Shadows from the Past Read online

  Skip maneuvered to a spot directly above the house, but away from the chimney. He pressed the red button and another small window opened on the laptop screen. “Baldorf! I’ve now got six windows on this laptop.”

  “For sure, dude, you’ve got the four directional cams, environmental information—which is super awesome because it includes temperature, humidity, windspeed, and distance to nearby objects—and the new one is your MD-1 diagnostics.”

  “You didn’t tell me this was Star Wars. I can’t process all that crap. Can you just show me the ones I need?”

  “No worries. You got it, Obi Wan. The screen is going to change. Don’t freak out.”

  The MD-1 diagnostics window disappeared, followed by the environmental information, then the view on the four camera windows changed and Skip realized he was now seeing the view from the MD-1. “Wow,” he muttered. “I feel like I could reach out and touch the rooftop.”

  “According to diagnostics, you’re 12.2 inches away. Guide the mosquito over to the flue and go straight down. If you get too close to an object the anti-collision controls will engage. You won’t be doing any tumble-down-the-tube scenarios.”

  “You do realize it would have been easier to just break in. And what if the chimney’s blocked?”

  “Only one way to find out, bro. Relax and enjoy the ride. This is totally a real-life video-game scenario.”

  “If only.” The tension in Skip’s shoulders grew as he moved closer to the flue. When the opening was positioned directly beneath him, Skip nudged the altitude lever. The flue opening seemed to swallow the MD-1 and the world went black.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Roxy

  I GAWKED AT the image on Richards’ phone. It was most definitely the painting from Bruno’s wall. “You’ve stretched your tale too far, Mr. Richards. I don’t see how any woman could convince Bruno to buy a painting he couldn’t afford.”

  The wrinkles around the corners of his eyes tightened into a smile. “It was not just any woman, Miss Tanner. She was the love of Bruno Panaman’s life. The one he let go, and her name was Remedios Anna Benedetti.”

  To my knowledge, I’d never heard the name before. And when unexpected ‘new’ information popped up, I became suspicious for one simple reason—I’d used the same ploy many times. It was a very successful tactic as long as you could create the right corroborating evidence. Richards was either a skilled manipulator or I didn’t know Bruno Panaman at all. I doubted the latter, so unless this man could provide something concrete within the next thirty seconds, I would tell Bud he’d made a mistake. “That’s quite a name,” I said. “How did you find this out?”

  “I am her godfather.” Richards leaned back and let out a wistful sigh. “She was a lovely lady. I babysat for her when she was little and we stayed close until the day she died. I tried to tell her Bruno Panaman was trouble. She wouldn’t listen.”

  I shook my head. “Love sucks. It makes us do stupid things.” Twenty seconds.

  “Isn’t that why you’re so interested in this painting? Love for this girl is driving you to find her? She’s not your daughter. You could easily walk away and be done with her.”

  “I could never…”

  “And that’s exactly how Remedios felt about Bruno. Their relationship was not what you might think, Miss Tanner. You see, ultimately, this was a case of ill-fated lovers. Remedios was of mixed heritage. Her mother was Hispanic, and her father was Italian. Because of that, Bruno’s parents forbid him to marry her. His parents felt he should marry only an Italian girl.”

  “Time’s up, Mr. Richards. I don’t have all night. You said your goddaughter was the reason Bruno bought the painting. Bruno Panaman is a very deliberate businessman. I didn’t think emotion could sway him even if this woman was the love of his life.”

  “Not now, perhaps. But in those days, he was different.”

  I swallowed hard. I should leave. But I couldn’t. Not yet. “Bruno’s very strong willed, Mr. Richards. I don’t see him being influenced by his parents' desires.”

  “Again, Miss Tanner. You speak of him as you know him today. Also remember his mother and father were iron-willed and he could ill afford to fight their combined forces. He and Remedios met in college. They fell in love and were inseparable until Bruno took her home to meet his parents. His father was infuriated; his mother was devastated. The young couple was not to be deterred, however. They decided to elope.”

  “How do you know all of this?”

  “I had no children of my own, Miss Tanner. I also took my responsibilities toward Remedios seriously and, as she grew up, we became very close. We shared many things. I believe I am the only person alive who knows the true history of The Last Warhol.”

  How many times had I used the same line? Those who wanted to believe were so easily convinced. I would not fall for my own tricks. “You haven’t told me anything I can use, Mr. Richards.”

  “I understand, but perhaps you will allow me a few more moments of your time. I can tell you all about Bruno Panaman and his weaknesses.”

  I gazed at him for a moment, a conflict raging within me. After a few seconds, I sat. “Go on.”

  “When Bruno’s father threatened to disinherit him if he married Remedios, Bruno fought with his father intensely. But the elder Panaman would not back down. So Remedios and Bruno ran away. It was not until they were at the altar that Bruno had second thoughts. Finally, as they were standing in front of the minister, Bruno told Remedios he could not marry her because he could not afford to have his parents disown him.”

  “That’s cold.”

  “As you will see, Remedios was not a woman to anger. She retaliated by telling Bruno she’d never loved him and never wanted to see him again. She was, of course, lying, but Remedios was never one to show weakness, either. That may be the reason Bruno loved her so much. After their argument, they went their separate ways. Bruno left school and entered the family business—a business he has since squandered in his futile attempts to save Sonny.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “Six months after they parted she married a man named Jack Carter in an arranged marriage.”

  “I don’t understand what any of this has to do with Bruno’s Warhol painting. Or how I can use this against Bruno.”

  “Perhaps this will help—Remedios was never happy in her marriage. That is why she called me to ask for a favor. She had decided the only way to make Bruno feel pain was to hurt him financially. She was insistent and begged me to arrange the sale of The Last Warhol so she could get him to overbid.”

  I knew I liked this woman. Devious. Determined.

  “Andy Warhol died in February 1987, Miss Tanner. The print was ‘discovered’ about six months later and brought to the attention of the estate by a dealer who said he’d found it in an attic. They had the painting authenticated, and then the dealer demanded the auction be kept private. She called Bruno and asked to meet him for lunch, at which time she disclosed her plan to purchase the painting.”

  “What did she do, let it slip that she wanted the piece badly? And that made him want it even more?”

  “Exactly,” Richards said. “Remedios used the most subtle of influences to encourage Bruno to join the bidding. She also had her husband bid against Bruno, but when the price was high enough, she told her husband she was no longer interested. Bruno ended up with a painting he bought out of spite.”

  “And over time, The Last Warhol became Bruno’s prize possession because he’d shown his dominance over others. Brilliant.”

  “More brilliant than you realize.” Richards leaned back in his seat and chuckled. “The Last Warhol is a forgery, Miss Tanner. Bruno Panaman paid almost five million dollars for a worthless fake.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Skip

  SKIP PEERED CLOSELY at the laptop screen. “What happened, Baldorf? All this black stuff looks like peeling paint.”

  “In a way, you are correct, dude. You’re in the flue.”


  “So that’s a creosote buildup? Reminds me of the stalactites I saw in a cave during a field trip in school. Bruno should hire a chimney sweep before it goes up in flames.”

  “I guess you were paying attention.”

  “You’re funny, Baldorf.” Skip mimicked a laugh, then asked, “So how long will this last?”

  “Not long. You’re in a slow, automatic descent. If you get near an obstacle, the MD-1 will stop automatically.”

  The image Skip had been watching stopped moving and the downward-facing screen showed a partially open damper.

  “Awesome. We totally have a way in.”

  “There’s no way.” Skip shook his head as he stared at the size of the opening. “I can’t navigate through that tiny space.”

  “Dude, there’s like, a ton of room. Do exactly what I tell you and you’ll thread that needle like a pro.”

  Skip sighed and grimaced. “I don’t want to break your drone, Baldorf. You should do this.”

  “No way, bro. You’re the pilot. Turn the blue dial all the way to the left. It will give you finer control and reduce the collision avoidance parameters.”

  Skip followed Baldorf’s instructions and inched the joystick forward. The opening grew slowly in the monitor. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple.

  “Easy, dude. You’re doing great. A little to the right.”

  As the opening drew closer, it grew in size until it looked to be the size of a canyon. By the time the MD-1 had made it through to the other side of the damper, Skip felt drained, exhilarated, and thankful the experience was over. He took a deep breath and guided the drone into Bruno’s living room.

  “Congrats, bro, you made it through and the computer didn’t have to correct once. But now we have another problem. You only have four minutes of flight time left. Land on the mantle and let’s scope out the room.”

  Four minutes? The number echoed in Skip’s head. Four minutes could feel like an eternity—or no time at all. He shoved away the thought and maneuvered to the mantle just as a man wearing a robe and carrying a towel walked into the room.

  “That’s Sonny Panaman,” Skip said. “He is staying with Bruno.”

  “Get on the towel, dude! Get on the towel.”

  Skip shoved the joystick forward and the image of Sonny grew larger until it disappeared into what looked like a field of white grass. Skip sat back in his seat and pursed his lips. “Wow. I did it. Now what?”

  “We see where he’s going. Power’s draining fast. Taking down unnecessary subsystems. Flight time remaining—two minutes. We have to return to the mother ship or find a source of power.”

  “You’re worried, Baldorf. I can hear it in your voice.”

  “Got to admit, dude, the MD-1 needs a little tweaking.”

  The kitchen appeared on the screen. Bruno Panaman stood at the stove, a skillet before him and next to that a large pot. “Hey, Sonny, I’m making your favorite—pasta carbonara.”

  “No thanks, Pop. I’ll be in the hot tub.”

  “Neither of them sound very happy,” Skip said.

  “Your forte, not mine, bro. Sounds like people making squawking noises.”

  Sonny went to the patio slider and opened it. He closed the door behind him without another word.

  Skip shook his head. “There’s something definitely going on between them. I can hear it in their tones. You don’t hear that?”

  “Dude, don’t you know by now? Machines, I get. People? Not so much.”

  Sonny crossed the patio to the hot tub, and when he removed the towel from his shoulder, Skip instinctively pulled back on the vertical control stick. After Sonny laid the towel over the back of the chaise longue, Skip returned the MD-1 to a spot in the field of white grass.

  Baldorf sighed. “Good reaction, bro, but that cost us.”

  Sonny pulled a cell phone from the pocket of his robe. He then lowered himself into the bubbling water and tapped the screen a few times. A few seconds later, he snapped, “What’s happening?”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Skip said. “At least he gave us a convenient landing spot.”

  “He’s a peach.”

  “Baldorf? Is that disdain I detect in your voice?”

  “More like disgust. Let’s see what Mr. Scumbag has to say.”

  “What kind of voodoo are you pulling now?”

  “I want to see if I can lock onto the phone number he dialed. I could trace its location.”

  Sonny grunted and shook his head. “I don’t care what you think.”

  “Baldorf, is there any way to get the other side of this conversation?”

  “If we had more flight time left, for sure.”

  “The kid stays where she is. I’m the one in charge. You just do as you’re told. I’ll be there at seven. You can wait until I get there.” Sonny tapped the screen, then tossed the phone onto the concrete.

  “Let go of the controller, dude.”

  Skip pulled his hand away. “I thought you wanted me to pilot.”

  “You have less than thirty seconds of flight time left and we need power.”

  “What happened to my two minutes?”

  “Everything uses juice, bro. Even just sitting around like a fly on the towel. And now we don’t have enough for the vertical ascent to the mother ship.”

  Three of the screens switched from camera view to a steady scrolling of numbers in columns. The remaining image zeroed in on Sonny’s discarded phone. Skip’s jaw dropped as he watched the bottom of the phone come into view, then fill the screen. He felt like he was going cross-eyed as he tried unsuccessfully to read the numbers. The image shifted again and a tiny prong from the MD-1 came into view and slipped into the phone’s power port.

  “Holy cow,” Skip muttered.

  “At the rate we’re charging, all we need is two minutes and we’ll have enough juice to get home,” Baldorf said.

  “You’re plugged into his phone. Can’t you get the number from it?”

  “Not until he unlocks it.”

  The columns of numbers disappeared and the camera images returned. On one screen, Sonny stared glumly toward the house. He grimaced and shifted position.

  “Uh oh, dude. Here comes daddy.”

  “This ought to be good.”

  Bruno strode across the patio until he stood next to the hot tub and glared down at Sonny. “I don’t like this thing you’re doing one bit.”

  “Pop, it’s none of your business.”

  “You made it my business when you decided to play big shot. I didn’t spend everything I had to have you kidnap some street child for your revenge.”

  “Butt out, Pop. Just butt out.”

  Bruno turned and stormed back into the house.

  “Well, well,” Skip said. “All is not well in the Panaman household.”

  “Even I got that one, dude.”

  “The question is, how do we use that to our advantage?”

  “Roxy would know,” Baldorf said.

  “Yeah, Roxy would know. But she’s gone dark. Can you find her?”

  “Not unless she makes a mistake.”

  Skip sighed. “You know as well as I do she won’t do that.”

  “You’re right. Not deliberately. But she can’t hide forever. As soon as she surfaces, I’ll know where she is.”

  “She will not surface, either. Not until she’s ready.”

  “You’d be surprised, dude. I have multiple searches going on for her. But the MD-1 has enough power and we need to get back to the mother ship. Its power is down to thirty percent, and I don’t have a rescue plan.”

  On the screen of Skip’s laptop, the hot tub image grew smaller. while in a separate panel, the mother ship slowly filled the screen. Seconds later, the MD-1 had docked and the panels on his laptop disappeared. Skip sat staring at the darkened laptop.

  “Dude, you okay? You running silent on me?”

  “We went through all that, Baldorf, and the only thing we’ve got is a confirmation of what we started wi
th. We’ll have to resort to an old-school tail.”

  “I don’t see the problem, dude. You’re good at that kind of stuff, right?”

  “Yes, but in a real-world scenario there are so many ways this could go wrong. I’ll wait here and follow him when he drives by. I just hope I don’t lose him somewhere along the way.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Roxy

  I TOOK A deep breath and gazed at a diploma on the wall. It was for Rudy Neri. The man whose office we were in, and the one accommodating Richards in this waste of precious time. Even Bud had been taken in by this charlatan.

  “Mr. Richards, you’ve stretched your tale too far,” I snapped. “I have to find a little girl who’s been kidnapped and you’ve provided nothing of value.”

  “I can prove it. And, you can use this to get the girl back. Just give me a few more minutes. Bruno Panaman, at least indirectly, caused the death of Remedios, Miss Tanner. If I can help you destroy him, even if it’s the last thing I do, I will be more than willing to do so. Please, sit.”

  His face was so earnest. He was either an excellent con man, something Bud would have warned me about, or he was being truthful. And, to be honest, I had no other options.

  “Get to the point.”

  “I created The Last Warhol for Remedios.” He stopped, and his smile grew. “I know. You look at me now—.” He held up a palsied hand. It trembled almost constantly. “I’m sure you wonder how this man who cannot control his movements could have created a work of art capable of fooling expert authenticators. I was a very accomplished forger, Miss Tanner. If you check my criminal record, you’ll see I was convicted twice of forgery. My last prison term began in 2006. I must admit, the first conviction was my fault. The second, however, was caused by the stupidity of my associate.”

  Richards was right. As I scrutinized his posture and movements, I never would have envisioned him as a forger. But a prison sentence was easy to confirm. “I can check with the state about those arrests, Mr. Richards.”