The Address(81)

“It wasn’t found in your storage unit.”

Melinda put one hand on her hip. “It was in my great-grandfather’s trunk; that’s what Bailey said.”

“But the trunk was in the building’s storage area. Not yours.”

Bailey couldn’t believe he was challenging them. The trunks were obviously part of the Camden household. Then again, it was found in the room where people stored things they no longer wanted, that were no longer considered valuable. “He’s right. It wasn’t in the unit.”

“Then who does it belong to, if not to me?” demanded Melinda.

“The co-op, I would assume.”

Melinda looked like she was about to spit in his face. “Show me where you found it.”

Renzo led the way to the room with the trunks. They opened up each one and Melinda tore through them, tossing ball gowns and shoes and leather tubes on the ground.

Bailey rescued the silk purse from being snatched up by Melinda. “Be careful, these are all antiques.”

“Don’t tell me what’s valuable and what’s not. You show me this stuff and now he’s telling me it’s not mine? Give me a break. All this is mine.”

“No. It’s not. I’m sorry, but we’ll have to go through the management company on this.” Renzo held his palms up and shrugged. “That’s the way it works.”

Unexpectedly, Renzo turned on his heels and walked out of the room. Tony sprinted behind him but had a late start. When Bailey got to the office, Renzo was standing in front of the closed safe, no sheath in sight.

“You can’t do that,” Melinda sputtered, thrown by his sudden maneuvering. “You’re holding it hostage!”

“Until we hear from the management company, that’s where it stays.”

At first, Bailey couldn’t figure out where Renzo was coming from. He hated Melinda, so it must have given him some satisfaction to take something away from her. But it was obvious, even to Bailey, that the sheath came from a Camden trunk. Why make such a fuss?

Maybe, like Bailey, he didn’t want to see Melinda separate the knife and the sheath. He was holding it hostage so she wouldn’t. She had to hand it to him, he had nerve, challenging a tenant like Melinda.

Tony studied Renzo with a renewed interest. “You say we have to prove that it’s the Camdens’ knife?”

Renzo shrugged. “You’ll have to ask the co-op about that. Mr. Rogers is the board president. I would assume you should take it up with him.”

“How do we know you won’t make off with it in the meantime?” demanded Melinda.

“Wait a minute.” Tony held a finger to his cleft chin. “What if we could prove beyond a doubt that this was Theodore Camden’s?”

“How are we going to do that?” Melinda turned to Bailey. “Did you find anything that might be proof, a photo of him holding it or anything like that?”

“No. There’s nothing like that.”

“What about in my storage unit?”

“That’s empty.”

“Just my luck.” Melinda stared hard at Renzo. “Then we go to the management company. I’ll fight for this; no one is going to take it away from me.”

“You won’t have to fight for it,” said Tony. “As I was trying to say, we can prove that it is yours.”

“How?”

“My cousin can test the finger bone and blood for DNA and compare it to yours, Melinda.” Tony smiled as though he’d solved the famine crisis in Ethiopia.

“Where do you get my DNA from?”

“Your blood.” Melinda gave a dramatic shiver, but Tony continued on. “It’s called DNA fingerprinting.”

“Will that be considered proof, though?” asked Bailey.

Tony nodded. “You bet. It’s already been used in an immigration case in England to reunite some kid with his mother.”

Everything was moving too fast. Blood, bones, DNA.

But Tony was all business. “I’ll ring my cousin and find out how this all works. Melinda, in the meantime, check with the management company. And your family advisor.”

“Fred?”

“Yes. You’ll want to make sure this is all on the up-and-up.”

This was Bailey’s chance.

“I have a request.”

Melinda looked at Bailey like she was a bother, an irritant. Which wasn’t fair. Bailey had been the one who’d found everything, who set all this in motion. If it weren’t for her curiosity, the trunks would have stood in the corner for another hundred years, untouched.

“What’s that, dear?” The coldness in Melinda’s voice stung.

“I’d like my DNA to be compared as well. That way we’ll know whether or not I’m a Camden.”

Melinda laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding. No.”

“Just ‘no’? No discussion?”

Tony moved closer. “This is a very new test, and it’s quite expensive. If you have the money to pay for it, go right ahead, but if I’m paying for it, then I don’t want to add to the expense any more than I need to. You understand, surely?”

“But it’s your cousin who’s doing it. Don’t you get a family discount?”