ask Leonard and Willie what the last time was they saw me.’ But my son is too busy, he doesn’t ask them.”
“We can do that for you,” Sadie said, “because no one should be without their friends. And if you really want a dog, I can take care of that, too.”
The minute she said it Sadie wondered how in the world she was going to take care of it. What if Marnie was allergic to dogs?
“I don’t need a dog if I can have Leonard and Willie,” he said.
“I was just lonely. I thought a little dog, you know, a dog like your dog, would be good company for when Marnie is out of the house. But if I could go see Leonard and Willie, then I won’t be lonely.”
“Okay then,” Sadie said. “I’ll see what I can do. But can you tell me about the Holocaust treasure? It seems like a funny story to me, and by funny I mean strange. I have a friend who is a history professor and he says it’s very doubtful that any Holocaust money is buried in Seagrove.”
“Oh, that,” Cy said. “Marnie told me that. Now she says I misheard her, and she never mentioned the Holocaust. But I’m not senile, I know what she said.”
“Maybe what she meant was that she was mistaken,” Betty said. “She thought it was Holocaust money, but she was wrong.”
“Huh,” Cy grunted. “Maybe.”
“Could I use your bathroom?” Sadie asked and stood up.
“Certainly, down the hall past Marnie’s bedroom. Second door on the left.” He waved his hand in the direction of a door on the far side of the room.
Sadie made her way through the gloom and was relieved when she got to the door without tripping over an ottoman or a side table. Marnie’s door was open, and she glanced in on her way by. Nothing remarkable there. But when she was finished in the bathroom she couldn’t help but stop at the door to the caretaker’s room. Why had she told Cy the painting held the clue to the Holocaust money?
She stood listening to the voices in the living room for a moment before entering the room and closing the door behind her.
5
S adie stood in Marnie’s room and scanned it. It was a pleasant room in an airy white and blue kind of way, but sparsely furnished, and there were only three places a painting could be hidden; the closet, behind the dresser or under the bed. She listened at the door for a moment but didn't hear anything. So she headed over to the closet and eased open the door. She felt around behind the clothes, on the shelves, and against the front wall, but no painting was hiding there.
The dresser was tight up against the wall, and there was no way a big gilt frame was going to slide behind it, so she knelt down and peered under the bed. There was a package there, and it seemed like the right size, so she slid it out from under the bed. Whatever it was, Sadie was willing to bet money on it being the painting. It was wrapped in brown paper and tied with string.
She contemplated putting it on the bed to unwrap it but decided it would be better to do it on the floor. The least amount of evidence of tampering the better. Because she was going to tamper. The first knot untied easily and she pulled the string away from the top of the package and laid it out on the floor. She felt a bit anxious, so she got up and listened at the door again.
Still no noise in the hallway.
The second knot was not easy to untie. It was tight, and not the kind you could pull the ends to release. She went to work on it, easing some slack into the string and pulling at the tangle, looking for the place that would free up things if she just could get the string to pull through. It took patience, and she was well aware the three people in the living room must be wondering if she'd fallen in the toilet.
She worked the knot and finally it came free. She laid the string neatly to the side and unwrapped the brown paper. It was the painting from the shop. She supposed she could have mistaken the painting itself, but the frame was unmistakable. That clunky gilt
“We can do that for you,” Sadie said, “because no one should be without their friends. And if you really want a dog, I can take care of that, too.”
The minute she said it Sadie wondered how in the world she was going to take care of it. What if Marnie was allergic to dogs?
“I don’t need a dog if I can have Leonard and Willie,” he said.
“I was just lonely. I thought a little dog, you know, a dog like your dog, would be good company for when Marnie is out of the house. But if I could go see Leonard and Willie, then I won’t be lonely.”
“Okay then,” Sadie said. “I’ll see what I can do. But can you tell me about the Holocaust treasure? It seems like a funny story to me, and by funny I mean strange. I have a friend who is a history professor and he says it’s very doubtful that any Holocaust money is buried in Seagrove.”
“Oh, that,” Cy said. “Marnie told me that. Now she says I misheard her, and she never mentioned the Holocaust. But I’m not senile, I know what she said.”
“Maybe what she meant was that she was mistaken,” Betty said. “She thought it was Holocaust money, but she was wrong.”
“Huh,” Cy grunted. “Maybe.”
“Could I use your bathroom?” Sadie asked and stood up.
“Certainly, down the hall past Marnie’s bedroom. Second door on the left.” He waved his hand in the direction of a door on the far side of the room.
Sadie made her way through the gloom and was relieved when she got to the door without tripping over an ottoman or a side table. Marnie’s door was open, and she glanced in on her way by. Nothing remarkable there. But when she was finished in the bathroom she couldn’t help but stop at the door to the caretaker’s room. Why had she told Cy the painting held the clue to the Holocaust money?
She stood listening to the voices in the living room for a moment before entering the room and closing the door behind her.
5
S adie stood in Marnie’s room and scanned it. It was a pleasant room in an airy white and blue kind of way, but sparsely furnished, and there were only three places a painting could be hidden; the closet, behind the dresser or under the bed. She listened at the door for a moment but didn't hear anything. So she headed over to the closet and eased open the door. She felt around behind the clothes, on the shelves, and against the front wall, but no painting was hiding there.
The dresser was tight up against the wall, and there was no way a big gilt frame was going to slide behind it, so she knelt down and peered under the bed. There was a package there, and it seemed like the right size, so she slid it out from under the bed. Whatever it was, Sadie was willing to bet money on it being the painting. It was wrapped in brown paper and tied with string.
She contemplated putting it on the bed to unwrap it but decided it would be better to do it on the floor. The least amount of evidence of tampering the better. Because she was going to tamper. The first knot untied easily and she pulled the string away from the top of the package and laid it out on the floor. She felt a bit anxious, so she got up and listened at the door again.
Still no noise in the hallway.
The second knot was not easy to untie. It was tight, and not the kind you could pull the ends to release. She went to work on it, easing some slack into the string and pulling at the tangle, looking for the place that would free up things if she just could get the string to pull through. It took patience, and she was well aware the three people in the living room must be wondering if she'd fallen in the toilet.
She worked the knot and finally it came free. She laid the string neatly to the side and unwrapped the brown paper. It was the painting from the shop. She supposed she could have mistaken the painting itself, but the frame was unmistakable. That clunky gilt
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