“However, if you want to press charges for defacing your painting, it will have to stay in evidence.”
Tabitha shook her head. “If they catch the murderer, I’m sure they will catch the person who defaced the painting. I would like to finish this commission so I can get on with other commissions that are stacking up as well as starting on the paintings for my new show.”
As he turned to walk back to his fiancée, she said, “Thank you, Charles for doing this for me. I owe you one.”
He stopped, looking over his shoulder. “You saved my life and my sister’s life. One little enquiry doesn’t cancel that.”
As he turned to walk back to Eugenia, Tabitha looked at Lady Brittanie who was obviously fighting tears.
“What is it?” Tabitha asked concerned.
“His tie.” Sobs nearly choked her voice.
“His tie?” Tabitha looked toward him. “What about his tie? It looked like it was old, but I really liked the reindeer.”
“I gave that to him the Christmas before I was forced to leave him. He’s kept it all these years and he even wears it.”
“Listen.” Tabitha turned her head toward their table. Lady Brittanie did the same.
Eugenia’s voice came faintly across the dining room. “Charles. I can’t believe you wore that ratty Christmas tie to lunch at the Dorchester.”
She reached across the table to poke the offending tie. Charles’ father looked stuffed. A wave of red flooded Charles’ face. He grabbed her hand. “Leave my tie alone. I will wear this when I want to. I don’t want any comments about it. My mother gave it to me the Christmas before she died.” His voice was like a slap in the face.
Eugenia’s face flamed. Tears began rolling down her cheeks.
Tabitha would have sworn, though, that she was angry, not hurt. This was a woman who seemed to know all the worst feminine tricks that women used to keep their men in line.
Tabitha caught Lady Brittanie’s eye.
Her face was soft, her eyes full of tears, her voice a whisper. “I can’t believe he kept it. I was sure my ex would have destroyed it.”
Maurice stopped at their table. “My dear Madam, is your meal not up to our standards. You don’t seem to be enjoying it.” His thin face will filled with anxiety.
“Oh no, Maurice. The meal is lovely. It is just that our conversation is disturbing.”
She looked at Tabitha. “No more such talk. We are two women have a lunch at the most exciting place in town. We should make the most of it.”
Maurice picked up their plates. “I will have these warmed for you.”
Lady Brittanie reached across the table to grab Tabitha’s hand. “We will win, you and I. We will make an unbeatable team. Do not let your morality get in the way of more important matters.”
When he brought back their plates a few minutes later, Lady Brittanie said, “Maurice, I must have a Mocha Dacquoise Cake. A slice for each of us. It is Christmas and we must give ourselves a little present.”
Tabitha smiled. “Lady Brittanie, if you don’t mind, I believe I would prefer a Pain au Chocolat. I am allergic to coffee.”
“But of course, dear child. Maurice?” He nodded and went to the server who returned with a plate of Mocha Dacquoise Cake and a Chocolate croissant. He bowed as he set them on the table.
As they finished their dessert, Lady Brittanie gasped. At first Tabitha thought she was upset, but when she looked up she saw that her face was shining with delight.
“Darling, do come with me. I want you to meet a friend who had done nothing but talk about you since she purchased one of your haunted paintings. I will be her new best friend if I introduce you.”
Lady Brittanie walked past Charles’ table completely ignoring Eugenia’s wave. “My dear Alyssa. It is so good to see you up and around. Your sickness is gone now?”
“Brittanie, darling. I didn’t know you were up from the wilds of Kent. It is so good to see you.”
“Ah, yes. I came up to do my Christmas shopping. Michael has a bunch of hush-hush meetings with the Prime Minister. All this war is not good for the digestion.”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure Christmas shopping is good for the digestion, either.”
Lady Alyssa was short, plump and beautifully dressed. Her make-up would have been suitable for a much younger woman, her hair was a teased beehive. Her laugh reminded Tabitha of a donkey.
“Be grateful you don’t have thirteen children to shop for. Now that is be tiring.”
“But darling, you don’t have thirteen children, only three.”
“No, but I do have thirteen grandchildren. They are all wonderful, but what to buy for them? Only the youngest are easy.”
Alyssa, I want you to meet my young friend. This is Tabitha Black. The Tabitha Black who painted your haunted cemetery.”
Alyssa jumped to her feet to hug Tabitha. “I love your picture even though my youngest grandchildren won’t come into my bedroom since I hung it on the wall.”
Not knowing what to say, Tabitha smiled.
“But why no one man show? I was counting on you.”
Tabitha flinched back slightly, her eyes wide. “You were? I don’t believe we’ve met before.”
“We haven’t. I had decided to purchase paintings at your one-man show for Christmas presents and then you don’t have one. How could you do this to me. My children will think I’m the most blasé mother.”
She lowered her voice. “Each year I try to find each of them one spectacular gift. Your paintings were it for this year. Now—I don’t know what to do. I am going to be a failure at Christmas time. They will all be disappointed.”
She looked so sad, Tabitha thought she would cry. “I’m sorry. I have a really big commission to finish before the end of December so no time to have a one-man show.”
Lord Albert reached over and patted his wife’s hand. “It will be alright, my sweet. I’m sure you will find something that they will love.”
“That is easier said than done and you know it. They have everything.”
Tabitha’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “I have an idea. I’m not sure how you’ll like it, though.
“What is it?” Lady Alyssa asked curiously.
“What if you give me a price range. I could print up some gift certificates for a painting of their choice. After Christmas, they can redeem the gift certificate. I could paint what they want, an original Tabitha Black painting of their choice.”
Lady Alyssa was on her feet so quickly that her chair slid back, nearly tipping over. “Are you serious? Could you do four large sized ones?”
“Not all at the same time, but after Christmas I will have more available time. Of course, the price would depend on the size and the content. I charge more for portraits because they take more time.”
Tabitha reached into her purse. “Here’s my card. You can give me a call after you decide what you want to do. Okay?”
Alyssa hugged her again. “Wonderful. Wonderful. You have solved all my problems except--” She looked at Tabitha. “What do you buy teenagers who have everything?”
Tabitha laughed. “I’d suggest gift certificates or take them shopping, let them pick out half a dozen things they want, then you can pick from their choices. That way it’s a surprise for them.”
“You truly are brilliant. I will call you tomorrow and set things up.”
Tabitha couldn’t help beaming as they walked by Charles’ table. That scene would lie in Eugenia and Charles memories. It would be a thorn in Eugenia’s side.”
Of course, if I’m arrested, I can refund the money, I suppose. Tabitha thought as they left the Dorchester.
Chapter 15—Tabitha’s Flat—three days later
Tabitha felt like she had been dragged backward through a knothole when she pushed open the door to her flat. “Courtney, I’m back.”
Tabitha frowned when there was no answer. Courtney was supposed to be there. They were going to dinner before Courtney caught the train back to Gh
ost Haven. Since the car accident that had killed her father, Courtney wasn’t comfortable driving for long distances especially in the dark.
“Courtney?” Tabitha looked for a note in the normal place but it was empty.
She turned her head. What was that sound? It sounded a lot like the thud she’d heard when Duval had been murdered. It sounded like it was coming from her studio.
If there’s someone in the studio that isn’t supposed to be there, I really will commit murder. Tabitha’s thought was grim. Especially if they’ve hurt Courtney.
Tabitha looked around for a weapon. Her eyes quickly found a heavy glass statue shaped like a goose looking upward. It had been the gift of a former client. Tabitha hated it, but Courtney loved it.
Tabitha’s hand closed around the goose’s neck. Raising it above her head, she tiptoed to the door into the hall. She cautiously looked around the door frame. Nothing.
Making sure to stay to the side of the hall where the floor didn’t creak, she crept toward her studio.
As she passed the kitchen, she looked in. Courtney was lying on the floor, one hand flung above her head, one hand out to the side.
There was a scratching sound in her studio.
Her heart in her throat, she took two steps into the kitchen, stooped down and felt for a pulse in Courtney’s throat. Her relief made her knees weak. The pulse was there, strong and steady. It looked like she had fainted, then Tabitha noticed a small puddle of blood near Courtney’s head. Cautiously, her hands shaking, tears running down her cheeks, she checked Courtney’s head. There was a bump and a smallish cut on the bump.
Courtney moaned, pushing away Tabitha’s hands. “I’ll be right back.” Tabitha listened closely, then using her hands to push to her feet, she tiptoed to the door of the studio. A weedy looking man dressed in black with a black ski mask over his head was trying to unlock the closet where she kept the paintings she was working on.
“Hit my best friend will you?” Her rage surfaced. “Attack my paintings will you?” The rage went white hot.
Before he could look at her, the lock clicked. Reining in her rage at the last second, she brought the goose down on his head. Glass went everywhere as he slumped to the floor.
She shook her head, looking that the shattered pieces of goose. She was going to have to put Jerret’s cell number on speed dial. She pulled out her phone as she bent to check his pulse
Chapter 16—London, Leland Cabot’s home
Early the next morning, Tabitha knocked on the door of Leland Cabot’s home. While she waited for the door to open, she looked around. The detached home was a big square box with two floors and a basement. Made of yellow brick, the Victorian home was across the street from Wandsworth Common.
There was a large wreath on the front door. There was a wreath hanging in each window with a battery-operated candle centered within the wreath. Two small trees stood on each side of the door wrapped in blinking Christmas lights. Lights lined the walkway and accented the bare branches of the trees on the lawn.
The door opened. Liu Soong stood framed in the doorway. She was nearly eight inches shorter than Tabitha’s 5’6” height.
She was wearing a long, silk tunic with bright red woven dragons over black leggings and black slippers.
“Miss Black. Do come in. I am so glad that you have decided to finish your paintings here. I have everything I believe you will need to finish them.”
“Thank you, Ms. Soong. The last two dance canvases should be arriving in a few minutes. I waited until they were loaded before I left my flat.”
A truck pulled up out front. Tabitha turned to look at it. “It looks like they are here.”
Liu stepped back into the foyer. “James, please have the movers bring the paintings around to the studio door. I don’t want them going through the house.”
She smiled at Tabitha. “I have a woman’s committee meeting here in a few minutes. I’d love to cancel it, but they’d probably kill me.
Tabitha stood for a moment watching the three men unload the first painting. James stepped up to the first man, said something and then led the way around the back of the house.
Liu motioned for Tabitha to enter the house.
“Thank you, but I’d rather wait and make sure no one decides to mess with the other paintings.” Although her voice was calm, quiet, her face was stormy, bitter.
Liu shut the door while Tabitha stood watching the back end of the truck. A few minutes later, she came out wearing an elegant leopard coat. When Tabitha looked surprised, she said, “I think it best to have both of us watch the truck. My husband would have a heart attack if anything more happened to his paintings or to you.”
“I’m glad he thinks I’m as important as the paintings.” Tabitha tried hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
Either Liu didn’t hear her tone or chose to ignore it because she said, “I hope the studio will work for you. It isn’t as big as your studio at the theatre.”
“It will be fine, I’m sure. I only have a few touch ups on each picture and they will all be done except for the Duval painting and the Nutcracker paintings. They aren’t far enough along to worry about damage yet.”
Liu frowned. “I’m glad I talked Leland into putting the Nutcracker paintings on the mezzanine. I dread each production of the dance.”
Tabitha smiled as James and the three men came from around the house, carrying the rack they used to carry the painting.
“I’m sorry you don’t enjoy the Nutcracker. It’s one of my favorites. My parents always took me see it no matter where they were stationed. Sometimes it was a ballet given by a world-famous company. Other times it was a production put on by a high school. It didn’t matter I loved watching it. It was the start of the Christmas season for me.”
“I’m sure you just loved the mice.” Her tone was caustic.
“Actually, no. I was in love with the giant Nutcracker. I used to dream that I was Clara and he was the man I was going to marry.”
Liu cracked a smile. “I hope he was more handsome than many of the Nutcracker’s I’ve seen.”
Tabitha thought about Charles. Since she was sixteen, the Nutcracker had had Charles’ face.
“Much handsomer.” Tabitha laughed. “If I remember right, in my last dream the Nutcracker was not only more handsome but much more supple.”
Liu barely cracked a smile.
Tabitha waited until the truck drove away, then followed Liu into the house.
“Come.” She turned walking down a long hall toward the back of the house.
Tabitha wanted to stop and gawk at each room, but Liu seemed supremely indifferent to the beauty of her home.
At the very back of the house was a large north facing room. Tabitha’s paints and brushes were laid out on a paper covered table. Each picture was propped up against the walls, covered with painter’s cloths.
“I set up appointments with each of the dancers.” Liu looked at her watch. “Candita will be here in twenty minutes. Is that too soon?”
Tabitha looked at her watch. “No. I can get changed and set up in that time. Even if it is a rush, I want to be done with this project.
Liu put her hand on Tabitha’s arm. “Please don’t be in such a hurry that you ruin the paintings. I am sorry for all the problems the paintings have caused.”
Tabitha could feel the hairs on the back of her neck rise. No one had ever accused her of ruining one of her paintings.
“I can assure you that I won’t ruin them.” Her voice would have made a snow cone seem warm.
Liu slapped at her forehead. “There I have done it again. I have offended you.”
She took Tabitha’s hand. “My dear. I know you won’t ruin the paintings. I am concerned because of the stress you are under. Is your roommate going to be okay?”
“Yes. He didn’t really hit her hard, thank heavens. He told Inspector Jarret that he had been hired to damage the paintings, not paid to hurt someone and he wasn’t going to do it wi
thout a ‘whopping’ big payment.”
Liu frowned. “Surely he told them who paid him.”
Tabitha shook her head, a sad grin pasted on her face. “No. He said his life wouldn’t be worth much if he told. He’d rather end up in jail again.”
When Liu looked at her watch, Tabitha grabbed her bag. “If you’ll point me in the direction of a bathroom, I’ll get changed. I don’t want to irritate Candita. She might know something about Duval. Something that will break this case.
Chapter 17—Cabot’s home
Eight hours later, Tabitha cleaned her last brush and palette. She settled wearily in her chair. “What a marathon.”
She rolled her chair to stand in front of the first painting she had finished. Candita had been a sweetheart to work with. Young, fair, ambitious, but humble she had held her pose, on one toe with her leg pulled up over her head, for what seemed like forever without grumbling once.
She had told Tabitha that Jess Duval only had the affair with Cabot to make the man she really cared about jealous. Candita hadn’t know his name. Jess had been very secretive about her relationship. She was sure he was going to leave his wife for her. He was also a big wig as Jess called him. She wouldn’t want to have him lose his job.
The only thing of interest was a list of five-star restaurants that her lover had taken her to. When she left, Tabitha jotted down their names. Maybe Farmer or Deacon could take a picture around. Maybe someone would know who her lover was.
Tabitha gently touched her touch-ups. They were nearly dry. Another hour or two and that painting could be locked in the closet.
She rolled over to look at the second painting. She’d loved doing the background for Scheherazade. It had been a deep royal blue with minaret and dome and thieves done in various shades of blue. Babette’s pose had been a jump where both her legs were straight out, one arm out and one straight up. She’d done that one from a photograph.
Babette hadn’t known anything about Jess. Her lip had curled when she said they had nothing in common other than Babette had avoided her. Duval was a troublemaker.
The Ghost Dances the Nutcracker Page 10