’d seen to Wade and Hugo, but then she dismissed the idea. Except for playing hooky from work, he hadn’t technically done anything wrong. At least as far as she knew. She decided she would simply keep an extra close eye on him for now.