Stealing the Countess Read Online Free Page B

scene; don’t touch anything.”
    The investigation gained a little momentum after that. Within twenty minutes both the chief and the Bayfield County sheriff were at the scene. Ninety minutes later, investigators from the Wisconsin DCI arrived, and the FBI was notified. A bulletin was issued, searches were made, guests were interviewed, the crime scene was processed.
    â€œWhat did they come up with?” I asked.
    Donatucci tapped the reports in front of me.
    â€œA lot of paper,” he said.
    â€œI’d be approaching the case four days late, five if I start tomorrow. Do you honestly believe I’ll find anything that they missed?”
    â€œIt’s possible. Fresh eyes. People in town settling down, not as cautious. Besides, the cops carry badges. Most people are nervous if not downright afraid to talk to them, including the innocent. You’ll be carrying something that’ll make them much more willing to cooperate.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œTwo hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
    Except you’d be an idiot to actually carry it around with you, my inner voice said. Not unlike leaving a priceless violin in your bedroom while you take a stroll.
    â€œSo?” Donatucci said. “Are you in?”
    It was my turn to tap the reports.
    â€œI’m going to take these with me,” I said.
    â€œI’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
    â€œI’ll leave tomorrow morning.”
    â€œHave a safe trip. Keep in touch.”
    â€œWhy don’t you come with me?”
    The idea seemed to appeal to him at first, but after a brief hesitation Donatucci began shaking his head.
    â€œIt’ll be fun,” I said. “I’ve been to Bayfield before. There’s this bar with a verandah on the lakeshore. We can lounge there in between interviews. Drink craft beers. Catch some rays. Watch the girls.”
    â€œI know the place”—he hesitated for a moment before continuing—“I haven’t been there for years, but I know the place you’re talking about.”
    Uh-huh.
    â€œYou know, Mr. Donatucci, you didn’t need to send a formal invitation, trying to use reverse psychology to get me to take the job,” I said. “All you had to do was pick up a phone.”
    â€œI have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    Of course not.
    â€œI mean it,” I said. “Come with me.”
    â€œI’d just slow you down.”
    â€œI’m not asking you to jog down the beach. Just hang out. I could always use some good advice.”
    â€œMy advice? Don’t ever get old.”
    *   *   *
    I dropped the files on the front seat of my car and made a call before driving off. I was a little surprised when Genevieve answered her own phone, reciting, “Bonalay and Associates, Attorneys at Law.”
    â€œG. K.,” I said, “it’s me.”
    â€œI knew it, McKenzie. You’re going to ignore my advice and go after the violin.”
    â€œWhat if I had a letter stating that I was acting on the Maestro’s behalf?”
    â€œDuclos doesn’t own the violin.”
    â€œYes, but you said he’s entitled to possession, so…”
    â€œA letter won’t help if the county attorney decides to prosecute.”
    â€œThat’s the thing, though. If I do recover the violin, I doubt either the foundation or the insurance company will press charges.”
    â€œIt doesn’t work that way. The way the state looks at it, the crime wasn’t committed against the foundation; it was committed against its citizens. If the prosecutor wants the case to go forward, it’s going forward.”
    â€œYeah, but if the foundation refuses to cooperate…”
    â€œThat makes it tougher. On the other hand, if the prosecutor calls out the foundation in the media for dealing with criminals—tell me, do you think they’ll stand up to all the bad