A Brush with Murder

by Bailee Abbott

  Sammy stood and brushed off her bottom. “Trust me. I’m careful. My dad and my business are all I care about. I can’t afford to lose either one.”

  I considered, for a moment, what lengths I’d go to to help a loved one in trouble. Circling around the counter, I picked up the crystal swan and handed it to her. “Ring me up. It’s the least I can do to help out a good cause.” I grinned and pulled out my credit card.

  “You always were my favorite underclassman.” Though her lips trembled, she managed to wink.

  While she covered the swan in layers of bubble wrap, I thought about her troubles and how she had managed to keep them a secret. What if someone found out, though? Like Fiona? I didn’t know the woman well enough to say whether or not she’d resort to something as devious as blackmail. However, I’d been friends with Sammy since high school. I struggled to accept her as capable of murder.

  “Here you go.” She slid a gift bag with my purchase across the counter. “Your credit card. Don’t forget that.”

  I took the card and tucked it inside my wallet. “You know your secret is safe with me. I only hope you’ll do the wise thing before Infinity burns you.”

  “Thanks.” She fingered her necklace while her gaze drifted for a second. “Chloe, I know what Izzie meant by her comments. She suspects I might have killed Fiona. Maybe that detective thinks so too. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. You believe me, don’t you?” Her eyes pleaded as tears filled them again.

  I pressed fingertips against my chin. “My gut tells me you don’t have a murderous bone in you. However, what I think doesn’t matter. It’s Detective Barrett you’ll have to convince.” I turned to walk toward the door but paused and glanced over my shoulder. “Have a good afternoon, Sammy. Stay safe. I meant what I said earlier. If you want to get out from under Infinity’s thumb, I can help. I happen to know a great criminal defense lawyer who’s in town this week.”

  I stepped outside and glanced at my watch. Dinner was in twenty minutes, followed by my showtime debut as Minnie or Mickey. Izzie and I hadn’t clarified that detail. A fine mist of rain fell and dampened my cheeks, so I sheltered my head under my bag. Clutching the Quaint Décor purchase to my chest, I sprinted across the front lawns of several shops to reach Izzie’s. The windows were dark, with no sign of anyone inside. “Figures.”

  I remembered my grandmother’s advice that running got you just as wet as walking. By now, the mist had turned to a steadier rain. I gave in to the situation, lowered the bag to my side, and stuck out my tongue to catch the raindrops. I grinned at the childlike behavior, then stomped in a puddle of water, splashing my legs. Two more blocks and I landed on the front porch of our family home.

  The door swung open. “About time.” Izzie eyed me head to toe. “You’re soaked.”

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed. Are you going to move or do you expect me to climb over you?” I was too wet to care how I sounded.

  A smirky grin curled her lips. “Go around back to the mudroom. Mom would kill the both of us if I let you puddle up her wood floor.”

  I did a double eye roll. “This is like childhood all over again. Fine. Is dinner ready? I need to take a quick shower.” I held out a hand, palm facing skyward. Not a drop.

  “Make it a quick one because if you’re late to the table, Mom—”

  “I know, Izzie. She’ll be mad.” I puffed my cheeks and blew out air. Hopping off the porch, I ran to the rear of the house. Being home certainly had its perks, but downfalls as well.

  Max met me at the door, tail wagging. His tongue hung to one side of his mouth as he panted.

  “Hey, boy. You anxious for dinner, too?” I scratched his head, then kicked off my shoes and grabbed a towel hanging from the rack. I rubbed to dry my soppy wet hair and body. “We should sneak upstairs before your grandma Kate catches us like this. Okay?”

  Max hopped on his hind legs in a circle, then led the way to the back stairs.

  “Smart pooch. Nobody can claim otherwise.” I followed Max to climb what we as kids had called the secret getaway.

  Whenever either Izzie or I got in trouble, those stairs bought us some time before the lecture and punishment. As youth passed into the teen years, Izzie waited until late evening, then tiptoed down the back way and out the door to meet with friends, sometimes a boy. Mom and Dad figured out her scheme at some point because one day a bolt lock was installed on the door at the top of the stairs. Izzie searched and searched but could never find the key. Once we graduated, the bolt lock was gone and the stairs were free to use again. I admired their ingenuity. They didn’t need to lecture her or say one word. All they needed was a bolt lock. As for me, I was the geek in high school, without dates or a nightlife. Pathetic as it sounded, my evening companions had been textbooks and the classics.

  I snatched a bath towel from the linen closet and turned on the shower. While waiting for the water to warm, I sat on my bed. Max hopped up and rolled on his back for me to give him a belly rub.

  “You can be my best guy, okay?”

  Max sneezed then wagged his tail.

  “Agreed.” I slid off the bed. “Romantic relationships are overrated, Max. Remember that the next time you meet a cute little poodle who bats her eyes at you.” I stepped in the shower and dismissed my problems, at least for a few minutes.

  * * *

  “Would you hold still? I can’t button the back while you’re squirming like a five-year-old.” Izzie tugged at the costume with some extra force.

  “I can’t help it. The material is itchy and hot.” I clenched my fists and willed myself to remain calm.

  Truth be told, my restless act had more to do with the dinner conversation than the scratchy fabric. When Mom casually mentioned she had bumped into Ross at the general store and invited him to dinner some evening, I choked on my broccoli and needed a full glass of water to wash it down. My protest only resulted in her claim that friends shouldn’t have to eat out every night when there was a perfectly good home-cooked meal available.

  I thought we’d covered the whole breaking-up issue, but the category of ex-boyfriend hardly mattered to Mom when it came to feeding the needy. Or something to that effect. I was fuming too much to pay close attention to the conversation after the initial bomb was dropped.

  “There.” Izzie touched up the rouge on my cheeks, then grabbed my shoulders and turned me around. “You look so adorable! A cute little Minnie Mouse.” She grinned and clapped her hands. “This will be so much fun.”

  I stared in the vanity mirror, tipping my head side to side. “Maybe. Although I have a hunch people will be asking if I’m lost and why I’m not at Disney World.”

  “Not when they see this.” She placed the sandwich billboard over my head.

  I admired the artwork. Willow had created the design, and Izzie had taken it to a local print shop to finish up both boards and make copies of the flyer. I gestured with a thumbs-up. Details on the board included the name of the event and a message stating tickets were going fast.

  “Now, my turn.” Izzie slipped into the Mickey Mouse costume.

  “What’s your take on Mom’s invitation?” I fidgeted with Minnie’s bow. “She should’ve run the idea by me first, right?”

  She tugged on Mickey’s gloves then turned. “Does it matter? Not like she can take it back now. Button me, please.”

  “Yeah, she can’t. It would be too awkward and too rude. Oh well, maybe Ross will decide not to come.”

  Izzie snorted. “I doubt it. He’ll come with a smile, carrying flowers and maybe a box of chocolates.”

  I scoffed. “He can’t bribe me with presents.”

  “Not for you, dork. The flowers and candy would be for Mom. Remember, the way to strengthen a relationship is to make nice with the parents.” She poked my shoulder. “Face it. You’re on the losing team.”

  I pressed a gloved finger to her lips. “Shut it. I don’t want to hear any more from you.”

  “Just as well. It’s time to work that corner, Mi
nnie. Just don’t take any rides from strangers.” She threw back her head and laughed as she stepped out of the room.

  “You’re a hysterical guy, Mickey. Keep it up.” I adjusted my billboard, then followed her down the stairs and outside.

  To make the most of advertising our Disney parade of two, we took our trip to the center of town on foot. We answered whistles and howls and beeping horns with cute arm waves and curtsies. I had to admit, the Abbington ladies were good sports when it came to humiliation.

  I took my post on the corner of Sail Shore Drive and Whisper Cove Boulevard. At six thirty in the evening on a weekday, traffic in town was at its peak, both by car and on foot. I waved bye to Izzie as she walked farther down the block, toward the east end of Whisper Cove. Licking my lips, I glanced back and forth and finally at the sidewalk. The funny looks I got didn’t help calm my nerves. I felt about as silly as anyone would, dressed like Minnie Mouse, wearing a billboard.

  Clearing my throat, I held out the flyers. “Come visit Paint with a View for an evening of fun and painting. We have Light the Night on Friday. A portion of our sales will go toward the lighthouse project, and if you like fireworks, we’ll be painting those Monday evening.”

  “I’ll take one of those, miss.”

  I pivoted on my heel and the billboard rocked sideways, nearly knocking me off balance.

  A hand reached out to grab my arm and steady my wobbly steps.

  “Oh! Ross, it’s you.” Heat rushed to my face. “Why are you here?”

  He laughed. “I thought we covered that this morning.”

  “I mean, why are you here?” I pointed to the sidewalk and the space between our feet.

  He pointed behind me. “The diner. Stopping by to grab a meal before heading back to the hotel.”

  I studied him for a quiet moment. He’d changed into khakis and a polo shirt. Ross’s idea of dressing down never went too casual. I’d yet to see him wear a pair of jeans or a sweatshirt. I pressed my lips into a tight line and shoved a flyer into his open hand. “Not sure why you want one. You don’t paint.”

  “Always open to try new things.” He folded the paper neatly and tucked it in his pocket.

  “Since when?” My eyes narrowed. Taking vacation time was surprising enough. “I don’t believe you.” I wagged a Minnie Mouse finger in his face. “You’re up to something.”

  He widened his stance and crossed arms. “I’m making the best of an awkward situation. On top of my plans being ruined, I’m stuck here. No point in holing up in my hotel room, is there?”

  I gawked and batted my fake eyelashes. “Well, I’m sorry. This is awkward for me, too. You’re welcome to join the paint party Friday evening. And dinner, sometime before you leave town. Mom told me she invited you.” I could be civil about this breakup too.

  His shoulders relaxed. “Thank goodness. I was worried you’d blow a fuse when you found out. I told your mom I’d take a look at my schedule. I’ll get back to you about our date.”

  I bit my tongue to keep quiet. Our date? With one tiny remark, he had turned the situation into something it wasn’t. Well, I wouldn’t ask again. Mom would do that.

  A sly smile spread across his lips. “You look adorable as Minnie, by the way. I don’t suppose you’d let me take a selfie of us?”

  Before I had the chance to say one word, he whipped out his phone and snuggled close to me.

  “Say Disney!” He snapped the picture then scowled at the screen. “You didn’t smile. How about we try another?”

  When he raised his arm, I batted it away. “Stop. I have a job to do, and you’re interfering. Now, shoo.” I waved toward the diner. “Go grab your bite to eat.”

  He winked. “See you Friday.”

  “Looking forward to it.” I smirked, then turned to face the street and waved flyers in the air. “Come join us at Paint with a View. Enjoy an evening of painting and help save the lighthouse.”

  “We’ll take a couple. Sounds like fun.”

  Two ladies remained while they pored over the flyer. I stood quietly, waiting to answer any questions they might have, and used the time to people watch. I recognized a few passersby, but most were strangers, likely visitors to Whisper Cove. We had lots to offer—the lake for boating, swimming, and fishing, lots of places to shop, and for evening entertainment, a very unique theater. A floating stage situated on the water provided a venue for tribute bands to perform. Several concerts were scheduled each year, starting in May and wrapping up in early October, weather permitting. The only attraction not available at present was the ferry. Several times a day, drivers and their vehicles loaded onto the ferry that puttered to the other side of the lake. Until the overpass bridge was built, the ferry ride was the only shortcut across. Unfortunately, both the ferry and the lighthouse needed repairs.

  I shaded my eyes against the evening sunlight with one hand and studied a familiar profile exiting First Federal Savings and Loan. She was covered neck to knee in a beige, trench-like raincoat. A floppy hat covered her head and shaded her eyes, but the thick blonde curls and stocky figure gave Megan’s identity away.

  “Excuse me, but will you serve wine with the event? I heard one of those party businesses in Cleveland does the paint and sip deal.”

  I snapped to attention. The taller and older woman spoke. “Yes. I mean, no. You can bring your own beverage, but right now we aren’t serving wine. Sometime in the future, we might.” I stretched my neck to get a better look at Megan.

  She dabbed her eyes with a tissue and power-walked to the corner to sit on the bus stop bench. With a headshake, she pulled out her phone and slapped it to her ear.

  “Sounds great. Can we buy tickets from you?”

  “Hmm?” I volleyed my focus from Megan to the ladies in front of me, not exactly giving them the spirited pitch Izzie would’ve hoped for.

  “Tickets?” Her eyebrows shot up.

  “Oh! Sorry.” I pointed to the flyer. “Online is best.”

  “We can’t buy from you? That’s inconvenient.” Her eyebrows inched together, forming a scowl. “What if a person doesn’t have internet?”

  By now, Megan’s arm-tossing and head-shaking hinted that her phone conversation wasn’t going well. I stepped sideways to get a better look.

  “Let’s go, Sarah. We can use the Wi-Fi in that diner to sign up.” The younger one tugged at her companion’s arm.

  “How can you promote a business with that kind of attitude? Seriously, Mira, the younger generation needs to learn some manners.”

  I opened my mouth to apologize, but they’d disappeared into Millie’s Diner. “Great. You’re doing a fantastic job, Chloe.”

  “I’d say the costume and billboard are doing the job for you. No need to worry.”

  I jumped. The billboard swung and slapped against my chest. “Ouch.” I turned to face Detective Barrett.

  My mood soured even more. That dream where a person landed in a public place, maybe at school or work, dressed in pajamas, with curlers in her hair, and looked like a total loser came to mind.

  I waved. “Hi, Detective. What brings you to this corner this evening?”

  He pointed. “Making a stop at Spill the Beans for some coffee before heading home. Care to take a break and join me?”

  I gave him a cursory stare to decide whether he was serious. I shrugged with arms outstretched. “No animals, especially cartoon ones, allowed inside.”

  “I really wish you would.” He dropped the amused expression.

  I gripped the sides of the billboard, my armor made of card stock, and hugged it closer to my chest. “Oh, is this more like an official invitation from the Chautauqua authorities? If I’d known, I would have dressed for the occasion.” My snarky behavior didn’t match Minnie’s friendly-with-a-smile attitude, but I couldn’t help how he irked me. Maybe under different circumstances, when I wasn’t the subject of a murder investigation, my disposition would improve.

  He scratched the stubble on his chin. “No. It’s more lik
e me welcoming you back to Whisper Cove. A friendly gesture.”

  I yanked on the hair bow itching my head and told myself to play nice with the detective. My suspicious nature remained on high alert. He was investigating a murder that had happened under my watch. Suggesting I join him for a cup of coffee didn’t seem like a friendly gesture. This was a fishing expedition.

  “In that case, I’ll pass. I’m working.” I held up the flyers in one hand and stabbed the billboard with my other. “You’re welcome to attend. Tickets are forty dollars. Consider that my friendly gesture.”

  Detective Barrett made a sucking sound with his lips. “Miss Abbington, you are a challenge. I’ll give you that.”

  “Always have been. Ask anyone who knows me.” We locked gazes for an awkward moment, then I glanced away, waving the flyers over my head. “Come visit Paint with a View! Paint party fun and a chance to help out the campaign to save our lighthouse.”

  “Have a good evening, Chloe. I’m sure we’ll be talking soon.” He jogged across the street.

  I grunted with some effort at a goodbye. Whatever mood he’d put me in, mostly irritated and flustered, I wouldn’t let him get to me. Scanning the street, I witnessed the bustle of activity as shoppers and tourists filled the sidewalk, some carrying armloads of purchases, others chatting with friends. I stopped to fix my gaze on the corner bench. Megan stuck her phone in the pocket of her trench coat and tugged at the brim of her hat to shade her eyes. Looking side to side, she stepped away from the bench. In seconds, a man wearing a panama hat, a Hawaiian flowered shirt, and white linen pants approached her. His garb shouted misplaced tourist who belonged in some tropical vacation spot and not Whisper Cove. The two of them carried on a brief conversation before Megan marched away. The whole scene—the trench coat disguise, the phone conversation, and the mystery man—gave me pause. Sammy’s comment that Megan had financial problems came to mind. Could she be right? If true, Megan had reason to be angry with Fiona. Tearing apart her reputation that already teetered on the edge of failure could’ve been enough to push Izzie’s dear friend over the edge.