Hidden Deception. Leann Harris

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      Walking into the police headquarters, Daniel met Raul. He held up the file in his hand. “ME’s preliminary report.”

      The news stunned Daniel. “Already?”

      “Amazingly, there was a lull at the morgue, so he got to our vic. She was stabbed four times. With the first three, our perp missed her heart. It was the final blow, straight into the heart that killed her.”

      Obviously the crime had occurred at Past Treasures. Had the murderer been trying to rob the shop, or did it have something to do with Joyce’s life? “You want to interview the surrounding shop owners to see what they know?” They needed to know more about the victim. The square where the murder had occurred had a very low robbery and murder rate.

      “I do. Let me get my coat and we’ll canvass the area.”

      Once Raul got his coat, it took less than five minutes to get to Past Treasures. The store remained closed and Daniel didn’t see activity inside. They walked next door to the art gallery.

      A tall, distinguished-looking man with a full head of dark hair and a deep tan approached them. “Gentlemen, how may I help you? Are you here to see the latest Jean-Paul Jaunes painting before it flies out the door?”

      “I’m Detective Daniel Stillwater and this is my partner, Detective Raul Rodriguez. We’re with the Santa Fe Police and are investigating the murder of Joyce Murphy.”

      He shook his head. “When I saw that Diane hadn’t opened the store, I went over there to see what the matter was. That was so tragic.”

      Raul scowled. The guy was putting it on rather thick.

      “Could we speak to you about Joyce?” Daniel asked.

      “Of course. Why don’t we talk in my office?”

      They followed him to the back of the store. His office was off the back workroom. Paintings, storage crates and bubble wrap filled the room, but no one was in sight. Mr. Jones walked to the enclosed office in the front corner. He’d spared no expense in furnishing the room, from the antique Spanish desk to the Tiffany lamp on the desktop. Beside it sat a laptop, open and working. Motioning to the chairs before the desk, he sat in the chair behind it.

      Once settled, Daniel asked, “How well did you know Joyce?”

      “She worked next door for several years. We traded hellos, but I didn’t know her very well.”

      “Did you ever see her with a boyfriend? Or a friend she hung with?”

      “No. The woman was completely closed up. She didn’t do small talk.”

      Raul leaned forward. “Did she ever come over here and look at your gallery? Maybe talk about business at the store next door?”

      “She came over here a couple of times. She didn’t appreciate fine art. And she couldn’t afford it. I told her it was a good investment, but she didn’t believe me.”

      Daniel jotted down a couple of notes. “Do you know if anyone had anything against Joyce? Someone who she had a fight with.”

      “I can’t say I ever saw anyone fight with her. But she mentioned working at the homeless shelter, the food bank and her church. There are plenty of people at the homeless shelter you can’t trust. Try there.”

      “What church?” Raul asked.

      “First Community Church over on St. Mary’s Avenue.”

      “Did she ever mention anything about her past?” Daniel wondered if Joyce had told anyone about her time in prison.

      “Nothing. One time I asked about her plans over the Fourth of July holidays—if any of her family was coming into town. She said nothing about family and planned to stay in town.”

      “Can you think of anything else about Joyce? Habits, likes, dislikes?” Daniel hoped that Preston might help provide a clue to Joyce’s killer.

      “She loved the Dodgers. Knew all the members of the team. She was something of a baseball fanatic.”

      That piece of news could help. “Did she like college baseball?”

      “Can’t say. You might ask Diane or Susan and Jeff Marks over at Mama Rosa’s.”

      Daniel glanced at his partner, silently asking if he had any questions. Raul shook his head.

      Pulling out his business card, Daniel handed it to Preston. “If you think of anything else, call me.”

      Preston dropped the card onto his desk. “Sure.”

      The detectives started out of the store, but Raul stopped by a large painting of a lily on a branch. Daniel had to swallow his smile at his partner’s puzzled expression.

      “Are you interested in buying a good piece of art?” Preston flashed a smile at the detectives. “I have several up-and-coming local artists. You can buy them at a reasonable price before they become famous.”

      Raul’s eyes widened. “There’s a market for this stuff?”

      Jones bristled. “This is the Jean-Paul Jaunes painting I told you about earlier. He is the hottest upcoming painter on the art scene in the Southwest.”

      Daniel grinned. Raul was more into the bold colors of his conquistador ancestors.

      “Well, for that price, he better be number one.”

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