Page 22 of Love Is an Art
“No,” Yvette says. “It seemed too churlish to ask for that when we were friends, and I thought he was doing me a huge favor by finding this gallery show.”
“Without any documents as evidence, that would be hard to win,” I say. Yvette’s face falls. Miranda shakes her head at me. I get it.Too harshly said.
Iris raises an eyebrow at me. We’re on the same page. Sympathetic but not exactly sure we have a case here.
“Did you go to the gallery?” Iris asks.
“He said it was a pop-up gallery run by this dealer named Misty Morano. They had a website with a list of shows.” She shows Iris the website on her phone.
“It looks like that website hasn’t been updated recently,” Iris says. “I’ll look into it.”
“If it is even connected,” Lily adds. “Maybe he just picked a gallery website. Did you ever talk to them?”
“No. Jurgen said it was best to let him handle everything.”
“And what did he say happened with the show?” I ask.
“He said they couldn’t get the funding and it folded.” Yvette bites her nail.
“I talked to Officer Johnson,” Miranda says. “I met him when my painting was stolen, and he helped me, so I thought he might be able to take Yvette’s case. But he would like more to go on.”
So would I.This Jurgen guy could just be a crappy framer. But if I play bad cop, Miranda will kill me. She said Yvette was embarrassed enough and initially didn’t want to pursue it.
The server deposits a trayful of hot drinks on our table, and we each take ours.
I ask some background questions, such as how she met Jurgen and what he told her, to try to put Yvette at ease. Her leg is bopping up and down. She wouldnotbe a good witness on the stand. Her hands cradle her mug of hot chocolate as if gaining strength from it.
Really. She’s a perfect target. So tentative and unsure. Scammer Guy definitely knows his mark.
That’snotme.
Should Lily or Iris try to be his mark? They don’t convey that either. Especially Iris. She can slay you with a glance. Even with her shiny, dark-brown hair in a ponytail, she radiates confidence. Her parents own a bar downtown, and in college, she bartended there to help out and make money. She doesn’t put up with any crap.
And Lily is too busy right now with the community garden that she helps run. It’s practically another job on top of her full-time librarian position.
“What happened after the Misty Morano show fell through?” I ask.
“He helped me sell one of my grad school paintings to a collector he knew. That was my first sale to a stranger. I was so thrilled. And after that, he sold another painting to this couple in Brazil. That was super exciting, but we both got conned with that.”
“Conned?” I ask.
Iris leans in.
“This Brazilian man contacted him. He’d seen the painting on Jurgen’s Instagram and wanted to know if we could ship it to him in Brazil so he could give it to his wife for her birthday. My first international sale. I couldn’t believe it. And I shouldn’t have.”
Yvette sighs, sips her coffee, and continues. “Anyway, Jurgen gave me the guy’s check when he came to pick up the painting. But the check was for far more than the price of the painting. So right there, he called the Brazilian guy. The guy said he included the price of the shipping and Jurgen’s commission, and I should give the difference to Jurgen because Jurgen would ship the painting. I Venmoed Jurgen the difference. Jurgen left with the painting. The Brazilian guy said he wanted confirmation of the freighting before we cashed his check. We also had to use his freighting company.”
“The Brazilian check was fake,” Iris says.
Yvette nods. “The check was fake.”
Lily and Miranda also lean forward now, and we’re all silent. Other conversations buzz around us, but we’re slowly absorbing this loss.
“I was out one thousand dollars, which was the cost to ship it, and the painting was gone. Jurgen paid me back his two-hundred-dollar commission. He’d already shipped the painting, so that was lost. He was so apologetic and guilt-ridden. I felt so bad for him.”
“Did you ever see the confirmation of freighting?” I ask. “Do you know for sure Jurgen shipped it?”
“No.”
