A Brush with Murder

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A Brush with Murder Page 13

by Bailee Abbott


  “Thank you.” I sniffed and worked my mouth into a smile.

  “Just so you know, I called Hunter and scolded him for even suggesting you had anything to do with Sammy’s disappearance.” She slid her sunglasses down an inch and glanced at me. “You didn’t, did you?”

  “Oh, for—really, Izzie?” I set the mug on the floor and buried myself deeper in the blanket.

  “I’m sorry.” She stroked my arm. “I had to ask. You haven’t said a word since you woke up this morning, and last night was kind of a confusing ramble of he-said-you-said summary of your phone conversation.” Her eyes narrowed. “Hunter told me about his talk with Sammy’s neighbor. Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “I don’t know who Nell Simpson saw, but it wasn’t me, which is why I didn’t mention it. Look, you shouldn’t worry about Sammy or me. You have this evening’s event to think about.”

  Mom and Dad had already doled out more than enough sympathy and concern. I couldn’t handle Izzie’s too.

  “Which is exactly what you should be doing.” She smacked her thighs. “I’m keeping the shop closed until later this afternoon. Why don’t you come with me to Buffalo? Call it a sister bonding opportunity. What do you say?” She wiggled her brows.

  I fiddled with the fringe of the blanket and gave the sunrise another glimpse. “Rain check? I need some alone time to think. Maybe I’ll go for a walk along the lake.”

  “Whatever makes you happy makes me happy, big sister.” She rose from the chair and stretched, then twisted side to side. “Beautiful day for a walk. You enjoy, and I’ll see you when I get back.” She ruffled my hair. “Maybe comb out this tangled mess of bed hair, first? Don’t want to scare the neighbors.”

  “Ha. Little sis makes a joke.” Despite my downer mood, I grinned.

  Her pep talk was extra special since underneath that happy, confident demeanor was a nervous, terrified little girl who worried about all things, all the time. Izzie was trying her best for me. I could do the same for her.

  I threw off the blanket and pushed out of my seat. With an eye roll, I pulled on a fistful of hair. “In some parts of the world, this is a fashionable look.”

  “Where exactly?” She tickled her chin with her fingers. “I so want to go there. Do you think they’d style mine?”

  I poked her in the side. “I’ll make you a special appointment. Now, go fetch those paint colors, Miss Izzie. Daylight’s ticking away.”

  She kicked her heels and patted her rear as she hurried inside. “Giddy up!”

  I laughed. “Goofball.” I folded the blanket and tucked it under one arm. After a quick shower, I’d take the back stairs and sneak out before anyone noticed. I loved Mom and Dad and all their caring and concern, but I needed a break. I’d go for a walk in town, grab a bagel and coffee from For Sweet’s Sake, and then sit beside the lake to enjoy my breakfast.

  * * *

  Claire’s bagel shop sat in the center of town. The envy of most shop owners, this location reaped the rewards of continuous foot traffic and a cash register that was always full. No doubt, Claire had enough tucked away in her bank account and mutual funds to take an early retirement, but she loved her job and swore to keep the place running forever. Though the claim was an exaggeration, I had to love her spirit.

  I stood on the sidewalk, admiring the white and coral exterior. The windows dressed with scalloped canopies were a throwback to an era that favored natural shade over air-conditioning. The scents of dough baking and coffee brewing filled me as I sniffed the air, then hurried inside.

  “Hi, Claire.” I waved.

  The whirring drone of the dough mixer and the ding of the oven timer welcomed me, along with the baker’s wide grin.

  “Why Chloe Abbington, I heard the rumor you were back in town. Come on and show this girl some love.” Her brown eyes sparkled as she wiggled her fingers and scurried around the showcase. Her skin, the shade of chocolate, glistened with sweat from the kitchen heat. Her muscular arms hinted at days spent kneading dough and lifting heavy trays of bagels and donuts. She brought me in for a hug, then planted a kiss on my cheek.

  I managed to break loose. “Always great to see you. I would have dropped by sooner, but things got a little crazy right after I arrived.”

  The deep-throated laughter broke as her shoulders and chest quaked. “A little? More like a tidal wave hit the shores of Whisper Cove. How you holding up?”

  I teetered my head. “As well as anyone who finds a body with a knife sticking out of her neck.” My eyes widened. “I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

  “Speak your mind, I always say. Truth doesn’t waste folks’ time.” She tucked a stray lock of hair under her hairnet. “Not to shovel more dirt on anyone’s grave, but that woman had venom on her tongue whenever she opened her mouth to speak or scribbled a word in that column of hers. I still have the bite marks from the time she put a target on my shop.” Claire wiggled her shoulders. “Maybe it’s not respectful to speak this way about the dead, but respect goes both ways.”

  Thinking about truth and Fiona’s death steered my attention to Sammy again. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen Sammy lately?”

  Claire puckered her lips. “Can’t say I have. Which is odd, come to think of it.”

  My brow inched higher. “How so?”

  “Sammy stops by every Thursday morning for coffee and her usual asiago cheese bagel. We chat for a while about our respective high school days on the track team. We might’ve graduated a couple of decades apart, but things haven’t changed much, only the coach and the uniform. Lots of great laughs and stories.”

  The timer dinged again.

  “Hold on.” She skirted around the counter and to the kitchen. After a minute, she reappeared, carrying a huge tray with mitted hands. “Why you asking?”

  “Oh my. Those smell so delicious. I’ll take one of those blueberry bagels and a large coffee with cream to go.” Not wanting to start rumors, I made a quick decision to explain as little as possible. “I was supposed to meet with her yesterday, but she never showed. Guess maybe she had something more important to do.”

  Claire set a bagged bagel and the coffee on the counter. “She’s a sweet lady. Always comes in with a smile and some kind words to say. I’m sure she’ll give you a call when she can.”

  I handed her money for my breakfast purchase. I thought of Sammy that way too. All the more reason to worry about where she’d gone and why. Even more puzzling, who was the woman with her that looked like my twin? Was the neighbor a reliable witness? Maybe she wore glasses and without them couldn’t see clearly more than five feet in front of her.

  After exchanging goodbyes, I retraced my steps to head for the lake. Sammy might have skipped her weekly cheese bagel because she was distracted by thoughts of who had killed Fiona or because we’d arranged to meet that morning. I gave myself a mental scolding for overthinking the situation. This morning was for relaxing and getting my chi back, as my yoga instructor would say, then maybe I could think rationally about Sammy.

  I chose the perfect spot underneath a shady oak and sat cross-legged, facing the lake. As if the rustle of my paper bag was a cue a feast was coming, a goose waddled closer. I picked off a few pieces of bagel and scattered them across the lawn. Three more birds scurried on webbed feet, pecking at the ground to gobble up the treats. I laughed, then waved an arm to shoo them away.

  In less than twelve hours, Izzie, Willow, and I would be greeting guests for the shop’s grand opening. We were beyond prepared. The list of supplies we needed had been counted and checked off numerous times. We had divided the program tasks among us and rehearsed from step one to the last. The only way this evening could go wrong would be if a storm knocked out the power or some other act of nature plagued us. We were ready, and I knew I shouldn’t be nervous.

  I stood and walked to the trash canister and tossed in my bag and empty cup. Izzie would argue the cause of my behavior was Ross. She was wrong. The one who worried me was Detective Ba
rrett. I had my doubts he would be attending the event for the entertainment of painting a lighthouse. If I had money to gamble, which I didn’t, I’d swear his agenda for this evening was to check out the crowd for plausible suspects.

  I picked up the strap of my bag and marched along the lake and away from Artisan Alley. “He’s such a tool. Nothing like making our customers feel unwelcome. They’ll probably never come to another paint event. Such a pain in the— Oh!” I clutched my throat and nearly collided with a large dog who, by now, had planted his front paws on my chest while licking my face.

  “Sorry! Major is just excited to meet someone on our walk. He really loves the ladies.”

  I managed to unlock Major’s paws from my chest and petted the top of his head. Glancing ahead, I spotted someone familiar jogging in our direction. Blond curly hair and six plus feet of handsome. This was the Greek god I’d run into a few days ago near Sammy’s shop. At once, I straightened and used both hands to smooth the loose strands of my wind-blown hair. I hadn’t bothered with anything but shampoo and soap when I had gotten ready this morning. Not even a dab of makeup. Well, the fresh and natural look was in style. Yeah, I could go with that.

  “Thanks for not freaking out. Major and I appreciate it.” He smiled while clipping a leash on the dog’s collar. “You a dog lover?”

  “Little ones.” I gestured by holding my hand a few inches off the ground, then rushed to add, “Big ones are nice too.”

  His forehead creased. “Have we met? You look so familiar.” He whistled. “Boy, did that ever sound like a pickup line. Sorry.”

  Heat warmed my face with embarrassment. “Now that you mention it, I think we might have. Maybe along the alley? I was shopping there with my sister, Izzie, the other day.” I twisted the hem of my shirt. Being coy was definitely not one of my talents.

  He snapped his fingers. “The Abbington sisters! You’re Chloe.”

  “Yep. That’s me. Are you staying in Whisper Cove?”

  “For the summer.” He pointed behind him. “A friend offered accommodations at his condo while I finish a sculpting project. How about you?” He stroked the top of Major’s head.

  “I live here. At least for the time being. I’m readjusting to small-town life after two years in New York.”

  “Well, seems we have something in common. I have a place in New York and spend as much time as I can there. Say, how about we do dinner one night? Or go out for drinks? We can talk about big city life. People say I’m great company, and you can count on me to make you laugh. I know lots of jokes. Tons.” He clasped his hands together in front of him.

  I laughed. “Are you sure Major won’t be jealous? Leaving him alone while you take someone out for dinner or a drink is a bold move.”

  “As long as I bring him the leftovers, he’s happy. What do you say? Tomorrow evening?”

  I shook my head. “Maybe after I get settled. Right now, I have lots to do. I’m helping Izzie launch her new business.” I struggled to believe he was a lurker or a creep, as Izzie and Megan thought of him, but living in New York had branded me with a cautious, wait-and-learn attitude.

  He let out a sigh and laid one hand over his chest. “You break my heart, Chloe Abbington. I’ll tell you what. I’m planning a beach cookout next week for the folks of Whisper Cove. My way of getting to know the locals. I want you to come. Bring your sister. Bring your whole family! Please say you’ll be there.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “You will?”

  “Yeah.” I pointed behind me. “I should go. We’re having our opening event this evening at Paint with a View. It’s a joint venture with the committee to raise money for the lighthouse. We were planning to have Paint Your Pet as our launch, but things got complicated and we had to reschedule it for next week and—” I shook my head. “Listen to me. I’m sure you have no interest in the details of what we paint.”

  “Not at all. In fact, the pet painting sounds like fun.” He rubbed Major’s fur. “Count me in.”

  I gave a thumbs-up. “Sure. Okay. See you around, Grayson.”

  “Ha. You do remember.” He grinned.

  I waved as I walked back toward the shop. With a bounce in my step, I hummed a tune. Whether I was interested or not in Grayson Stone, his flirting made me smile and renewed my confidence I was someone worth a man’s attention. Ross could take a few lessons from the Greek god.

  Passing by Quaint Décor, I slowed to take a quick glance, maybe hoping to see lights and Sammy’s familiar profile. My shoulders dropped. The darkened windows were depressing and pricked my balloon of optimism. The longer she was missing, the more worried I’d become. Detective Barrett and I had talked about what might have contributed to her disappearance—her claim she knew Fiona’s killer and her business dealings with the black market. Right now, one other reason popped into my head, which brought me right back to where I started. What if Sammy had killed Fiona and was worried the authorities were close to arresting her? Izzie’s comments probably hadn’t helped put her at ease. Nor had all the accusing looks from people in town. That kind of pressure could’ve pushed her panic button, so she decided running was her best chance.

  I jumped at the blare of a car horn and snapped my head around. Without realizing it, I’d reached the intersection of Whisper Cove Boulevard and Sail Shore Drive and nearly stepped into oncoming traffic. I shaded my eyes from the sun and watched the light turn from red to green. Only one thing stood in Sammy’s way. She’d never abandon her dad. Nothing, not even the threat of being arrested for murder would drive her away when she knew he needed her help.

  I walked along the front sidewalk and entered the house. Sammy’s dad was the key, the catalyst that dictated her every move. “That’s it!” I snapped my fingers and ran straight into Izzie. “Lord. You scared the heck out of me.” I skipped backward.

  Izzie took a bite out of her apple. “Aren’t you the jumpy one? I thought you were having a relaxing walk on the beach to calm your nerves. Doesn’t seem to be working.”

  “Sorry. I can’t seem to turn off my brain. Not when it comes to Sammy.” I tipped my head. “You’re back already?”

  “Yeah. After picking up the order—that store is fantastic, by the way—I decided to skip brunch and head home.” She stuck out her bottom lip. “Since my big sis deserted me.”

  I sucked on my tongue and jabbed her with my finger. “The restaurant was closed, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” She winked. “For remodeling.” She sat on the foyer bench and patted the empty spot next to her. “What’s your brain telling you about Sammy?”

  I slid next to her. “I can’t think of a possible reason why she’d leave and abandon her dad when he needs her.”

  “Unless she didn’t go willingly. If she knows who killed Fiona, the killer might know she knows. You know?”

  I blinked. “Somehow, I understood that, but I’m trying not to think in those terms. Let’s put that scary scenario aside.”

  “Okay, but then what? She left because …” Izzie counted on her fingers. “One, she’s scared the killer will find out she planned to tell the authorities. Two, she’s running from the black-market goons who’ve threatened to bury her six feet in the ground. Or three, she’s the killer and is running to escape arrest.”

  “I’ve hit a snag with that last one. Her dad is in jail and needs her help. She can’t do anything if she’s behind bars.”

  “Exactly!” Izzie bounced off the seat. “Sammy ran away to keep from being arrested because she doesn’t have to be nearby to help dear old jailbird dad. Assistance is only a phone call away, and who needs in-person visits when there’s Zoom? Or Skype. Or Google Hangouts. Or … you get what I mean.”

  I screwed up my face. “You’re so determined to be right.”

  “About Sammy as the killer?” She lifted her chin. “When you’re right, you’re right.”

  “Geesh.” I plucked at my shirt and sniffed underneath. I smelled of dog slobber and sweat. “Okay,
I’m taking another shower before lunch. You can share more of your infinite wisdom at the table.” I climbed the stairs.

  “Sarcasm and jealousy are not attractive.” Izzie called after me.

  “Got it.” I waved an arm and retreated to my room.

  * * *

  “This place is fantastic. I wish I’d thought of the idea first.” Joanna Bixby, our next-door neighbor and one of Mom’s best friends, winked. “You know I’m kidding. I’ll stick to my little knitting projects.”

  “Are you serious?” I asked. “You’re the Etsy queen of craft sales. Why, Izzie told me she overheard some customers at the art supply store in Buffalo talking about you. You, Joanna, are a national celebrity.”

  “You’re embarrassing me.” Joanna blushed and patted her perfectly coifed hair. “I’m sure that’s an exaggeration.” As if giving the notion some thought, she chewed on her fingernail. “Did they really say my name?”

  I raised three fingers on my right hand. “Scout’s honor.”

  Paint with a View was bustling with people and chatter. Izzie played the perfect host while Willow hurried from station to station repositioning materials and giving the big screen a final check to make sure it worked. Nothing was left to chance. We were ready to go. While Izzie and I teamed up as instructors, Willow’s job this evening was to circulate among guests, offer help with their projects, and refill paint palettes.

  Charlie Wales, leader of the committee to save the lighthouse, circulated to shake hands with guests. Animated and glowing, she laughed and rattled on about Whisper Cove’s history and the importance of preserving the lighthouse. At seventy and, despite her tiny size, she still ran on full steam, keeping up with most anyone half her age.

  I got the nod from Izzie and weaved a path toward the stage. I tossed my emotions from sad to relieved then over again as I hadn’t spotted Ross. He had either bailed or found something better to do, like taking another swim in the lake. I covered my smile with one hand at the thought. Even the local detective was nowhere in sight.

 

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