Mayhem in May

by Camilla Chafer

  I frowned. "She said that?"

  Karen gave a vigorous nod. "She wanted to avoid that unexpected drizzle earlier in the week and we got talking while she waited and she said just that. I can't imagine her voting for Lance, especially after I overheard him telling her she was a moron who should defer to her husband on any big money decisions."

  "Lance said that?" I gasped. Caroline and her husband were big shots around town but they were also equal partners in their substantial business success. Plus, Caroline had always been generous to the museum in terms of her time and money.

  "He did. Right before she was about to sign a check too. Everyone knows history is her passion project. I thought she'd tear the check up, right there and then!"

  "She barely looked me in the eye during the meeting earlier," I recalled.

  "Well, I'm just shocked that George could overlook you. To think I asked him for help with my taxes. I have a mind to tell him where to go! And Lance said he’s going to fire you?"

  "Seems that way. People must think I'm a troublemaker." I glanced around the room. I would have to go in very soon and conduct my own damage control. The sooner the news disappeared, the better. Even if my job were in jeopardy, the museum didn't deserve to suffer any harm to its reputation.

  "No one believes you're a troublemaker. We all know how much you love this museum, Tess."

  I gave a dejected shrug of my shoulders. Love wouldn’t be enough to keep my job, not when Lance was in charge. "It hardly matters now."

  "It does matter," Karen insisted. "Everyone knows you've practically been running this place on your own the past year, what with Artie getting ready to retire and his championing you. We all love you."

  "Oh, Karen." I reached over and hugged her. She squeezed me in return and when we parted she said, "I'll walk in with you. If anyone says anything about Lance, I'll run interference."

  I sucked in a breath and turned to the double doors across the foyer. Everything inside me longed to make a fast exit but that wasn't professional. I had to get on with things even though it appeared I'd be out of a job very soon. I would have to deal with that later. Perhaps I could freelance for a while? Or maybe take up a professor's post? More than once I'd been offered, but declined, consultancy work in the past.

  Karen and I made our way past several people who gave me nervous, sympathetic looks but didn't say a word. I waved to Artie's wife, Eleanor, so I knew my boss had to be somewhere close by. There were a couple of disapproving looks and Karen stepped in the way of an older gentleman just as he started to admonish me. As I stepped back, I bumped into someone and turned to automatically apologize.

  "Artie!" I exclaimed with relief at the sight of my boss in his fancy bowtie.

  "Tess! My favorite employee!" said Artie loudly as drew me into a warm hug in front of the curious onlookers. As he released me, he took my hands. "I don't understand," he said, his voice dropped and he drew me to the side of the room. "I walked in just as you and Lance got into it and then I spoke to George Phelps and he confirmed it. They gave Lance the job?! I don't understand."

  "You mean you didn't know?" I asked, frowning at his confused face.

  "No, I did not! I'm just as surprised as you are. Tess, I would never have given Lance my vote. Truth be told, I don't even like him all that much."

  "Really?" Artie never intimated that although I'd caught him rolling his eyes behind Lance's back more than a few times.

  "No. The snivelling, little brown-noser spends all his time yakking on the phone without actually doing anything work-related. Plus, he's not nearly as qualified as you are to run a museum. I said as much to George just now."

  "You did?"

  Artie nodded, his face growing more serious. "Certainly did. George must have lost his mind. I want you to know that I recommended you as my natural successor. How in tarnation they went with Lance is one of life's mysteries but I told them they'll be making a big mistake if they take him on. I heard what he said about firing you too. This place would fall apart without you, Tess."

  "I'm flattered, Artie, but it sounds like I'll be out of a job soon."

  "This must be the stupidest thing the board ever did," ranted Artie. His face reddened and he swung his wine glass in a wide arc. "If I catch up with that boy, I'll tell him exactly what I think of him!" He coughed loudly and his red face deepened.

  "Try and stay calm, Artie," I advised him. I patted his arm gently as he recovered from his bout of coughing. "I'm glad to know you did recommend me and it's almost a relief to hear you're as surprised as I am but the board obviously decided that he was a better fit; and Lance made up his mind to run me out. I don't think there is anything either of us can do."

  "I'll talk to the board again and if they stick by this stupid decision, I promise I'll work the phones tomorrow and recommend you to everyone I know in the business. You can count on me," said Artie. He breathed deeper and I was relieved to see his color returning to normal after the coughing fit.

  "Let's talk tomorrow. Tonight we're here to celebrate you and the new exhibition. I don't want this spat to ruin any of that."

  "George said both you and Lance are supposed to stand next to me to cut the ribbon. I bet that photo will look great in the newspaper tomorrow!"

  "We'll have to grin and bear it." I curled my lips in a fake smile and Artie laughed.

  "It's a good job those prop scissors aren't sharp or I might give Lance a nudge out the door with the pointed ends," said Artie. "It's just like him to make a scene then run off so no one can take him to task! He's not even man enough to come back in here. Instead, he's left you to it. Oh, I'm sorry, Tess. Here, I am, getting all wound up like an old man and it's you who's comforting me. Ignore this old fool."

  "You are far from an old fool," I told him, smiling. I turned as a shadow stopped to my right. If it were Lance coming to gloat, I might stamp on his foot. Accidentally, of course. Keeping my face blank, I turned to see who joined us. As soon as I saw it was Ethan, my nerves calmed.

  "I thought you could use another drink since you seemed to have lost yours," he said, passing me a glass.

  "Thank you." I accepted it gratefully and took a long sip.

  "Everything okay?" he asked, frowning.

  Artie and I exchanged glances and both pulled faces. Between us, Ethan looked from me to Artie and back again. "You mean you didn't hear?" I asked, wondering if he were the only guest who stepped out during my furious argument with Lance.

  "I did," he said, pointing upwards to the mezzanine floor. "And from what I hear, the promotion is a total surprise to everyone."

  "You could say that," said Artie.

  "I hoped I might still get that tour? Is now a good time?"

  "Now's the perfect time," said Artie. He gave me a nudge towards the architect. "Tess, take Ethan on the tour while I find out what's going on."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Sure as anything. Be back here in fifteen minutes for the ribbon cutting ceremony so we can get it over with," added Artie.

  "Oh, Artie, I'm so sorry. This has really soured your big send-off."

  "And not one bit of it is your fault. In fact, I might make a last minute change to my speech," he said, while shooing us back into the foyer. He tapped his watch. "Fifteen minutes."

  "I really should say thank you," I said as Ethan and I stepped into the empty foyer.

  "What for?"

  "For taking me out of there," I replied, nodding to the room we just left. A few curious glances followed us. "I'm sure there are plenty of people who have something to say about what happened."

  "Any of their opinions worth a dime?"

  "Some. The board members, the patrons... oh, this is all so embarrassing." I restrained my desire to drop my face into my palms.

  "Will you really resign?" asked Ethan.

  "I don't know. Maybe. I need a job and there aren't any other museum jobs around here. But working for Lance? No, thanks."

  "I met him a few days ago." Ethan grim
aced.

  "I probably shouldn't say anything more. I've been indiscreet enough."

  "Which way?" asked Ethan, looking around, apparently happy enough to change the subject.

  "This way," I told him. "We'll start upstairs and work our way down. It'll be a speedy fifteen-minute tour so I apologize for that. I hope you don't mind? If you come back tomorrow, I can give you a longer one."

  "Fifteen minutes will be enough to form some first impressions."

  We took the grand staircase up and stepped onto the broad landing. "This area has been designated for art depicting the original owners of the house," I explained as we paused under a large oil painting of a couple with five children. The three girls all wore frilly dresses and large bows in their hair while the two boys looked like young gentleman already in suits that mimicked their father's. "The art came with the house, and with the exception of some minor restoration work, the house is exactly as it was when the town took possession. This is our benefactor and his family. Originally, all the rooms on this floor were bedrooms with one upstairs parlor that had the best light. One of the bedrooms is still fully intact with all the furniture but we've had to move items from the other bedrooms into storage to make way for temporary exhibitions."

  "You don't want to display them all?"

  "Back when Artie took over, it was very much a house museum dedicated to how the original family lived; but Artie found that paying visitors prefer new and touring exhibitions, since they’re always seeking something different to see. Instead of selling off the furnishings, they're in secure storage and occasionally rotated." We stopped to allow Ethan time to step into the one original bedroom.

  "The bedrooms are all generously sized and some interconnect so we can play host to small exhibitions up here. Currently, we're specializing in fashion and this room is dedicated to jewelry and small adornments that don't fit in the main exhibition space. You can't see it but there's a door here that leads up to the attic space that we use for temporary storage and access to the roof," I told him, moving back the sweeping velvet curtain so he could see the door concealed in the paneling.

  "I love a secret door," he said, grinning.

  "Me too. We don't let visitors up there but every so often, the staff goes up to enjoy the amazing view from the roof. There's a small widow’s walk to the edge that I guess the original owners enjoyed for the same reason. These three rooms were once the girls' bedrooms. They contain a collection of fashion and photography that we found in the archives of the town library and newspaper; we enlarged them and printed them on cardboard." I stopped talking to let Ethan walk around in peace, pausing in front of the mannequins and reading the descriptions. He stopped by the window and looked out, his hands clasped behind his back. When he turned, he smiled, and the soft summer evening light caught him like a golden halo. "There're great views over Main Street."

  "It's lovely at all times of the day," I agreed. I checked my watch. The upstairs tour took a little longer than I expected and despite everything that happened, I really did want to hear Artie's speech and join in his well-deserved applause. "I'll take you downstairs. I can't show you the new exhibition yet because the room is closed to stop tonight's guests from peeking in until we officially open it later, but I can show you everything else. When you come back, I'll take you down to the basement kitchen, which is the only other fully preserved original room."

  "Lead on."

  "This is the servants’ staircase," I told him as we descended. "It goes all the way from the basement to the attic and the roof. We access the employees’ wing from here too. It made it easier for the servants to get around the house without being seen by the family or their guests so it's not quite as grand as the main staircase. Here's the dining room, which is currently being used for the weaponry exhibit. We have all kinds of small weapons and armaments and some very well-preserved Civil War Army uniforms. Almost everything is on loan from the local re-enactment society but we provide all the glass cases." I indicated Ethan should walk around and he did while I moved over to the door that led to the foyer, ready to exit when he finished. As I passed a small case, I gulped. Someone left it open! I shut the lid softly and slipped the catch shut. Unfortunately, I didn't have the keys with me but I made a mental note to get them and lock the case as soon as possible. Some of the daggers inside were pricey and I didn't want to explain to the board how we lost one of the pieces.

  "Does the society only re-enact famous battles?" he asked, joining me.

  "Oh, no. They love dressing up for any kind of memorable event. In December, they dress up as Victorian carolers. You must have seen them?"

  "I have. Are all these uniforms really authentic?"

  "They are but they have lots of reproduction pieces for their different performances."

  As we stepped into the cool foyer, I heard a clinking of glasses and the sound levels reducing. "It sounds like the speech is starting. Do you mind if we postpone the rest of the tour?"

  "That's absolutely fine. I enjoyed what I saw so far and already have some ideas forming."

  I smiled, happily now. I had a good feeling about Ethan. As I watched him move around, I noticed his interest in the museum seemed genuine. Even though I hadn't seen his plans, I was sure the outbuildings would be in good hands with him. Just as long as Lance didn't screw things up!

  We walked into the room to see the backs of guests as they faced the other side of the room. Artie waited there, along with George, beside the red ribbon, ready to open the exhibition.

  "It's with great pleasure that I present this watch to Artie as our sincere gratitude for his many years of service and we look forward to welcoming him back as a guest with a lifetime membership to the museum," said George. Artie smiled and took the small box and envelope George handed him. Ethan and I joined in with the applause.

  "Thank you all," started Artie, his voice rising over the clapping. "I'm not a man for speeches. You know I like to keep it short. I just want to say thank you for all your support over these years--" He paused, searching the crowd and when his eyes met mine, he waved me over. I handed my glass to Ethan and hurried forwards, taking his outstretched hands in mine. "I couldn't have done it these last few years without my wonderful deputy, Tess, a real shining star in the museum world. Tess, I hoped to leave the museum in good hands with you."

  "Thank you, Artie. Let's give him another round of applause," said George, clapping loudly before Artie could say anything else. The photographer snapped a series of photos and gave them the thumbs-up.

  Artie half-turned his head from the crowd and rolled his eyes at me.

  "Where's Lance?" asked George quietly, leaning towards us. "He's supposed to be here."

  "He's not?" I asked, glancing around but I couldn't see him. I could understand his hiding until now, but missing the moment to share the limelight? That was not at all like Lance.

  "Shame," said Artie without any emphasis. "We best cut the ribbon. Tess?"

  "You cut it and have your photo in the paper," I said, stepping back to give Artie his moment. "I'll get the doors."

  Artie simply shook his head and held up the oversized scissors, levering them open next to the gigantic bow. "Tess has done all the hard work on this one and I'm sure you'll enjoy it as much as I do. For the final time, I declare this exhibition open!" he said and the camera flash popped.

  As the ribbon fluttered to the ground, I opened the doors and stood back, pleased at all the gasps. I knew the exhibition would be a big hit.

  Then someone screamed.

  Slowly, I turned from the crowd's agonized faces and saw what had them rooted to the spot.

  In the middle of the podium where several mannequins wearing the exhibited fashions should have been displayed sat Lance Fleming, his legs splayed, eyes glassy, and a dagger embedded through his heart.

  Chapter Four

  "You're the one that found him?" Detective Logan looked down at me with sharp green eyes and waited. Tall, with dark red hair, and
dressed in a leather jacket, he stood out from the evening crowd.

  "Not exactly," I replied. "I didn't find him... That is, I just opened the doors and there he was. Dead for everyone to see." I trailed off as I shot an uncertain glance towards the former library. Two police officers in uniform flanked the doors beyond and crime tape was pulled taut across the opening. It was an hour after our grim discovery and the initial panic had subsided. Our guests were now corralled in other parts of the museum and I was sure speculation abounded. Someone murdered Lance Fleming but who? I glanced around nervously. Was his killer still here?

  "Ms. Hernandez?"

  "I'm sorry?" The detective was speaking and I entirely missed whatever he said.

  "Were the doors locked?" he repeated.

  "No. We had a ribbon across them so no one could go inside before the official opening." I glanced towards the crime scene tape that now replaced the thick red ribbon.

  "But anyone could have opened the doors? Perhaps ducked under the ribbon?"

  "I guess but I don't see how. The library was full of people. Someone would have seen someone going inside without authorization."

  "They might not have noticed if said person was a museum employee."

  "I suppose so." I nodded. It wouldn't be out of the ordinary for an employee to move around the museum and the guests wouldn't have known that the new exhibition was entirely off limits for everyone until the grand opening. Then I caught the detective's meaning. "Oh, no! Surely you don't think one of my colleagues did such a horrible thing to Lance?"

  "I can't rule anyone out, ma'am," he said grimly.

  "I'm not even sure why Lance was in there. He wasn't supposed to be. No one was."

  "Why not?"

  I explained to the detective that Artie warned everyone to keep out once we made our final preparations; then I added, "Plus, Lance didn't have anything to do with the exhibition spaces or any of the displays."

  "So it would be unusual for him to be in the exhibition ahead of the opening?"

  "Yes. He had no need to be in that room at all."