CHAPTER THIRTEEN – THE STORAGE DOOR
A crash sounded behind the stage while the crowd was still watching Mabel.
A worker stumbled through the service entrance and shouted for the event supervisor.
Someone had attempted to move crates from the disputed storage area despite the court’s temporary order.
Imogen hurried toward the sound with the supervisor and an investigator.
I stayed in the public hall until June pointed toward a side door.
Nina was standing there, her face drained of color.
“They’ve got the signed delivery sheet,” she told me.
“The driver says he was told the order didn’t apply to the crates already loaded.”
“Is that true?”
“No.”
I asked Nina to speak to the investigator rather than confront the driver herself.
She nodded and returned to the storage entrance.
Celia moved quickly toward the loading area.
The event coordinator followed her, repeating that the guests should remain calm.
Several donors watched them disappear, then began asking the board chair what was happening.
The chair, a retired school principal named Gregory Moss, had been largely silent during the evening.
He asked staff to suspend bidding on all questioned lots until counsel confirmed what could legally proceed.
Celia objected from the doorway.
“You’ll destroy months of fundraising,” she said.
Gregory answered that the organization’s credibility would not survive selling property whose ownership remained disputed.
He instructed the auctioneer to announce the pause.
The man at the microphone looked relieved.
He told the audience that a portion of the catalogue required additional review and invited guests to continue viewing undisputed works.
Some attendees left immediately.
Others remained, looking from the stage to the artists with growing concern.
I walked outside with June because she was trembling from the noise and confusion.
Cold air drifted between the parked cars.
June leaned against the brick wall.
“I thought everybody would just clap when they heard the truth,” she said.
“The truth doesn’t always make a neat ending,” I replied.
“What if the classes stop?”
“Then the people who run them will have to explain what happened and find a different way to fund them.”
June considered that.
“Mrs. Ortiz should still get to make things,” she said.
“Yes.”
Inside, the pause continued while investigators spoke with the driver and reviewed the court order.
A senior staff member informed the event supervisor that the disputed crates would remain secured pending further direction.
Nobody was arrested in the hallway, and nobody announced a final verdict.
But the crates did not leave.
That concrete fact mattered to Mabel and the others more than a dramatic confrontation would have.
When we returned inside, Gregory was meeting with the artists in a small conference room.
He apologized for the board’s failure to examine the agreements closely.
Doris asked whether the board would pay the legal fees necessary to protect the artists’ property.
Gregory said he would bring the proposal to an emergency meeting.
Leon responded that promises about future meetings were no longer enough.
He requested a written timeline for the review and an independent process for returning contested works.
Mabel asked that each artist be contacted directly, not only through a care community administrator.
The requests were written on a large pad while everyone watched.
Bernice stood at the back of the room and said nothing until Gregory asked whether she wanted to contribute.
“I can identify the people who were told the wrong thing,” she answered.
“I’ll do that with their permission and without expecting them to forgive me.”
For once, nobody asked her to promise more.
