Part 57 (2/2)
”What of Ames?”
”He wasn't there.”
”Did you get the name of the gift shop?”
”Yep. Mary's Crafts and Gifts. On Magazine Street.”
”Let's go,” Meredith said. ”Perhaps they might know something about Holly.”
DeWitt shook his head. ”I'm going to probate court, see if I can't find the wills of Judge Matthews's father and mother. It's a long shot, but I'm with you. I can't figure out anything other than money that would cause Matthews to risk everything. Then I plan to go through all our files on him and the good senator. Maybe I can pick up some oddity.”
Dom stood. ”I have to go to the shelter and make sure the kids understand what's happening. Then I'm with you.”
”Tonight,” Gage said. ”Let's meet at, say, nine.”
DeWitt nodded. ”Where?”
”At a shack I own not far from here. Can you drive down here again?”
”Give me the directions.”
Gage wrote them down. ”Honk your horn when you arrive. We might be a little cautious.”
DeWitt raised one eyebrow, nodded, then left without saying anything else.
Gage and Meredith reached Mary's Crafts and Gifts just before closing time.
They both browsed, then approached the middle-aged woman at the desk. ”Are you Mary?” Meredith asked.
”Yes,” the woman said. ”Mary Sartain. Can I help you?”
”I saw a metal sculpture that someone bought here. It was a dancing pig for a garden. I was hoping you might have another.”
”That must be Holly's work,” Mary said. ”I don't have any in stock now. Couldn't keep them in. She made only a few a month.”
Meredith didn't have to feign disappointment. ”Do you know where else I can look?”
The woman looked as she was trying to make up her mind about something, then shrugged. ”I haven't seen her recently. Perhaps two months or so. But I did see something on a website that looked familiar. Perhaps if you give me your name, I can order one for you.”
”Would you mind sharing the website with me?” Meredith said. ”Of course I would pay you for your trouble.”
”It's not that. It's ...”
”What?” Meredith said.
”It's probably not her work at all. I got the impression her husband didn't like her selling her work. Someone else was in here....”
”Who?”
”I don't know. But he was looking for her, too.”
”Do you know where she is?” Gage had entered the conversation. He started to pull out his wallet. Stopped.
Meredith knew he had been about to show his badge. But he didn't have one now. Because of her.
The woman shook her head. ”No.”
”Did you tell him about the website?”
”I didn't like the way he looked,” she said. ”I did not.”
Meredith decided to tell the truth. It was the only way they were going to get information. ”I'm her sister. I'm looking for her. I have reason to believe she might be in grave danger.”
”But surely her husband ...”
In for a penny, in for a pound. She didn't have time to be nice. ”He might be part of the problem.”
The woman looked at both of them. Meredith took a card from her purse. ”I'm Meredith Rawson. This is Detective Gage Gaynor with the police department. We really need your help.”
”You do have her eyes,” Mary said. Yet she still hesitated.
Meredith liked the fact she was trying to protect Holly. There must be something about her sister that people liked, that they wanted to protect.
Finally the woman seemed to make up her mind. She turned on the computer on her desk. ”I regularly check out new craft sites,” she said. ”I'm always looking for something new, unique. Holly's art was that. Whimsical and fun. I can't be sure this is hers, but it has a certain style that I would almost swear is her work.”
She turned the screen so Meredith could see it. Special Things. The address was in Bisbee, Arizona. She stared at a display of items called Garden Folk.
”Is there anything about the artist?” Meredith asked.
”No, I already checked. No information available.”
She and Gage looked at each other.
”Thank you,” she said, and preceded Gage out of the shop. She felt jumpy all of a sudden, restless and expectant. After all that had happened, she might finally have a solid lead. The look Gage had given her said he felt it, too.
”We can fly out later tonight,” she said.
”Not from New Orleans,” he countered.
”Surely you don't think...”
”I don't know what to think,” Gage said. ”If Judge Matthews is involved, he has tentacles in every parish in Louisiana and every part of government. He's a kingmaker in this state.”
”Then where?”
”We'll drive to Birmingham and catch a flight from there.”
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