Arresting the Culprit

Hello, faithful reader! This week we will conclude our story, Romance by Design! Today’s chapter takes place in the Gallery Connection.

Chapter Thirty-two

Middle-aged Ashley Wakefield had the widest smile Goldie had ever seen.

With the three potters shadowing her, she stopped first at Henry’s booth, then at Noreen’s. Ms. Wakefield picked up pottery, asked questions, and smiled her Cheshire cat smile.

Finally she stopped in front of Goldie’s booth and her eyes darted around at the various lines: the Autumn collection, the Butterflies, the Presidential line. And the three cups and saucers—all that was left intact of the Rose line.

Goldie stood back, holding her breath.

Ms. Wakefield pointed up at the rose teapot setting high in a corner out of reach. “That’s a pretty teapot. Why is it up there?”

Goldie picked up a Rose cup. “These cups and saucers match the teapot. I could make an entire line of this Rose collection if you’re interested. Or it could just be used as a tea set.”

“Interesting.” Ms. Wakefield turned the cup over in her hands. “This is very light and pretty.”

“Goldie hasn’t had much luck with that Rose line.” Carl Trennen stepped up beside the buyer. “Keeps cracking.”

“Carl!” Goldie glared at him. How dare he say that? He knew someone had deliberately damaged her pottery.

He shrugged.

With a frown, Noreen pulled him back by her side.

“It cracks by itself?” Ms. Wakefield held up the cup with her fingertips, as if would fall apart in her hands.

“Um, a few of my pieces were damaged.” Goldie picked up a bowl from her Presidential line. “This might be something New Yorkers would like.”

Ms. Wakefield set down the cup and took the bowl. “My, it’s heavy.” She glanced at Goldie. “Presidential, huh? This is an election year.” Her smile stretched across her face.

The front door opened, even though Mrs. Langford had put out the “closed” sign, and Ryan walked in.

Goldie’s heart quickened, but he barely glanced at her. Instead he gave Mrs. Langford a quick nod. Then he folded his arms and watched Ashley Wakefield as she continued her perusal.

Goldie sighed. This had to be the worst day of her life. Not only was her Rose pottery ruined, but Ryan wasn’t paying any attention to her. Elisa said their relationship was over, but maybe he still had feelings for her. After all, Elisa was going to work with his parents.

After a quiet and tense ten minutes, Ashley Wakefield finally turned toward them. “I’ve made my decision. All of you have good points to your pottery.” She glanced between Henry, Noreen, and Goldie. “I wish I could commission a line from each of you. But since I can only buy one, I’ve decided to take the Presidential line.”

Goldie gave a cry of joy. Her pottery would be sold at Saks Fifth Avenue! A dream come true.

Mrs. Langford smiled at her. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Goldie turned to Ryan, hoping for a hug, but he wasn’t even looking at her.

Henry stepped forward and shook her hand. “Good job.” He didn’t smile—as usual.

Noreen wasn’t smiling either. “You were always a better potter than me. Congrats.”

“Thanks, Noreen.”

Carl turned to this wife. “Let’s go home, honey.”

“Not so fast, Trennen.” Ryan grabbed Carl’s arm.

Noreen frowned. “What are you doing?”

Two policemen, whom Goldie hadn’t noticed, strode up to Carl and pulled his arms behind him. Handcuffs clicked.

“Carl Trennen.” Sheriff Whalen faced him. “You are under arrest for the destruction of other people’s property.”

Goldie’s mouth fell open. Carl? The nicest guy in the world?

Noreen gasped. “Carl, is that true? Did you damage Goldie’s pottery?”

With a scowl, he glanced at the sheriff. “You have no proof.”

“But we do, Mr. Trennen.” Ryan pointed to Goldie’s booth. “We rigged up a camera and caught you on film.”

“I can’t believe it!” Noreen burst into tears, then covered her face with her hands.

Sheriff Whalen motioned to the other policemen. “Take him to the station.”

The men led him toward the door. The only sound was the tramp of their feet and Noreen’s sobbing. Goldie placed her arm around Noreen’s shoulders, but the poor woman just kept crying.

Goldie was in a bit of shock herself. She glanced around at the others. Henry stood back, a perplexed frown on his face. Ashley Wakefield seemed confused. Mrs. Langford and Ryan didn’t seem surprised at all, although they both looked glum.

Mrs. Langford moved to Noreen’s other side. “I’m so sorry, but it was Carl all along.”

“But why?” Noreen wiped her eyes. “Why would he do such a thing?”

Ryan folded his arms. “He wanted your line to be chosen, so he tried to knock out the competition.”

Goldie frowned. “But he hit a couple of Noreen’s plates, and he didn’t damage any of Henry’s pottery.”

“To throw suspicion on me.” Henry turned toward the door. “I’m going home.”

Ashley Wakefield stepped toward them. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.” She frowned. “Goldie, was your Presidential line tampered with?”

“No.” Ryan answered, glancing at Goldie before he looked back at Ms. Wakefield. “She had given that line to me, and I brought it in this morning. Mrs. Langford set it out just before you arrived.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Ashley nodded to Goldie. “In that case, could you box up the Presidential pottery for me? I’ll ship it back to Saks this afternoon. Then you and I need to sit down and discuss your contract.”

Goldie’s head whirled. “That would be great!”

They set a time to get together, and Ms. Wakefield left. Ryan also walked out the door, and Mrs. Langford took Noreen under her wing. Goldie was left in the Gallery by herself.

Her legs trembled, and she sat down on the floor. Carl Trennen, of all people! She never suspected him.

But she still got the commission! “Thank You, Lord!” She shouted out the words. God was so good! But what a roller coaster day this had been!

After a few moments spent in prayer, she began packing the Presidential line. Plates, cups, bowls—she carefully wrapped each piece in brown paper and laid them in the box.

As she reached for a plate in the back of the booth, a piece of paper fluttered to the floor.

It was the phone picture Ryan had taken of the two of them. On the back he had written, “You’re the only one for me. Can we start over?”

A tear slipped down Goldie’s cheek. “Thank You, Lord,” she whispered.

* * *

Until tomorrow, God bless!