Page 76 of Skin Game

“We’ve looked in the obvious places.” Casey glared at Gabe.“Don’tsay it.”

“Fine, I won’t, but we clearly need to look in inconspicuous places.”

Claribel stood from the table and moved over to stand by Gabe. “This thing is one of those gentleman’s surprise chairs. They’re worth quite a bit.”

“Maybe she sold the artwork, and the money is in the chair?” That was Elton.

Gabe shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure it’s here, in the single ugliest piece of furniture I’ve seen. Alternatively, it’s still where Carla Pritchard hid it, and Holly-slash-Heidi found it but left it there. I don’t think Heidi would have made sure Alfred came to me if that were the case. This chair is not her style. The art being in here makes more sense.”

“What are you waiting for?” Shay asked.

“Fine,” sighed Gabe. “Let’s do this.”

Slowly, meticulously, Gabe and Casey began to search Alfred again. Gabe dragged his fingertips along the chair arms, legs, and back, seeking a hidden seam. A place that opened but wasn’t obvious.

“This chair was made for secrets,” he complained after not finding a fucking thing. “Maybe it is Heidi’s style, after all.”

“Let’s turn it over,” Casey suggested.

Carefully, they turned the chair upside down so that it was balanced by the edge of the seat and the ornate, throne-like back.

“Elton, would you come steady this?” Gabe asked.

With Elton making sure the chair wouldn’t tip over, he and Casey went back to work. Gabe found the palpable tension in the room a bit amusing. Claribel hadn’t stopped biting her fingernail since they started and Shay hovered on the perimeter like a referee. Even Paul had returned to the living area to watch the action while Etienne kept an eye on the croissants he’d popped in the oven.

The underneath part of the chair seemed to have nothing unusual, not that Gabe could find anyway.

“What if Heidi made her own secret compartment?” Elton asked. “What if it’s not original to the chair? Have you tried checking where the leather is sewn into the bottom of the seat?”

Gabe dragged his fingers along the seat bottom. It was held in place by staples, but they moved under his touch along one side. Not much, but more than one would expect.

“I need pliers or something,” Gabe said, patting himself down as if he’d find them in his back pocket.

Elton held out his pocketknife. “Use this.”

Kneeling, Gabe forced the tip of the blade under one staple, then another and another until they were all out. The protective fabric still adhered to the wood. Gabe peeled it away and dropped it to the floor.

Everyone spoke at once. “What do you see?” “What’s there?” “Is there anything?”

Gabe hushed them all. “Gimme a chance here.”

Casey stood back while Gabe pinched the edge of the fabric and pulled it away.

“I need a flashlight.”

Shay handed him a phone, the light already turned on. Accepting it, Gabe shone it into the cavity. Another piece of fabric was tucked inside. He pulled it out, revealing three cardboard tubes, each about eighteen inches long.

“Holy shit.”

Prying the lid off one tube, Gabe turned it upside down and shook it. When nothing slid out, he stuck a finger inside and carefully eased out a single canvas. With shaking hands, he rolled the canvas out just enough to see what it was. Gabe hadn’t heard of Martin Crevan and didn’t know how to identify art in general, but this was a landscape like the article had described. It was beautiful, and the artist’s signature was in the corner.

“No way.” Gabe sat back on his heels and stared at Casey and Elton. “No fucking way.”

“Now what do we do?” Casey asked.

It was Shay who answered. “You call your friendly family lawyer, or if he’s in the area, handing him a dollar retainer will do.”

Gabe pulled out his wallet; all he had was a fiver. He held it out to his half brother, “I suppose you don’t have change.”