Page 79 of Whispers of Redemption

CHAPTER 32

Cassie sat on the loveseat while Wade stood in her kitchen, mixing up a mocktail for them both. Angel sat at his feet, staring fixedly up at him, waiting patiently for the homemade treat she knew he would offer her at any second.

Cassie and Wade were enjoying their first date night together after the ordeal of two nights before. They’d watched another Alfred Hitchcock mystery together and missed an integral part of the plot because they’d succumbed to another passionate make-out session, made all the richer now that they’d finally shared their true feelings for each other. Cassie joked that Alfred Hitchcock was becoming a dangerous choice for them, making him laugh.

“I can’t remember the last time I read an actual paper newspaper,” Cassie said as she spread open the copy of the Whispering Pines Daily that Wade had given her.

“Yeah, well, Pops still keeps his tradition of morning coffee over the daily newspaper. And when he saw the article, he went back out and bought a bunch of copies. At least this one doesn’t have highlighter stars and exclamation points all over it,” he said with a grimace.

Cassie laughed. “What did you expect? That man is over-the-top proud of you already. And now you’re front page news.” She tucked a strand of red-gold hair behind her ear and began to read aloud. “Greatest Art Crime in History Solved in Whispering Pines! Thanks to members of our very own Whispering Pines police force, today an art frame in Boston’s Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum no longer stands empty. This weekend marks the end of a frustrating chapter in a decades-long saga that comprised one of the art world’s greatest mysteries.

“The FBI Art Crime division, with the help of local investigators, Wade Riley and Hugo Garcia, as well as two Whispering Pines residents,” she paused here to grin at Wade, “recently recovered The Concert, one of only a handful of paintings by the renowned Dutch artist, Johannes Vermeer. The renowned Renaissance piece, valued at more than $250 million, was returned to the museum after a successful FBI sting operation not only recovered the stolen artwork, but busted up one of the largest art smuggling rings in the country.

“‘This is quite a coup for the FBI Art Crime division,’ says FBI agent Zack Barrett. ‘Art crimes typically have a very low recovery and prosecution rate, with less than two percent of all art theft cases seeing the art recovered and the criminals prosecuted.’” Cassie paused and looked up at Wade. “Wow! I had no idea art crimes were so hard to solve!”

“Neither did I,” Wade admitted. “You’re a hero, too, little pup.” He bent to pat Angel’s head and present her with a yogurt-frosted dog treat in the shape of a fire hydrant. The dog accepted it delicately between her teeth and pranced over to show Cassie before lying down to lick and nibble at it.

Cassie continued reading, “Local residents, Olga Kozlovsky and Brett Oliver, have been arrested in conjunction with the case.” At this, she gave a loud whoop, startling Angel, who recovered quickly and returned to savoring her treat.

Wade vigorously shook the cocktail shaker and poured the contents into two glasses. Then he carried them over to join her on the loveseat. When he sat down, the worn out coils in the seat caused the two of them to sink toward each other as usual, and Wade used the opportunity to plant a gentle kiss on her lips. Then he leaned back to study her. His eyes went to the side of her jaw and he frowned. He reached out, his fingertips lightly touching the dark bruise where Olga had hit her with the gun and successfully knocked her out.

“Does it hurt?” he asked quietly.

“A lot less than my head did yesterday. I’m glad I only got a slight concussion when I fell to the floor after she hit me.”

His frown deepened.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” she said, grasping his hand and twining her fingers with his. “It happened two days ago! Stop babying me.”

“I like to baby you!”

She wanted to groan at his cheesiness, but his expression was so earnest it made her heart melt. She released his fingers as he handed her a glass.

She gave it a suspicious sniff. “So, what are you serving me this time?”

“This is my famous Lemon Cardamom Sparkler,” he said. The liquid in the glass was a brilliant golden yellow with a few fresh mint leaves scattered on top. He’d garnished each glass with a lemon slice. “The secret is my homemade cardamom-infused syrup.”

They each took a sip. Cassie closed her eyes in appreciation as the sweet and citrus flavors melded together with the herbal spice of the cardamom. “It’s sooo good, Wade. You’ve got another home run here,” she said, and took another sip before tossing the newspaper aside and settling back to snuggle against him. “So, we know Olga and Brett were arrested, but I need to know the rest of the story. Like what exactly will happen to them?”

“Well, in addition to multiple charges related to art theft, they’ve both been charged with kidnapping and attempted murder. My prediction is that they’ll be locked away for a long, long time,” he said. He ran a hand over the glossy strands of her hair. “I can’t even let myself imagine what would have happened if we hadn’t found you when we did, Cassie.”

Her emerald eyes met his, and he could see the deep love he had for her reflecting back at him. “But you did,” she whispered. She leaned forward and kissed him softly then sank against him, her head resting on his shoulder. “What about the Liaison? Did you find her?” she asked.

“I got an update on that this morning from Zack,” he said, enjoying the feel of her soft, warm body against his. “The FBI got the note from Brett’s pants pocket that you told them about, and they found the secret cell phone in Olga’s bookshelf. Since they arrested Olga before she could alert anyone, the Liaison was just where Olga had told her to be to accept the delivery from Brett. Zack said it couldn’t have worked out any more perfectly. Turns out, she’s an art curator for a museum in Pennsylvania. And the reason The Concert was undiscovered for so many years was because it was hidden under the bed of one of the original thieves, unbeknownst to his family. When the thief died, one of his family members found it. Instead of doing the right thing, though, they put it up on the black market. But they were even more stupid than Brett. They had no idea the value of what they’d found. And the Liaison was able to buy it from them for a song. She and Olga were all set to make quite a hefty profit on the sale.”

“It really would have made quite the retirement plan,” Cassie said.

“For sure,” Wade agreed. “Zack told me they found the buyer, too. He says they’ve got everything they need to bust the entire ring, thanks to our help. He claims that Olga’s ring has laundered multiple pieces of stolen art and artifacts through private collections over the years. And now that they’ve got the Liaison’s records, they hope to return the majority of those stolen pieces to their rightful owners.”

“Wow, that’s great,” Cassie said, her voice beginning to sound sleepy. She’d been unusually tired after the ordeal. And Wade had been worried about it, particularly in light of her concussion. But the doctor assured him that it was rest and sleep that Cassie needed most now. That’s why he’d forced himself to stay away for two days.

Just then, Cassie’s cell phone rang, making her sit up abruptly. She looked at the screen. “It’s Ani,” she said, “Sorry, but I think I should take it.”

Wade gave a quick understanding nod and stood to clear away their empty glasses.

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