Free No Hope In New Hope (Samantha Jamison Mystery Book 7) by Peggy A. Edelheit

us. No, not one bit.
    We left the car parked off to the side by another neighbor’s house and passed through the gate and headed for the dense tree line for cover. The evergreens were thick and over a hundred feet in height. We weaved back and forth behind their cover, steadily making our way closer, then stopped about fifty feet from the Worths’ stone house.
    “How do you want to play this?” Martha asked me.
    “We could go along the back, but that would waste too much time. Let’s skirt the front toward the garages, okay?”
    The others agreed and we followed each other in a line.
    Five minutes later I held up my hand. “Wait! I hear…”
    “An engine is running by the garages,” Betty whispered. “What could Tony possibly be doing out there?”
    “Could be sitting there and talking on his phone,” I said.
    “Maybe to make a quick getaway,” ventured Betty.
    Hazel whispered, “Well, he must be doing something.”
    “Standing here won’t tell us what, will it?” Martha said.
    We edged along the side of the garages then I held up my hand once more when we reached the large doors. I cautiously peered around the corner.
    I drew in a breath. “He’s loading a crate into his SUV.”
    “A crate of what? From where?” asked Hazel.
    By this time Martha was leaning over my shoulder.
    “It looks just like the crates at the gallery. …Paintings?”
    We quickly crossed the driveway, peering through thick evergreens that surrounded a large windowless utility shed.
    “I had no idea it was there!” I said, startled.
    “The Worths’ know they have a shed fifty yards away. It’s their property,” said Martha. “And the implications…”
    I countered with, “There’s always the off-chance they don’t use it. I mean, do they look like they’d even walk in that shed? Could someone else be handing off this stuff to Tony without their knowledge when they travel?”
    “Remember the initials AW on that lighter?” she asked.
    Were they Alicia’s? How was Clay going to react when he was told? They were his friends. At least he thought they were. And it wouldn’t be the first time and certainly not the last time someone lied to one of us. But a betrayal trumped buying into the gallery. I didn’t like what I was witnessing.
    Tony jumped into his SUV. We dove for the bushes and watched as he passed by, heading down the drive to leave.
    Was Tony robbing them or in cahoots with them?

 
     
     
    Chapter 36
    Taking A Look
     
     
    Martha kept looking back at the shed. I knew that look.
    “Uh-uh,” I said, shaking my head no. “Don’t suggest it.”
    “What harm would it do?” she asked innocently.
    Hazel and Betty exchanged glances and frowned.
    “I don’t do sheds,” declared Betty, brushing herself off.
    “You know I detest dark, closed in spaces,” said Hazel.
    Martha waved off their protests. “It’s broad daylight.”
    I considered it. Evidence? “Maybe there’s electricity.”
    “You see?” said Martha. “Sam thinks it’s a good idea.”
    I headed toward the shed. The others followed.
    Then Hazel brightened. “I bet he locked it.”
    “That would be prudent,” added Betty, hopefully.
    I stared at the double-doors. A long bar slid up and down to latch it then a padlock. And that was left unlocked. I lifted the bar and entered. The center was filled with a large flatbed trailer ( probably for Chris’ Harleys ) and multiple rolls of wire fencing, guessing, (to protect the evergreens from the deer in winter?)
    “The rest is typical tool shed items.”
    I checked the perimeter: tools, blower, rakes, etc.…
    “I don’t see any art in here or anything related to it.”
    “That makes it the perfect hiding spot,” said Betty.
    Out of nowhere, a gust of wind slammed the doors shut. We heard the bar drop in place and were now in the dark.
    “Stay put,” I instructed. “I’ll go unlatch the doors.”
    I felt my way over, stumbling into a few items, stepping around the fencing and tools.