Golden Lies - Barbara Freethy [93]
"There are always legends, always curses. What else have you got?" He stood up and placed the golf ball back on the carpet in preparation for making another putt.
"Ned Delaney. Do you know who he is?"
"I don't think so," he said.
"He was a security guard at Hathaway's. I saw a photograph of the two of you together."
"I've taken a million photos with a million different employees."
"He was also the owner of the dragon in question. His wife, Nan Delaney, is the one who brought it to us. It seems an odd coincidence that he would have worked for us a long time ago."
"A lot of people have worked for us over the years."
"Not people who have priceless artifacts discovered in the attics of their modest homes. This is not a man who collected antiques or Chinese art. He had nothing except this statue, and no one seems to know where it came from." She paused, debating whether or not to ask a question that had been bothering her for some time now, a question she didn't really want to put into words because it made her feel disloyal to Riley. But that was wrong. Her loyalty was to her family. She had to remember that. "Are you sure that Hathaway's never owned a statue like this a long time ago?" she finally asked.
"You think this Delaney stole the statue from us?"
"It did occur to me, yes."
He focused on his putt, sending the ball into the can. "Interesting theory."
"Unfortunately, the computer records at the store only go back ten years and the files another ten. Judging by the photo I saw, Mr. Delaney must have worked for Hathaway's in the fifties or sixties. And I don't think we still have those records anywhere, do we?"
"No. That's that, then," Wallace replied. "Anything else?"
"You're sure you don't remember the dragon statue?"
"I've bought and sold thousands of statues in my lifetime, Paige. Not many stand out in my mind."
"I guess not." She turned toward the door, but his voice stopped her.
"What happened to this Delaney guy? Is he dead?"
"No, he has Alzheimer's. He's in an assisted living place. Riley says he doesn't remember much."
"Too bad." Wallace picked up the golf ball and set it up again. She watched him measure the distance to the hole. Then he stroked the ball. It missed by a good two inches. Wallace Hathaway was nowhere near as steady as he usually was. Paige wondered why.
Chapter Seventeen
An hour later, Paige was still thinking about her conversation with her grandfather as she leaned over the pool table, trying to concentrate on the shot in front of her. It was nice to focus on something simple for a change. All she had to do was hit the ball into the corner pocket. She slid the cue between her fingers and took the shot. It was perfect. She stood back, admiring her handiwork.
"Not bad," Jerry said as he stepped into the back room of Fast Willy's in search of empty glasses. "But don't you think it's kind of pathetic that you're here all by yourself on a Saturday afternoon shooting pool?"
"It's not nice of you to point that out."
"How's your father?"
"He's much better, almost ready to go home. I'm incredibly relieved."
"Are you?" Jerry picked up two empty beer bottles and set them on the tray. "Then why are you shooting pool today? You usually only do that when you've got some problem on your mind that you can't figure out how to solve."
"I do not have one problem, I have many problems," she replied.
He gave her a thoughtful smile. "Any involving that guy who followed you here earlier this week?"
"That is none of your business."
"Come on, Paige. Give a little. This is your old pal Jerry you're talking to."
She let out a sigh. "I think I'm falling for him."
"Does he feel the same way?"
"Who can tell? I know he wants me, but the rest, all the emotional stuff, I don't think it's going to happen." She sighed. "But my love life or lack thereof isn't really the problem. It's my family, it's my job, it's what I want to do with the rest of my life."
"That's