Sufficient Ransom Read Free

doorway holding a Lego structure he had built. Colorful gilt prints of the Madonna and Child paintings that Mr. Stark coveted were laid across her desk. Her client had asked her to research several Renaissance pieces that were going up for auction in New York in the middle of October. A former colleague from the Boston Museum of Fine Art, where Ann had worked as a junior curator after Smith College, had generously gifted to her these high quality prints, knowing how important it was to Ann that Ann’s client be pleased with her work.
    “Mom, can you help me get this piece off?”
    At the doorway, she placed her hands on her son’s shoulders and pointed him toward the bathroom. “Go brush your teeth, Travis.”
    “What about my Legos?”
    Ann’s phone rang. She nudged Travis. “Go!” She had no time for any more of his nonsense. If he didn’t move they would be late for their appointment. If they were late for that, they would probably have to wait at least another thirty minutes before they could be seen. Afterwards, she would have to get Travis to school. Then she’d have to drive all the way downtown San Diego from La Jolla—a good twenty-five minutes—park her car, have lunch with Mr. Stark, and present him with her findings. Which at two hundred dollars an hour—her fee—was costing him a fair bit.
    Douglas Stark’s number appeared on her phone’s screen. She couldn’t afford for Travis to interrupt this call. She unlocked the front door and stepped outside. A few minutes later, after reassuring her client she would be at the restaurant at 11:30 sharp, she re-entered the house. “Travis?” she called. “Come on, honey. We have to leave.”
    Ann heard a noise in her office. Travis was behind her desk with a black marker in his hand and a guilty grin on his face. “What’re you doing?”
    She walked over to her desk and looked down. The gilt prints she had painstakingly acquired for her client were marked up. The Madonna’s face on one of them was traced round in heavy black, her beneficent smile made ridiculous with a curving grin. The other prints too were worked over in childish ways. In one of them, baby Jesus sported a sign that read, “Give me candy.”
    Blood rose to her face. “How could you do this?”
    Fear crept into Travis’s eyes. “I was just... I was only…”
    That her son would try to justify his actions with some lame excuse after the trouble she went through to get this presentation ready, enflamed her anger. “You were just
what
?”
    Travis’s voice was petulant. “What’s the big deal? It’s just pictures.”
    At that point, everything was a big deal to Ann. Her headache was worsening by the second. If they were late for the dentist, she’d be late to her meeting. This client had his eye on several expensive paintings in her gallery; his patronage could be a major boon to her business. If she failed to impress him he could just as easily take his business elsewhere.
    She tried to calm herself with soothing thoughts. Mr. Stark didn’t know she had these prints. She would just give him the PowerPoint presentation on her laptop. Everything would be fine. She guided Travis away from her desk. “If you’re not ready in two minutes, no dessert tonight.”
    Travis turned around and slapped her arm. Boy, did he know how to push her buttons! Her anger spiking a notch, Ann took a deep breath. No use getting worked up. Everything would be fine. Her voice was calm. “Behaving this way won’t get you any favors today, Travis.”
    His parting look was sullen.
    She glanced at her watch. It was 8:35. If they hurried, they might just make Travis’s 8:45 appointment. She scooped up the desecrated prints and dropped them into the garbage bin. Reaching for her cup of tea, she stopped. She noticed that her wrist was wet. She lifted her mug. It was half full. She touched it all the way round. It was dry.
What could possibly be wet?
Her eyes locked on her laptop. The machine was sitting