I buckled in. “Yeah, sure. It looks bad, like she was the one hiding behind the shop.” I held up a finger. “However, maybe the killer staged the scene to make her look suspicious. Think about it. Lots of people witnessed that argument between Megan and Fiona. What if one of those people is the killer?”
Izzie made a U-turn to head toward home. “And the killer saw an opportunity to steer the focus of the investigation on Megan.” She swerved to miss a cat darting into the road.
“On us, too. Remember, the weapon used was a painting knife. Plus, the crime scene is in our backyard. This killer is pure genius.” I rubbed my arms to fend off the chill running through me.
“Pure evil genius, you mean.” She held the wheel in a fierce, white-knuckled grip. “We have to do something.”
My gaze caught the cat’s image in the side mirror. Now situated on a bench near the bus stop, the feline licked one paw, oblivious to passersby, as if it had no interest in anyone or anything. I shifted sideways to gaze at Izzie. “I thought we already were. Isn’t that what the visit to Sammy was all about? You playing wannabe sleuth?”
“Sort of, and what we learned from Theo at the Gazette was an added bonus. I’m talking about doing whatever we can to make sure Hunter doesn’t spend one second thinking Megan is the killer.”
I picked a piece of lint off my pants. “Hmm. I hate to tell you, but the man you call a geek and a mediocre detective already has Megan’s name in his little notebook, listed under most likely to commit murder.”
Izzie slammed on the brakes, and my hands shot out to grab the dashboard before my forehead beat them to it.
“Hey! What the heck?” I grumbled under my breath.
“Don’t be so negative. Megan is my best friend. I know her better than she knows herself. No way in this universe or any other could she commit murder. I don’t care how much she hated Fiona or what kind of financial trouble she’s in, Megan wouldn’t do such a terrible thing.” She drove her words home with force.
I puckered my lips and whistled. “Now that we’ve settled that issue, what’s your plan?”
She eased off the brakes and the jeep continued down Sail Shore Drive and closer to home. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll think of something.” She turned into the driveway and killed the engine. Resting both hands in her lap, she tilted her chin and fixed her gaze on me. “This will sound strange, but I sort of feel violated. You know? My business becoming a crime scene is a lot to take in, but I’ve got to do everything I can to erase that heap of misfortune and set us back on track.”
“Izzie,” I started.
She held up one hand. “I’m sorry for focusing on what this has done to my shop and for worrying about my friend and my sister rather than grieving for the victim. I know that sounds selfish.” She hiccupped and swiped away tears that escaped and trailed down her cheeks. “On the other hand, the only way I can think of to make all of this right and clear our names is to become—what did you call me? Oh yeah, a wannabe sleuth with an agenda to find the killer.” She leaned closer. “What I want to know is, are you with me?”
I raised my arm and stuck out my hand with the palm facing her. “You had me at ‘I’ll think of something,’ because you know I’m the brains of this sister team and you’ll need my help.” I smiled.
Izzie grinned and sealed the deal with a high five. “To the sisterhood.”
Despite the serious nature of our situation, we managed to laugh. I led the way up the sidewalk. A slight drizzle fell from a cloudy sky and dotted the cement with dark gray spots. I covered the top of my head with my bag.
“Whose car is that pulling up front, I wonder?” Izzie asked with a head tilt as she caught up to stand next to me.
“What car?” I pivoted on my heel to face the lake. My breath hitched, and I flushed with heat. The black Mercedes and the man who stepped out of it were all too familiar. He wore a three-piece suit, buttoned shirt, and his signature red tie, despite the summer heat, which wasn’t a surprise. But the fact he stood here in front of my family’s home was.
“This isn’t good,” I said as he waved and walked toward us, allowing the rain to dampen his head of dark curls as if he knew it wouldn’t ruin his appearance.
“Who is he? Why isn’t this good? Please explain.” Izzie tugged at my sleeve.
“Hi, Chloe. How are you? You left in such a hurry and with no proper goodbye.” He leaned in for a hug. As he pulled away, his mouth brushed my cheek. “I’ve missed you.” The words came in a soft whisper.
Arms crossed and foot tapping, Izzie cleared her throat.
“Sorry.” I shook my head. “Izzie, this is Ross Thompson. My ex.”
“Not for long, I hope.” He winked. “Glad to meet you, Izzie.” He held up one finger. “Almost forgot. Be back in a sec.” He sprinted across the lawn to his car.
I raked fingers through my hair, my blood pressure spiking and heartbeat racing. Not for long? What was that supposed to mean? I glanced sideways at Izzie. How was I going to explain this?
Izzie murmured from the corner of her mouth while keeping her eyes on Ross. “I thought he broke up with you?”
“I lied.” The smile pasted to my face hadn’t changed.
“Why?” The word sang out in a drawl.
“Because I didn’t want to hear the lecture from Mom and Dad claiming I should’ve known better than to jump into a relationship so fast. How was I to know he’d love his job more than me? It’s not like he wore a warning sign.” Out of frustration, my smile dropped.
Ross returned. As he rested on the bottom step, his chest rose and fell. All at once, the rain poured harder. “Maybe we should go inside.” He pulled the jacket of his smoothly pressed suit over his head.
After a slight hesitation, I gripped the doorknob and led the way in.
Max sprinted across the floor, barking in a high pitch. He hopped up and down in front of Ross.
“Hey, little guy. You miss me?” He scooped Max in his arms and laughed while sloppy kisses wet his cheek.
“So, Ross. What brings you to Whisper Cove?” Izzie asked as we stood in the foyer.
Ross set Max on the floor, then discarded his jacket, draping the damp garment over one arm. A warm smile lit his face, deepening the dimple on his left cheek. “I’m here to win back this lady and bring her home.”
Chapter Seven
I drummed my fingers on the side of my coffee mug. We’d finished breakfast and remained in total silence. I guessed all three of them were in shock. I couldn’t blame them. Turning away, I faced the window, snuggled deeper in my chair, and entertained myself by watching two squirrels chase each other. They scurried around the tree trunk, weaving a coiled path, until one leaped to the ground and climbed over the neighbor’s fence.
After way too many hours of what could only be described as awkward and embarrassing, Ross had left late last night to check into a hotel. Mom and Dad had done their best to act like gracious hosts, but Izzie only sulked and glared, mostly at me. Keeping secrets hurt. Growing up, we used to share all our thoughts and every detail of our lives. Maybe being adults had taken some of that closeness away. Maybe without saying so, we both wanted to remove some of that distance between us.
“I just don’t understand.” Mom repeated the same phrase for the umpteenth time.
“Maybe that’s not what’s important, Katy.”
I pushed my mug to the side. My chest heaved as Dad squeezed Mom’s shoulder. I knew I shouldn’t be jealous of what they had together—a bond that only grew stronger with time, a love so unconditional and caring that it knew no boundaries. Maybe one day I’d find that kind of soul mate.
“Some details about my life I need to keep to myself, the deeply personal ones, especially the painful ones.” I fixed my gaze on Izzie. “I admit, those are too hard for me to talk about.” I smacked the arms of the chair and pushed off to stand. “But you’re right. I shouldn’t have lied about Ross. I should’ve said I didn’t want to discuss my relationship. That’s
what grownups are supposed to do.”
“It’s fine, Shortcake. You’ll meet the right guy someday and be as happy as your mom and I are.” Dad skirted the table and stood close as he planted a kiss on top of my head.
“You can talk to us about anything. You know that, don’t you?” Mom nodded. “We’re here to help. No judgment. No lectures. We’ll only listen, if that’s what you need.”
That promise was questionable, but why argue? “No. I’m fine. Ross and I worked out our problem. He understands I won’t get back together with him. We’re looking for different things in life. I can’t be with a man who thinks, eats, and breathes only his job and has no time for a personal relationship.” I shrugged. “I want what you have.”
“Of course you do.” Mom flanked my other side and wrapped her arms around me.
“Okay then. Are we done with the Leave It to Beaver moment? Chloe and I need to put our brains to work and figure out a new schedule for Paint with a View’s future events.” Izzie worked her mouth into a half-decent smile and motioned to me with a wave of her arm.
I guessed that meant she was no longer miffed at me. Good thing we hadn’t forgotten the forgive-and-forget part of our relationship. “What a relief Barrett called this morning to announce the shop could open. I don’t think you’d have lasted another twenty-four hours.”
“Not even that many. See you at dinner, loving and wonderful parents,” Izzie called over her shoulder as she pulled me down the hallway. “We have so much to do. Fill the calendar with events, write descriptions, set up links so guests can register, and customize our supply list for each event. Oh, and can’t forget to send out emails reminding those who signed up for the Paint Your Pet night to send in those images of their fur babies.” She squealed and clasped her hands. “I’m so excited. Aren’t you?”
I reared back my head and blinked. “Wow. How much coffee did you have this morning?”
“Why? What’s wrong?” She threw open the front door and skipped outside.
“I … Nothing.” I patted her shoulder. “Let’s get to work.”
The rain had stopped sometime during the wee hours of the morning. I sucked in several breaths of fresh air, with its rich earthy scent. Morning sunlight spread a glistening sheen on the wet grass, and lake water lapped against the shore. “Would you look at the day?” I sighed. “Isn’t everything beautiful?”
“Uh huh. You’ve been in the city too long.” Izzie clicked the remote and her vehicle answered with two beeps. “I figure we can have everything done by noon. Then I’ll have Willow type up all the events with details and add them to our website. Easy as can be.”
In minutes, we were cruising along the lake on Sail Shore Drive, headed for Artisan Alley. We stopped at the intersection at Whisper Cove Boulevard to wait for a red light. The stray cat stretched lazily across the bus stop bench.
“Some have it so easy.”
“What was that?” Izzie glanced sideways.
“Never mind. Hey!” I pointed at the corner across the street. “Isn’t that Gwen?”
An older woman with tinted brown hair, wearing a bright yellow dress and shoes to match, stood next to the street lamp. She clutched a bag to her ample chest. Gwen might be on the other side of middle age, but she certainly wasn’t frail. She carried a large frame, though I’d stop short of describing her as heavy or fat. Despite her gentle, loving personality, I’d bet she could handle most anyone who crossed her, if necessary. I frowned at where I realized my mind had taken me.
“I bet she’s decided to open her shop. Good for her.” Izzie slapped the steering wheel. “We can celebrate our openings together, right? Let’s invite her over for a drink. I’ll send out for a bottle of wine. Doesn’t that sound nice?” Izzie’s smile beamed with excitement.
My enthusiasm, however, was dampened with worry. Detective Barrett would certainly come around to question Gwen. I only hoped she was ready to answer questions and able to defend herself. She was such a sweet lady and one of Mom’s dearest friends, having known her for over twenty years. I’d hate to see her put under Barrett’s magnifying glass. Gwen had been through enough. Then again, she certainly didn’t hide the way she felt about Fiona. The editorial letter had proved that much. Not to mention the phone call to Theo, with its threatening message, and the final blowout at the Gazette. I sank in my seat and pictured the detective, smug as could be, slapping handcuffs on his new prime suspect, the little old lady with the kind, generous heart. I gave my head a firm shake to dismiss the image.
In the next instant, Gwen disappeared through the doorway of Pick Your Poison, the local wine and beer store.
I laughed. “I think Gwen might be way ahead of you on having that celebratory drink.”
“See? Creative minds think alike.” Izzie steered into a parking spot and got out. Walking to the rear of her vehicle, she popped the trunk and hefted the box filled with her purchases from Sammy’s shop. “Time to kick this operation into gear, big sister.” Her keys dangled from the fingers of an otherwise occupied hand that held on to her cargo. “Take these.”
“Love how you fail to say please.” I opened the door and waved her inside.
“Sorry.” She shoved the box onto the front counter and turned. A pink flush crept across her cheeks. “I am kind of pushy, aren’t I?”
“Like I said earlier, you’ve been barking out orders since you were four, but after many, many years, I’ve grown to accept you.” I winked.
“Funny you.” Izzie pulled out the pieces of wall art, then swiveled. “Now, where will these look best?”
We finished hanging the six pieces on the side walls and sat chugging bottles of spring water. Several sheets of paper were spread out in front of us, one for each event covering the next several months. I did a mental count of how long this would all take.
“Please tell me Willow is coming in soon to help with all this.” I waved an arm over the counter and the blank sheets of paper.
“Yep. In a couple of hours.” Izzie tapped my hand with her pen. “Don’t worry. When she gets here, you can take a break and go do whatever.”
Izzie tapped the sheet titled Light the Night—Launch Event. “We don’t have enough time to use the Paint Your Pet theme for our opening. Emails with images of pooches and felines are rolling in slowly. At least half of those who registered haven’t responded yet, which is understandable, after all that’s happened. Anyway, I’ll have to move pet night to next week, maybe Wednesday or Thursday.” She slid a flyer out of her folder. “I’ve been thinking up new ideas. I talked to the committee that’s raising money to renovate the lighthouse and ferry. They’re scheduled for the annual sailboat race, but they need more fundraising events to reach their cash goal. Lucky for us, they promised to advertise our painting event. In return, we donate some of our profits to the lighthouse project. Neat, huh?”
“The guests will paint the lighthouse. That’s genius. You never cease to amaze me.” I squeezed her arm. “Have you picked a date?”
She squirmed in her seat and swigged her water while holding up one finger. With a huge sigh, she nodded. “Day after tomorrow?”
My chin dropped. “This Friday? Are you kidding? You sure that’s enough time for people to sign up?”
Izzie’s enthusiasm could venture into the impossible on occasion. This might be one of those moments.
“Yes, and I’ve also scheduled the beach fireworks event for the following Monday.”
“Izzie.” I shook my head. Two events in the next few days seemed impossible.
“Don’t worry. I have a plan.” She batted her eyelids with that familiar look.
I stiffened and shook my head with a lot of force. “Oh, no.” I wagged my finger. “No, I won’t agree to whatever crazy scheme you’ve cooked up. Nuh, uh.”
“Oh, come on. It will be fun. I promise.” She punched her arm in the air. “One for the team?”
I groaned and mumbled as she explained her idea, which involved costumes and human billb
oards. “Let me get this straight. You want me to stand on a corner, in front of traffic and people, wearing a costume of a cartoon character, with a sandwich billboard shaped like an easel hanging from my shoulders, while I hand out flyers for our event? That’s your best idea to sell admission?” My forehead hit the counter with a thud.
“What happened to the daring and impulsive sister I know? I come up with this crazy idea, which, by the way, isn’t in my comfort zone, and you sit there all grumpy and critical. I’m trying to save my business the best way I can.”
As my lips touched the countertop, I mumbled incoherently.
“What was that?”
I rolled my head sideways. “I said I’m not critical. I’m …” I smacked the counter. “Do we really need to stand in public wearing costumes so people can laugh at us? Why not be ourselves and pass out flyers like normal people?”
Izzie chuckled and patted me on the back. “This isn’t high school. No one is going to make fun of you, Chloe. Costumes and billboards grab people’s attention. You stand out by being different. That’s what will work.”
“I did promise to help you launch your business.” I twisted my neck and opened my eyes to stare at her anxious face. “Fine.”
“You will? Really? Chloe, you’re the best.” She jumped out of her seat and ran to the storage room. When she returned, she held up two costumes. “See? I’ll be joining you and covering the other side of town.”
I scoffed. “Which one am I? Minnie or Mickey?”
The door creaked open and the chimes overhead tinkled.
I turned and smiled. “Hey, Gwen. How are you?” I scooted off my chair and hurried across the room to give her a hug.
Izzie draped the costumes over the counter and came around to Gwen’s other side. “It’s so good to have you back. Mom’s been asking about you every day since you disappeared. We all missed you.”
A Brush with Murder Page 8