Flames, Frames, & Murder

by Jenna St James

  “Let’s check out the back,” I said. “Sophia’s studio is back there. Make sure it’s locked before we stakeout Carmen’s place.

  We crept around the back of the house, careful not to make too much noise in case Victor was actually home. I didn’t want to try and explain what we were doing here. Although, he’d probably appreciate the fact we were double checking and making sure Sophia’s studio was locked.

  “It’s a mess back here,” Jax said.

  “Yeah, we interrupted Wyatt yesterday morning. He was just starting on the backyard.”

  We walked farther down the backyard to Sophia’s art studio. It was like an upgraded she shed complete with electricity and running water. Peeking in through the window, I saw a couple paintings on easels and two or three propped up against different walls. Jax tugged on the front door but it didn’t budge.

  “Why do you think they didn’t take anything out here?” I asked.

  “Maybe because the paintings aren’t totally finished and it would be obvious if they tried to sell them?”

  I nodded. “That makes sense. Let’s go to Carmen’s house. Everything looks secure here.”

  Jax and I stepped over the mess in the backyard and headed toward the Jeep.

  “Sophia must really have liked hydrangeas,” Jax mused. “There’re so many.”

  “Hmm?” I wasn’t really paying attention to what she said. I was too busy trying to figure out how Carmen and Marco were connected. “What did you just say?”

  “I said Sophia must really have liked hydrangeas. Look at them all.”

  I cast a glance at the side of the house lined with hydrangea pots. And just like that pieces started to fit together. I stopped and closed my eyes, my mind racing with facts, motives, and alibis.

  “You got something, don’t you?” Jax asked.

  I opened my eyes and grinned. “I got about eighty percent of this mystery solved. I’m still confused on a couple things, though. C’mon. I need you to call Heidi and tell her to haul butt over to Carmen’s house. We’ve had this all wrong.”

  “I so want to know!” Jax exclaimed.

  “I’ll tell you on the ride there!”

  We sprinted to the Jeep, and as I peeled out of the driveway, Jax called Heidi and told her to meet us at Carmen’s house.

  My insides tingled with excitement and nerves. It was the mention of the flowers that made everything click. I remember thinking Carmen had to be a robot because she had nothing personal in her house…except for the hydrangea plant. The very same plant, down to the exact same blue color and clay pot, that Wyatt was planting for Sophia.

  Chapter 16

  “Wow,” Jax said once I told her my theory, “you’re sure it’s Wyatt Davidson and Carmen Hollins?”

  I glanced at her briefly as I sped through the deserted streets of Traveler’s Bay.

  “The flowers are the same,” I said. “I thought it odd Carmen had nothing personal in her house except for a hydrangea.”

  Jax grabbed hold of the “oh poop” handle when I took Sequoia Street on two wheels. “Driving a little fast there, Jaycee.”

  I glanced at the clock on the dash. “Gramps said I had to open Gone with the Whiskey today. I don’t have long to get this wrapped up.”

  “So what’s your theory?” Jax asked. “This all seems kind of flimsy.”

  “Like I said, I don’t have it all just yet. But Carmen and Wyatt have to know each other somehow. I am certain that Wyatt is the one who shot and killed Sophia because Carmen has an airtight alibi.

  Jax snorted. “I think we need to call Mike and have him meet us there.”

  “Mike’s interrogating Carl and won’t pick up.”

  Jax frowned. “So is Carl even involved?”

  “I don’t think so, but I can’t say for sure.”

  Jax huffed and turned to glare at me. “Do you really have any idea what’s going on? It doesn’t sound like it.”

  I grinned. “Not really. Like I said, I have bits and pieces. We’ll need a confession.”

  “Oh, boy. That doesn’t sound good.”

  “Call the girls and tell them we’re almost there. They are not to go inside until we get there.”

  I thought about what I knew about Wyatt Davidson. He seemed to be a legitimate landscaper, so I had to wonder how it was he really met Sophia. Because her story of it being a chance meeting at a home improvement store sounded more like a set up on Wyatt’s part to me. I was willing to believe Wyatt had her in his sights early on.

  “Umm, Jaycee?”

  I looked at Jax then instinctively pressed down harder on the accelerator. “Yeah?”

  “We may have a problem,” she said. “Neither Heidi nor Bridget is answering their cell phone.”

  As I turned onto Carmen’s street, I saw Heidi’s car parked two houses down from the house. There was no one inside the car. Parking, Jax and I jumped out and headed toward Carmen’s.

  “Look.” I pointed to Carmen’s driveway where Wyatt’s work truck was parked. “I think that’s pretty good proof.”

  “I agree.” Jax reached behind her back and whipped out her knife. “Remind me to tell Gramps I like the new belt.” Gramps had given her a new carry concealed belt to sheath the knife he’d bought her.

  We ran up the driveway and peered into the back of Wyatt’s truck. Not surprising, a black tarp was draped over the truck bed. I lifted one side.

  “We won’t know until we open them,” I said, “but I’m assuming those are the paintings wrapped in that tarp.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  I heard angry shouts from inside the house and then saw the garage door start to slowly open. Reaching down, I grabbed two sharp stakes Wyatt had used in the Brockman’s backyard yesterday to hold the tarp in place. At the same time, Jax grabbed my wrist and dragged me to the side of the house and around to the back.

  “If you won’t let me call Mike,” Jax hissed, “then at least let me call Gramps.”

  “Let’s just see what’s going on,” I said. “There are ground-level windows over there.”

  I ducked down low and ran to the back windows. I could still hear voices inside, but now they were muffled. Inching my way to the windows, I leaned over and peered inside. Wyatt stood over the table and gathered the edges of a black tarp. He then taped the tarp closed over a framed picture. Lifting the artwork off the table, he turned and carried it out of the room.

  We had them. Both of them. I just couldn’t figure out how unemployed Carmen Hollins and landscaper Wyatt Davidson knew each other. He was from Novato, and she just moved to Traveler’s Bay a couple months ago via San Francisco.

  I was about to tell Jax to call Gramps when my phone vibrated in my pocket. Cursing, I dug the phone out and looked at the display.

  “Don’t you dare,” Jax whispered. “We’re a little busy here.”

  “I think it’s the last person I’ve been trying to reach.”

  “We obviously know Wyatt is a bad guy,” Jax said.

  I slid my finger over the phone and held it up to my ear but away from my face so Jax could hear.

  “Hello?” I spoke as loud as I dared but an octave lower. “This is Jaycee Sullivan.”

  “Hi. My name is Deloris Lindell. You called yesterday about Wyatt Davidson.”

  She sounded a lot like the lady from this morning, elderly and sweet. “Yes. I’m afraid I won’t be needing any more information on Mr. Davidson. I’ve seen enough of him to know his work ethic.”

  There was a brief pause. I’m sure she had no idea what to make of my strange remark. “It’s probably for the best. I still don’t know what to make of him myself.”

  That intrigued me.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Jax gave me the big eyes and the universal symbol for me to wrap it up. I gave her the big eyes back.

  “Well, had you asked me about Mr. Davidson two months ago, I would have sung his praises. Now I’m not so sure.”

  “Can you el
aborate?”

  “Well, dearie, I don’t want to talk out of turn,” Deloris said, “especially because I don’t have any proof.”

  “Humor me, please.”

  “Wyatt Davidson came to do landscape work for me about three months ago. He did a wonderful job. He was so nice and personable. If I needed help with other things around the house, he was quick to help. I once needed a table moved and he did it. No extra charge.” She paused, and it was all I could do not to yell at her to hurry up. “One day he stopped in front of a painting I had on my wall. I asked him if he liked it and he said yes. We got to talking about artwork, and he told me his sister would love the painting.”

  Something in the back of my mind started to tingle, but I knew I needed to focus on what Deloris was saying.

  “His sister?” I asked.

  “Yes. He didn’t talk much about his family, just told me that he had a sister who worked in an art gallery in San Francisco. That’s why I remember him making that comment.”

  A sister. And hadn’t he told me the other day when I asked if he had family affected by the fires that his sister didn’t live in Santa Rosa so she was safe.

  “So what made you change your mind about Wyatt Davidson?” I asked.

  “Last month my house was broken into,” Deloris said, “and one of the things taken was that painting. I know that doesn’t prove anything, but I decided to tell the police about him. I learned later that he had a solid alibi for that night. He’d been at a fundraiser in a different town. There was nothing they could do. But it still bothered me. Still does. I mean, what would be the chances of him telling me his sister would love the painting and then two months later I’d get robbed and the painting would be stolen?”

  Chances are high, considering he has an accomplice.

  “Do you know the sister’s name?” I asked.

  “No, I’m sorry.”

  I sighed in frustration. “And I’m sure you never saw her.”

  “Actually, I think I did. One day when we were in the kitchen having coffee, his phone rang. I remember looking down at the display and seeing a woman’s photo pop up. He told me it was his sister and he needed to answer the call.”

  I sucked in my breath. “Do you remember what she looked like?”

  “Yes. Long white-blonde hair with a mole next to her mouth.”

  Bingo! And now we have Carmen!

  Jax’s mouth fell open, and I nodded my head, grinning like an idiot. We now had all the puzzle pieces, we just needed to fit them together.

  “Thanks, Ms. Lindell. You’ve been a huge help.” I hung up and slid the phone in my pocket. “Now we know how Carmen fits in.”

  “That’s what they do, isn’t it?” Jax asked. “They alibi for each other. During Sophia’s murder, Carmen made sure she was somewhere where others would remember her. Just like Wyatt did with Mrs. Lindell. I bet Carmen was the one who did that robbery and Wyatt had the airtight alibi.”

  “I’d say you’re right,” I said. “And I bet when we delve in deeper, we’ll see that’s why she had Paul Renault’s name in her calendar.”

  “It’s fitting together,” Jax said.

  “I think it’s time you called Gramps. I’m going to call Mike and let him know to meet us here, but we may need immediate backup, which is why Gramps needs to get here.”

  “Or you could just call the police,” Jax said dryly.

  “I’m sure Gramps will do that,” I said. “We don’t have time to waste. Obviously Heidi and Bridget are inside, and I don’t look for Wyatt and Carmen to stick around much longer.”

  “It’s two against two,” Jax said. “And all we have is a knife, stun gun, and pepper spray. You know Wyatt probably still has the gun he used to kill Sophia.”

  “I know. Make the call.”

  Chapter 17

  I hung up from my message with Mike to hear Jax say she would make sure and tell me.

  “What now?” I asked.

  “Gramps says to stay outside and not go in,” she said. “He and Duke are on their way.”

  I was about to tell her it wasn’t going to happen when there was a huge commotion inside. Jax and I turned back to the window, and I watched in horror as Wyatt picked up a shovel that had been leaning against the wall and smashed Heidi upside the head. We covered our mouths as Heidi dropped to the ground.

  “No more arguing,” I said. “They obviously mean to kill Heidi and Bridget.”

  We ducked down under the window, only our eyes and forehead showing, and watched as Carmen taped Bridget’s hands in front of her while Wyatt walked out the front door, carrying the tarped painting. I didn’t see Heidi.

  Grabbing Jax’s hand, I ran to the back door. “You got your knife. I have my weapons. I say we go in before Wyatt loses it and starts killing everyone inside.”

  “I’ve gotten pretty good with my knife throwing,” Jax said. “Trevor and I practice in the evenings.”

  I snorted. “Only you would consider knife throwing to be a fun date-night activity.”

  My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. “I’m going to assume that’s Mike telling me not to go in or telling me he’s heard I’m up to something crazy.”

  “So what do you want to do?” Jax asked.

  “I want to end this,” I said. “What about you?”

  Jax grinned and gave me a quick hug. “I’ll always be your backup, Jaycee. You know that.”

  Nodding, I gently turned the knob to the back door and slid it open, careful not to make a sound. We were standing in the kitchen. Directly in front of us was the sparsely-decorated living room we were in yesterday. Heidi and Bridget were now tied up and gagged, and blood ran down Heidi’s face.

  I handed the stakes I’d grabbed from Wyatt’s truck to Jax. “Just in case. I know you have your knife, but just in case you need more.”

  Jax grinned. “You know I love sharp objects.”

  I snorted. “Bakers. You’re all insane.”

  We shared a scared, shaky smile. I pointed to the door leading into the dining room where a ton of Carmen’s art supplies were kept. She nodded and pointed straight ahead to the living room.

  “Please be careful,” I whispered.

  “Same to you.”

  We split up, and I prayed fervently that she’d be safe. Outside of the fact Gramps and Mom would never forgive me if something happened to Jax, I didn’t think I’d ever forgive myself.

  I paused at the threshold and peered around the doorframe. I had a direct view outside to the front yard. I gasped when I saw Wyatt moving things in the back of his truck.

  Cursing under my breath, I rounded the corner and came face-to-face with Carmen. Before she could let out a scream and bring Wyatt running, I slapped a hand over her mouth.

  “I want some answers,” I hissed, “and I want them now. Why did you kill Sophia?”

  She gave a muffled response behind my hand. I let go of her mouth. “What?”

  “For her paintings, of course.”

  I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. I knew they were responsible for Sophia’s death, but to hear her say it so casually was shocking.

  “Wyatt and I saw the piece Sonoma Crossroads ran on Sophia, all her high-dollar paintings in her big fancy house. There had to be at least a quarter of a million dollars worth of paintings. That alone made them worth stealing. But if we killed her in the process, it would only drive up the monetary value of her paintings.”

  I gasped. “That’s so sick.” I stole a look outside and saw Wyatt slam his tailgate shut. I had to hurry. “So you stalked her and her husband?”

  Carmen shrugged. “Something like that. We knew we had to do something drastic to pull it off, which is why I moved up here a couple months ago. Then I made an appointment with Dr. Brockman to get that ball rolling, and a couple weeks later, Wyatt ‘happened’ to bump into Sophia.”

  “That’s elaborate and well thought out,” I said snidely.

  Carmen snorted. “Wyatt and I have been stealing artwor
k since we were kids. We love art. But this heist was going to be a little trickier. We needed a few suspects to take the heat off us. It was like a gift from above when we discovered Sophia fired her agent. Stooge number one. Then I asserted myself in Victor’s life by secretly stalking him, making sure I went to his office for a visit, sent a few altered pictures, giving credence to my claims of us having an affair. Put a wedge between the two love birds and now we have Victor, Stooge number two. Then, when Wyatt told me about Sophia being rear-ended by some hothead and how he came to her house and threatened her, we knew the universe was on our side. Wyatt found out where this guy lived, followed him home, and stole a bandana from his truck. Stooge number three.

  “That’s how you got Sophia’s cell number…your brother had it?” I asked.

  “Yes. She’d called him when she hired him.”

  I looked outside and tried not to panic. Wyatt was now standing on the edge of the lawn looking at my Jeep. “But what you didn’t count on was me. You come into my town and kill one of my friends, and I’m going to find answers.”

  Carmen threw back her head and laughed. “You aren’t going to do squat. My brother is right outside with a gun. It’s just you, and I don’t see a weapon.”

  I growled low in my throat. “How’s this for a weapon?”

  I pulled out my pepper spray and let her have it. She staggered backward into the living room and Jax chose that moment to step out from the kitchen and let her knife fly. It caught Carmen in the shoulder.

  As she screamed in pain, I saw Wyatt turn and run toward the house. Sprinting to Carmen, I doubled up my fist and whacked her against the side of her face. Her eyes rolled up in her head and down she went.

  “He’s coming inside!” I screamed to Jax. “Get in the dining room!”

  I caught Bridget’s eye, and without thinking, I yanked the bloody knife out of Carmen’s shoulder and slid it down the hardwood floor where it came to rest next to her bound hands. I cursed as the front door flew open and Wyatt barreled in, gun in hand.

  I leaped up from my squatted position and dived into the dining room as the first bullet whizzed by me and embedded itself in the wall. Scrambling on all fours, I crawled over to where Jax had gathered huge bottles of acrylic paint. She uncapped a few of the bottles and then motioned for me to do the same. When Wyatt rounded the corner, she stood and threw the first bottle. It hit him in the chest, causing the paint inside the bottle to explode in his face. He stumbled backward…his arm jerked, and the gun fired wildly again.