A Brush with Murder

by Bailee Abbott

  “No. I’m good, and Izzie should be back soon. See you later.” I clicked on the next pet photo and lurched back in my seat. “Now this is the ugliest creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  Within an hour, I finished two more sketches, which meant we were caught up. Izzie would be pleased when I told her. Of course, more photos would be coming in. We had two days left before the event, and six of the guests who’d registered hadn’t responded yet. Glancing at the time, I snatched my phone off the counter. Izzie had been gone too long. More than two hours. I stabbed the button to speed dial her. After hearing a dozen rings and her voice mail message, I grabbed my jacket. Maybe it was because of Sammy’s disappearance, but right now I hit panic mode. People should call when they were late. I ran outside and down the steps, and straight into Izzie. “Oh! Hey, where’ve you been? I imagined all sorts of horrible things and was worried you might’ve been swallowed up in the lake or something.”

  She sniffed and swiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Well, I’m fine so you don’t have to worry.” A hiccup burbled out of her mouth. “Sorry.”

  “Izzie, what happened?” I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her back inside the shop. “Sit. Let me grab a bottle of water for you.”

  “The one you should worry about is Megan. Willow was right. She’s selling her shop. Can you believe it? I sure can’t. That place was her do-over, her dream, her chance to prove she’s responsible.” Izzie swigged half the bottle.

  “Yeah, I heard. Hunter stopped by and mentioned it.”

  She pointed the bottle and water sloshed out. “I know what he’s thinking, but he’s wrong. The sale has nothing to do with Fiona’s murder. Megan’s investor is pulling out because quarterly sales are too low. She has a car loan and a second loan to buy equipment for the shop, and—she can’t afford to make those payments on her own.” Izzie sobbed. “I feel so awful for her. I swear, if I had the money, I’d be her investor.”

  “But you can’t. All your money is in this shop.” I spoke softly and stroked her arm. “Maybe sales will pick up soon. The town fair is coming in August, which usually brings hundreds of visitors, and they spend lots of money.”

  Izzie shook her head. “It’s too late, Chloe. Her mom and dad offered to help, but they can’t do much. Deeding the building to her was their contribution. She’s moving out of her condo and back into her parents’ house. Can you imagine how humiliated she feels?”

  My brows lifted. “We live in our parents’ house.”

  “Yeah, but she left home and had her own place before coming back.”

  I kept my mouth shut about that one. “That is rough.” I chewed on a fingernail for a second. “There’s something I should tell you about Megan. Yesterday, when I had lunch at the Blue Whale, Megan was there. She … she was upset. I overheard her arguing with someone. Before I could find out what was wrong, she ran out of the place.”

  Izzie scowled. “Why didn’t you mention this earlier? Maybe her being upset has something to do with her selling the shop. Really, Chloe?”

  “Well, I’m telling you now.” I lifted my chin. “The reason I didn’t say anything is because I was afraid you’d go crazy and do something you’d regret later.”

  “Why would I do that?” She stood and anchored both fists on her hips. The creases in her forehead deepened.

  I hitched my breath then let go. “Because the person she argued with was Grayson Stone.”

  Her face reddened. “Why that—when I find him, I—”

  “I’m back! Sorry it took me so long. There was a huge line at the bank, and Bob’s messed up my order, so that took a while.” Willow let go of her breath. “Anyway, I’m here.”

  Izzie gave me a searing look, then quickly turned to smile at Willow. “Good. That means we can take care of what’s left to do and go home. I’m tired and need to raid the fridge before taking a long, hot bath.”

  Willow chewed on her lip and gave me a quick glance. “You look tired. Why don’t I finish up and you both head home?”

  “No, that wouldn’t be right.” Izzie shook her head.

  “I think Willow can handle it. I sketched all the pet photos, which means there’s not much left to do.” I nudged Izzie’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  “Are you sure? Okay. Lock the door after we leave and call when you get home. Until whoever set fire to Sammy’s place is caught, the alley might not be safe,” Izzie said.

  “I’m not worried. Now, go. Have something to eat and take that bath.” Willow shooed with an arm wave.

  The ride home was uncomfortably silent. I didn’t try to strike up a conversation. If I knew Izzie, she needed time to calm down and think rationally before asking me more about Megan and Grayson. Meanwhile, she’d talk small stuff, which was fine by me. I needed a breather, too.

  Max met us at the door, hopping like a pogo stick. I had to admit, a bath sounded nice. Right after raiding the fridge with Izzie. I followed as she dragged her feet down the hall and into the kitchen.

  “Looks like Mom and Dad took the boat for a sail.” Izzie held up a note. “They’re planning to meet up with friends for an art show and dinner.”

  “Such a hard life.” I pulled a casserole dish from the shelf and took a sniff.

  “Yes, we should be so lucky.” Izzie popped open a can of soda.

  I covered my chest with one hand. “We’re only the poor unfortunate offspring who scrounge for food and pinch our pennies while we toil at work.”

  Izzie grinned. “Don’t make me laugh. Please. I need to be sad.” She turned down her lips. “See? This is a sad face.”

  “We should do something to cheer up Megan. Maybe show her the positive things in her life, friends like us.” I picked a piece of chicken out of the casserole and dropped it into Max’s mouth.

  “I suggested a girl’s night. She wants to be alone.” Izzie shrugged.

  “Yeah, I get that. After breaking up with Ross, I sat in front of the television for several days and binged on romantic comedies.”

  “Movies with a happily ever after? Isn’t that counterproductive?” Izzie leaned against the counter with a tub of ice cream and a serving spoon.

  “I’m into self-torture, I guess.”

  “Whatever you say.” After a few bites, Izzie shoved the ice cream in the freezer and walked toward the doorway. “I think I need that bath more than food.”

  “Do you want leftover chicken piccata or takeout for dinner?”

  “Chinese from Lucky Star sounds perfect.”

  Before Izzie disappeared down the hall, we exchanged a thumbs-up. Without saying a word about it, I got her message. All conversation about Grayson could wait. Despite the unsettling events of the day—the nursing home fiasco, Megan’s curious and sad situation, and Detective Hunter’s irritating visit, I was strangely satisfied. I had a good life with plenty of family and friends who loved me, and a job. I couldn’t forget that. Whisper Cove would survive. Solve a murder, bring customers back to the shops, and reclaim the peaceful, happy atmosphere our town always had before all this nuttiness were all we needed to do.

  With a goblet of wine, I walked out to the screened porch and plopped down in a wicker chair. The wind had calmed, and the sun peeked from behind thin, wispy, feather-like clouds. Maybe I’d take a ten-minute snooze before ordering. I closed my eyes for a moment and relaxed.

  * * *

  “Chloe. Chloe! Wake up, will you?”

  A firm hand shook me so hard my teeth rattled. My eyes popped open and I straightened in the chair. “What?” I pulled my arm out of Izzie’s grasp and stood. “Is there a fire? Was another event canceled? Because if it’s none of those, you shouldn’t startle me like that.”

  “None of those. It’s worse. So much worse.” Izzie hiccupped and moaned at the same time.

  “Okay. Calm down. I’m awake and listening.” I set her in the chair next to mine.

  “Willow called a minute ago.” Izzie snatched my glass and gulped the rest of my wine.<
br />
  “Okay, so? Willow called and …” I rolled my hand.

  “Someone broke into the shop, Chloe. My shop.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Willow sat huddled in her chair, arms snug against her stomach, while Hunter hovered with a pad and pen. Behind them, a deputy bagged evidence, dusted for prints, and snapped pictures.

  I frowned. “He could at least sit down and stop the intimidation routine.”

  Izzie leaned my way. “I hear it’s an interrogation tactic. He hopes to get more answers that way.”

  “Answers? Two men wearing masks trashed the place and left their calling card with a very scary and personal threat. That’s pretty clear to me.” I threw up my arms and swiveled side to side. “I mean, look at this place.” Fortunately, nothing valuable had been destroyed or touched, including the painted canvases hung on the walls. Supplies were scattered across the room, and the front window was covered with messages scribbled in marker. I prayed they had used the washable kind. The faint odor of turpentine lingered in the air from Izzie’s attempt to clean a spilled bottle of green paint off the floor.

  Izzie bobbed her head and the messy bun on top fell off its perch. “I’m trying to distract my thoughts from the obvious, if you don’t mind. Concentrating on Willow and Hunter’s grilling is working.”

  “Maybe we should sit next to her. You know, for moral support?” I took a step toward them. My intentions were more out of curiosity.

  “I don’t think that’s a wise idea. Hunter won’t—Chloe!” Izzie spoke in a strained whisper.

  I scooted a chair next to Willow and sat.

  “I’m trying to get an incident report, Chloe.” Hunter’s brows inched together.

  “Yes, and I’m here to give Willow moral support. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Willow?” I patted her arm.

  “I, I guess?” She slumped even more in her chair.

  Hunter ignored me and refocused his attention on Willow. “You said the men wore masks. Can you describe them in any other way? Tall, short, heavy, thin, maybe walked with a limp?”

  “One was tall and heavy. The other maybe average height? I’m not sure. I was so scared. I only got a quick peek at them, then I hid behind the work table until they left.”

  He tapped his pen against his teeth before pointing it at her. “After they left, you found the note with the threat.”

  “Yes. That’s right.” She unwrapped her arms and laid them straight on her thighs. “I waited about five minutes, maybe more, to make sure they were really gone and not coming back. I was shocked at the mess and nearly missed seeing the note. It was taped to the projector screen.”

  Hunter flipped the page of his notepad. “‘Quit snooping and asking questions, or next time we’ll do more than trash the shop.’ They must be smarter than the average burglar.”

  I shivered and my stomach lurched. So much for my moral support. “Why’s that?”

  “Using cutout letters from newspaper ads takes forethought.” He tucked his notepad in a pocket. “I’m done here. If you think of anything else to add to your story, Willow, give me a call.”

  “Willow, why don’t we go in the back and relax?” Izzie coaxed her out the chair.

  After they disappeared, Hunter faced me. “I think we should talk.”

  “About?”

  “I have a hunch this could’ve been the work of Sammy’s partners.” His expression darkened.

  “I thought the same thing, which has me worried. The people at Infinity don’t make idle threats.” I recalled my employer in France. He’d let the situation go and accepted the damage to his business and reputation without causing more of a ruckus. If he’d tried to get revenge or even fight the situation, there was no telling what Infinity would’ve done to him. Fortunately, the Paris authorities didn’t take matters further to charge my employer with involvement in the stolen items.

  “You should be careful. I’ve told you not to interfere in police business. Now, you have another reason to stop. Let me handle the situation. It’s my job, Chloe. Not yours.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck. “That’s the puzzling part. I haven’t made any attempt to find Sammy or whoever set fire to her shop.”

  “For some reason, they think you have.” He touched my arm and drew closer. “I don’t want you to get hurt. You or Izzie or your family.” In a second, he cleared his throat and backed away. “It’s my job to protect people from harm, of course.”

  I covered my mouth for an instant to hide my smile. “Of course. I’ll remember to be careful. Promise.”

  “What? No three-fingered salute this time?”

  “Funny guy. No, really. I’ll try my best.” I shoved a lock of hair behind my ear. This conversation ventured into up close and personal once again. I didn’t know how to take it.

  “You do that. Try your best, I mean.” He tipped his hand, then beckoned to the deputy before heading outside.

  I lingered, watching as he walked across the lawn and to the alley road. Voices from the storage room caught my ear. I inched closer to the doorway to listen. Or maybe eavesdrop, though I wasn’t sure why I would.

  “I don’t understand. Either you did or you didn’t lock the door like I told you,” Izzie said.

  “I thought I did. After you left, I remember walking to the door and thinking I should watch you walk to your car because of all the scary things going on and a fire-obsessed nutzo on the loose. Maybe I got distracted and forgot.” Willow’s voice shook.

  “Always check, double check, in fact. I mean, you could’ve been …” Izzie hiccupped. “You know.”

  “Yeah, I’d rather not think about it.”

  I stepped into the room and pointed behind me. “He’s gone, so you can come out now.”

  Willow relaxed her shoulders. “That’s a relief. He’s so intimidating.”

  Izzie and I exchanged glances and shrugged.

  “I could tell you geek stories about Hunter from our high school days that would squash that I’m-a-big-bad-cop image like a bug.” Izzie winked and gave Willow’s arm a squeeze.

  “Thanks. That does make me feel better.” Willow stood on shaky legs. “I think I should go home.”

  “I think we all should,” I chimed in and led the way to the front door. The break-in and Hunter’s warning had left me unsettled—not only because of the threatening message our intruders had left and the fact that Izzie’s paint party business might take another hit. A part of me felt guilty for snooping. Like Hunter said, we should stay out of police business. The problem was, I never could stay out of anybody’s business, especially when the business involved someone I cared about. This time, too much was at stake.

  After seeing Willow to her car, Izzie and I rode home in silence, both confined to our own thoughts. As we passed through the intersection of Whisper Cove Boulevard and Sail Shore Drive, I spotted Gwen. She stood at the counter of Pick Your Poison with a bottle of wine. I smiled. At least somebody would go to bed happy this evening.

  * * *

  I took a long shower in the morning while brainstorming every excuse I could imagine to find the most believable one. After dressing in shorts and a blue sleeveless pin-striped blouse, I pulled my hair back with a matching hair tie. With a quick peek in the mirror and a nod of approval, I skipped down the stairs and into the kitchen.

  Izzie, Mom, and Dad sat at the table. I flew past them to the coffee maker and poured a cup. “I think I’ll swing by the hotel and see Ross.”

  “Oh?” Mom looked up from her plate.

  “You remember he’s coming this evening for dinner?” I spread cream cheese on a poppy seed bagel. “Anyway, I thought I’d stop by and give him the details.”

  Mom sprinkled cinnamon in her coffee and stirred. “Yes, of course I remember. Tell him we’re having steaks on the grill and—”

  “Please don’t say anything with the word quinoa in it,” I blurted out with a tormented edge to my voice.

  “I was going to say twice-baked potatoe
s, if that’s all right with you?” Mom’s brows pinched together.

  I munched on a bite of bagel and mumbled approval.

  “Hmm.” Izzie tapped the side of her mug and tilted her head.

  “Hmm what?” I scowled.

  “Seems you could talk about dinner over the phone rather than making a trip to the hotel.”

  “Your point?” As soon as the words flew out of my mouth, I winced. Talk about falling right into a classic Izzie trap.

  She wiggled a finger at me and winked. “Sounds like somebody is missing her ex-boyfriend.”

  “Oh for—” I pressed my lips together and pictured my cream cheese bagel flying straight at her face. “I’ll be at the shop after I run some errands.” I swallowed the last of my coffee. “Mom, if you need anything for dinner prep, give me a call and I’ll stop on the way home.”

  “Thanks, sweetie. Tell Ross we said hello.”

  “You’ll see him in a few hours.” I stared at the puzzled look on her face. “Sure. I’ll tell him.”

  To keep my story credible, I made a quick visit to see Ross, then drove back across town toward Artisan Alley. That, however, was only an excuse to cover up what I really planned to do this morning. Tossing and turning last night, I had realized that I wouldn’t stop sticking my nose where it didn’t belong. Not until I took my last breath. I shuddered. No matter how that last breath happened.

  I parked my vehicle in the usual spot and sprinted down Artisan Alley past Paint with a View. With any luck, Izzie wasn’t standing anywhere near the front window to see me. She would be upset if she knew about my plan to talk with Megan. In fact, she’d be furious and swear to never speak to me again. After Izzie’s meltdown yesterday, I couldn’t voice my opinion to her, especially since part of me wasn’t sure of Megan’s innocence. I had plenty of reasons to think that way. First, her huge shouting match with Fiona and the threat about leaving before someone did her serious harm. Second, the scratches on her wrists that could’ve been caused by a fight, and not with a prickle bush. Third, the bizarre Nancy Drew trench coat disguise when she left the bank, waving her arms like windmills as she talked on the phone. And fourth, selling her shop without a word to anyone, not even to Izzie. The timing had to be more than coincidence. As far as the quarrel with Grayson at the restaurant went, I needed to know more. Overall, even if I hated to admit it, Hunter was right to suspect Megan’s actions.