The Children's Corner
Chapter 52
The elbow Rick jams against his nose blocks but scarcely muffles his sneeze. Kate looks up from her file. "Gesundheit! Wow, your eyes are getting red too."
"Yeah, I think I'm allergic to something that got into these files. Back when Mother had friends that dared to smoke around her, cigarette smoke set me off, too, especially in the summer. But I can deal with that long enough to tell you what I've found.
"Prints O'Plenty doesn't have the turnover rate I'd expect in a strip mall store. The staff is mostly art students. They come and stay for a few years until they graduate, hopefully, to pick up jobs in the more serious art world. But there were two new hires last month, and neither one is a college student. One's previous employment was at a pet store. The other one worked at an animal shelter. That would suggest they both have a high level of sympathy for animals. I think we should concentrate on them."
"We should start with them, anyway," Kate agrees. "Let me see the files." Rick pushes two folders across the conference table. "Hmm. Amy Stow from an animal shelter and Stockard Maitland from a pet store. Both women. Not what I was expecting."
Rick flutters his eyelashes. "I will resist the urge to say 'I told you so.'"
"A little premature to put a torch in their hands, isn't it?" Kate throws back. "We haven't even talked to them yet."
Rick's eyes flick to the wall clock. "Unfortunately, Kate Quixote will have to carry out that interrogation without her faithful retainer. I need to go pick up Lily. But keep me updated."
Kate shrugs but grins. "If I remember."
Still in her pajamas, Amy Stow opens the door of her tiny apartment. "I apologize for not being dressed. I've been searching the web for a new job."
Kate nods. "I understand. When something like that fire happens, it pulls the rug out from under you. But I was hoping you could help me figure out who might have set the blaze."
Amy's mouth gapes. "Someone set it? I thought it was an accident, bad wiring, or something. And that poor woman who died! Who would want to burn down Prints O'Plenty?"
"I was hoping you could tell me. Did anyone there, maybe a customer or someone you worked with, make any nasty comments about the artwork?"
"A few customers thought we were charging too much for it. But everyone complains about prices in New York."
"You sold a lot of prints with animals on them, didn't you?" Kate queries.
"Yeah, we did. A lot of people wanted them for their kids' rooms. A few customers bought them for their dogs or cats. And there was one lady who thought a picture of a Saint Bernard would keep her's company while she was at work. I thought that was a little strange. Where would you keep a hulk like a Saint Bernard in New York City? You'd have to have a mansion or an estate or something. And someone who had that could afford real paintings, not just prints. But then people get weird about their pets."
"Weird how?" Kate presses. "Did someone else say something to you?"
"I guess. Stockard, she works – worked – in the back, doing matting and stuff. She said the animals in the prints didn't look real. She thought they made people think their pets were toys that they could throw away when they got tired of them. Cray-cray, huh? That's like thinking our customers would expect their dogs to act like Scooby-doo. Ruh-roh!"
"Did Stockard ever mention doing anything about that?" Kate probes.
"Not that. Just that she wouldn't have to put up with those prints much longer. We've both only been working at the store a little while. So I figured she meant she made a mistake taking the job and would look for one somewhere else. Do you think she was talking about putting a match to the place? That would be really cray-cray."
"As a cop, I hear crazier things all the time," Kate offers. "And she could just have been venting. But I'll hear what she has to say."
"Good luck with that, Detective."
Kate hands Amy her card. "If you think of anything else that might help, give me a call."
"I'll do that, Detective. I hope you catch whoever did it."
"I do too."
"Mama!" Lily exclaims as soon as Kate comes through the loft's door. "Look at my bunnies!"
Kate studies the generous sheet of easel roll paper her daughter holds in front of most of her body. "Those look great! I can almost see them hopping around. But what happened to painting doggies?"
"The school got bunnies, and I wanted to paint them instead. They're soft and pretty, and our class is going to take care of them. Miss Bambi showed us a book all about them and let me give them some lettuce. She said they like it better than carrots. And they can't hold carrots like Bugs Bunny does. They don't talk like he does either. They just chew a lot."
"Sometimes quiet is nice," Kate suggests.
"It is with Jake and Reese," Lily agrees. "Julia's going to help me put my picture up in my room. And Daddy said we'd have supper after you got here. He made chicken, but it's not nuggets. It's the whole thing. He put some red stuff on it. He said it was pap-papri…."
"Paprika?"
"Right, paprika."
As Lily bounds away, Rick pops out of his office. "I see our daughter has been filling you in on our afternoon's activity and her new furry fascination. How did your day go after I took off? Who did you interview, and what did they spill?"
"Amy Stow. And she practically wrapped Stockard Maitland up in a bow."
"Stow and bow. That almost scans. What did she say?"
"She gave me a rundown of Stockard's behavior – made her sound like just the kind of nutbar we're hunting."
"You didn't believe her?"
"Some things didn't track. Amy apologized for being in her pajamas. But I could see she had a T-shirt underneath. It would have taken her two seconds to pull on a pair of jeans. I think she was trying to look distraught."
"Or she likes wearing T-shirts under her pajamas. I used to do that when I was cold in the winter. Before your heat flowed through my veins, of course."
"Of course. But Babe, it's September. And it's barely been below 70 the past 24 hours. And the pajamas aren't all. Amy told me Stockard was crazy, twice. Yet she claimed she thought the fire was an accident."
"So Stow with a bow was pure as the snow and pitched patties from the stockyard at Stockard."
Kate giggles. "That about covers it. But I'm going to talk to Stockard tomorrow. Amy might have been telling the truth. But in case she wasn't, I put a surveillance team on her. If she tries to take off, I'll have her brought in. But I'm betting she believes I bought her story and stays right where she is."
"Which would mean that we can have a quiet night here – or as quiet as possible with Lily and the twins. White wine goes with chicken, or," he wonders, "would you prefer lover's red?"
"We could do the white with dinner and explore the scarlet sips of love later."
Rick trails his finger down Kate's cheek. "I'm rubbing off on you again."
"We can see about that later too."