Page 55 of Burning Caine

That would fix everything. I wouldn’t see him anymore. As much as I didn’t want to say goodbye, it was my only solution. All she’d have to do was report his results back to Foster and my life would be under control again. I’d do it tomorrow.

But first, I had to figure out what I was handing over to her. Breathing deeply, I pushed him aside. We either had the genuine painting, and we were jumping to conclusions about it being fake, or sometime between 2015 and now, it was replaced.

There was a big market in copies of famous artwork, for people who couldn’t afford, find, or insure the genuine article. Getting a copy done wasn’t difficult if you knew where to find someone who would do it. Something as current as a Chagall wouldn’t be done by someone on the up-and-up. Copyrights on his artwork would still be active for seventy years after his death, which had been in the ’80s.

Option A, it was stolen, a copy put up in its place so the Scotts wouldn’t know. Option B, the original was swapped out for a fake by one of the Scotts or someone else with access to the home.

Either option ended with the painting in the hands of someone we’d never find, either a thief or a secret buyer. So, forget about finding the original and focus on proving the Scotts’ painting wasn’t it. That was the first goal.

I grabbed my phone and called the Brenton PD, asking for Jimmy.

“Heya, Sammy! What can I do ya for?”

“You just wrapped up the investigation on the Scott case, right?”

“Yup.”

“No findings of arson or foul play, right?”

“Right again.”

“Any chance you can do me a favor?”

“Depends. Whaddya need?”

“Could you see if any break-ins were reported at the Scotts’ house since 2014?”

“You know I can’t.” If I’d asked before he’d submitted the final report, I bet he would have looked it up.

“Yeah, never mind. I’ll talk to you later.”

I put down the kickstand and stopped the motor, got off, and walked toward the ditch. Would Janelle help me? Had our relationship improved enough for me to get a favor? Doubtful. I had a friend and a half on the force, but I didn’t have any pull. But I did have pull at Foster.

I called Lucy next.

“Hi, Sam!” She sounded overly excited. “You’ll never guess what I found out from—”

“Lucy, is it important?”

“Not even close.”

“Okay, I need you to query some stuff in the claims system.”

“You got it! Give me one sec.” I heard her fingers moving over the keyboard.

“Tell her you’re on your way out,” came Mike’s voice in the background.

“Tell Mike he needs to get off his butt and go work some claims, or I’ll beat him this month on my closure ratio.”

Lucy laughed but didn’t convey the message. “Sam, the odds of him catching you are a quadrillion to one. Okay, I’m in, what do you need?”

“Search all claims reported by last name Scott. Filter the results for first name Olivia, Robert, Bobby, or David.”

“Scott, Scott, Scott,” she muttered as she went through the results. “We’ve got the open painting claim, Mike’s claim for the fire, and three more. Looking for anything in particular?”

“Property claims only, does that help?”

“Two of them were auto claims. Want me to open the other?”