A Brush with Murder

by Bailee Abbott

  Thinking of fall reminded me of Izzie’s proposal. I had to make a decision soon, even though she hadn’t pressured me to hurry. If I became a partner in the store, that meant staying in Whisper Cove. Permanently. Maybe giving up on my dream to become a successful artist forever. On the other hand, I could start small from here. New York City wasn’t that far away. If I painted in my spare time and submitted the work to my contacts in the Big Apple, maybe at some point I’d snag that gallery showing I’d always dreamed of. Despite my impulsive nature, I used an Izzie move by making a list of pros and cons. So far, the pros were winning. “Paint with a View, owned by Izzie and Chloe Abbington. That does have a nice sound to it.” I grinned as I skipped down the stairs and into the kitchen.

  * * *

  “Would you stop squirming? I’ll stick you with this needle for sure.” Izzie held the strap of my sundress between her finger and thumb while she sewed. “If you weren’t so short, none of this altering would be needed.”

  “Quit griping. Are you almost finished? It’s nearly eight. I want to get to the bonfire before dark.”

  If Ross showed up, I didn’t want to be ambushed or cornered by him. I needed more time to think about my feelings. I thought I had figured out everything about our relationship when I left New York. Our priorities were too different. Now, since he’d arrived in town, I wasn’t sure.

  “There.” She snipped the thread with scissors and stood back. “You look great in yellow with your black hair. I’m jealous.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, right. You and your model figure and gorgeous long hair couldn’t possibly think so.”

  “You sell yourself short, Chloe. You’re smart and witty. You have the most beautiful green eyes and bright smile. A cute figure. Haven’t you heard the saying? Good things come in small packages.” She grinned and squeezed my hand. “Now, let’s get out of here. We’ve got a party to go to.”

  Grabbing my sweater off the bed, I ran to catch up with Izzie, who flew down the stairs. Just as we reached the foyer, Mom was in the open doorway greeting someone.

  “Well, this is a surprise.” I chuckled. “I thought you had other plans?”

  Willow wrinkled her nose and lifted upturned palms. “Plans change.”

  “A case of guy slime?” I asked.

  “Yep.” She gestured with a thumbs-down. “No great loss. Besides, like I said, a bonfire sounds fun.”

  Izzie tapped her watch. “We should go. I’m driving.”

  After a quick goodbye, the three of us walked to Izzie’s jeep. We parked along Whisper Lane, then made the rest of the journey on foot, following the trail to the other end of the lake. The bonfire, with its orange and yellow flames, brightened the dim evening light of dusk like a beacon, while the shadowy images of guests moved around it.

  I walked in step with Izzie while Willow trailed behind. “If she’s at the bonfire, are you going to speak with Megan?”

  This morning’s effort had come up empty since Izzie had found no one at Megan’s condo or her shop. Even a phone call to her parents’ home had gone straight to voice mail.

  “I think she’s avoiding me, but she can’t hide forever. This is Whisper Cove. There aren’t that many places to go without being seen.” Izzie sniffed. “I want to help her. I wish she understood that.”

  I wrapped an arm around her waist. “She’ll come around. Give her some time, if that’s what she needs.” I wished I had Izzie’s confidence that Megan was innocent. Call it my New York, big city, skeptical attitude. I needed more time in Whisper Cove to soften my edges.

  Within yards of Grayson’s condo, conversation and laughter echoed across the lawn. Splashes of color brightened the scene with red, green, and blue paper lanterns hung from wire that stretched from the condo to the lakeshore. For the seafood lovers, a table was filled with serving trays of baked clams, oysters, crab legs, and lobster, while another displayed barbecued ribs from Bob’s and grilled steaks, along with plenty of sides and beverages. Music piped into speakers played a tune by the Beach Boys.

  I sniffed the aromas and groaned. “Good thing I brought my appetite. Look at all that food.”

  “What’s the matter? Didn’t Mom’s beef stew appeal to you?” Izzie jabbed me in the side and snickered.

  I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t think that was beef, but we’ll save that debate for another time.”

  “Hey,” Willow shouted, then mumbled a quick goodbye as she ran off toward a couple of girls who jumped up and down. They hugged her, then the three of them linked arms and walked off toward the bonfire.

  “Guess she rebounded without a problem. The healing power of female bonds never fails.” I laughed.

  “Oooh. I see Megan by the seafood table. You want to tag along and be my wing woman?” Izzie gave me her signature pouty lips.

  “Won’t work this time, sister dear. I’m heading for the barbecue ribs and potato salad. This empty tummy cannot be ignored.” I rubbed my middle, then jogged off toward the table where Bob and Millie stood at opposite ends.

  Observing their expressions and lack of conversation, I figured the boat race feud was in full swing. Bob was good friends with Timmy, while Millie was a second cousin of Jake’s. I pressed my lips to hide the grin. I so missed small-town drama. I scooted toward Bob’s end first and cautiously piled my plate with ribs while keeping a sideways glance on Millie. She daggered me with a scowl. I quickly shifted toward the middle of the table and neutral ground. Plopping a heaping spoonful of potato salad next to my ribs, I then hurried away without dessert or a bottle of Fizzy Orange soda. No way would I get in the middle or take sides.

  Spotting an open seat next to Gwen, I skirted around a group of teenagers playing hacky sack and sat down in a lawn chair. “I hope you’re not saving this seat.”

  Gwen held up her plastic goblet of wine and took a sip. “Only for my date, but he won’t arrive until much later.”

  “Great. I mean because I don’t need to move, not the part about your date coming much later.” I chewed on a bite of rib and recalled Mom’s comment. “You never mentioned who you’re dating. Is he someone from Whisper Cove?”

  She emptied her goblet and refilled it. “Would you like a glass? I have an extra cup. And another bottle of wine, if needed.”

  I blinked. “That’s okay. I’m going back to the table for a Fizzy Orange, whenever it’s safe.”

  She wrinkled her brow in a puzzling way. “Why wouldn’t it be safe?”

  “Never mind. You were saying something about your date?” I wondered if she had something to hide. Maybe her guy was an ex-con or something.

  “You wouldn’t know him. He lives in Rochester. Anyway, enjoy your meal. I need to mingle and see if I can drum up some kite business. Nothing like a party to find potential customers, you know.” She walked across the lawn, or more like staggered.

  I stared at the empty bottle lying next to her chair. It wasn’t uncommon for people to drink too much when they were troubled or sad or lonely. I wondered if that was the case with Gwen now. I eyed her duffle bag with the other bottle and a few personal items. An envelope stuck out of the bag. It had been torn open. Biting my lip, I lifted my gaze and searched the crowd until I spotted Gwen. She was engaged in conversation with a couple standing by the lakeshore, several hundred feet away.

  I lowered my arm and pinched the edge of the envelope. Slipping it out of the bag, I read the return address. “Sinclair Point Nursing Home.” I gasped and quickly lifted it from the bag. With one more glance at Gwen, who worked her way across the lawn and stopped to talk with another guest, I slid the contents out of the envelope and read. My eyes widened and jaw dropped.

  “I see you went for the land lover’s choice.”

  I squealed and jumped in my seat. Shoving the letter back in Gwen’s bag, I looked up to find Hunter hovering above. “I can never resist Bob’s barbecue ribs.” In an effort to slow my racing heartbeat, I took a deep breath and another for good measure. “I’m surprised you came.”
/>   “Why wouldn’t I?” He chewed on the end of a toothpick.

  I studied him from head to toe. Dressed in a cotton shirt, unbuttoned at the top, a pair of khaki cargo shorts, and canvas deck shoes, he appeared ready and relaxed for the occasion. “I’m too used to seeing you in your professional gear. Like I said before, you always seem to be on the job.” I waved my arm. “This never happens.”

  A smile teased his lips. “Stick around long enough and you’ll find there’s more than one side to me. Besides, who says I’m not working the case right at this moment?” He winked.

  A bite of potato salad caught in my throat. I swallowed and wished I’d accepted Gwen’s offer of wine.

  “Here.” He handed me one of the bottles of Fizzy Orange he was carrying. “Seems like you need a drink.”

  “I’m fine.” I strained the words but took the bottle he offered and swigged half the contents.

  Hunter sat in Gwen’s chair and popped open his own Fizzy Orange. He took a sip and nodded. “I can see what the fuss is all about. Does Bob make this?”

  “Yep. Well, his dad came up with the recipe. Bob is keeping the family tradition going, I guess.” I set my plate on the ground. “Supposing you are on the job, here and now. Is there any news you can share?”

  “Well, I could.” He leaned back, lifting his chair’s front legs off the ground.

  I rolled my eyes. “Is this a game you enjoy playing with me?”

  The chair landed on all fours. “Not sure what you mean. You asked if I could, which I took to mean if I had the ability to share.”

  “Oh for—just tell me what you know.” I spoke through gritted teeth.

  “Now, that’s clear enough. A bit rude, maybe, but clear.” He took a few more swigs of his drink.

  I drummed my fingers on the chair arm and held my temper. If I wasn’t curious to learn what he had to say, I’d get up and walk away.

  “We caught the arsonist. His name is Milo Lewis. He was in the middle of another arson job up in Rochester. Once the RPD threw him in jail, he begged to make a deal with the information he had on Infinity. I have to admit we sure caught a break. In no time, he spilled all he had on the guy who hired him for the job. Lewis knew how Infinity played dirty. So, as added insurance, he had recorded the conversation with the contact from Infinity. Everything we need is on there—time, place, and what Infinity would pay. Enough proof to charge both of them for arson. Of course, I imagine Infinity has a strong team of lawyers on retainer, and their guy won’t serve much jail time, if any.” Hunter chewed on the toothpick again.

  Fireworks popped and whistled as they reached the sky, then the spirals of color spread and fell into the water.

  “Did they say anything about Sammy?” My heartbeat held for several seconds. Despite the foolish and rather hasty decisions she’d made and my wavering suspicion she could be Fiona’s killer, I didn’t wish her any harm. Especially harm from Infinity goons. Nobody deserved their kind of vengeance.

  “Only that she owed them money for breaking her contract. Since she wasn’t around to pay, they made sure she’d never do business with anyone again. As far as they’re concerned, the score is even.”

  I shuddered. “I warned her, but it was too late. She was in pretty deep by the time I learned about her partnership.”

  Of course she wouldn’t want anyone to know. That was why I had to wonder if Fiona had somehow found out and threatened to write about it, or maybe even blackmailed Sammy. I rubbed the goose bumps on my arms and stared in silence at Hunter, with his deeply furrowed brow and tense jaw. Was he drawing the same conclusions? One thing for sure, exposure and blackmail were strong enough motives to commit murder.

  “The team will keep searching until they find her. After they spotted her in Altoona, she gave them the slip. Turns out her cousin lives there. I looked up her driving record and got a close look at her photo and description. Short, black hair, five feet three inches, one hundred forty pounds.” He smiled. “Sammy’s neighbor was spot on. You can see why I assumed the woman was you.”

  I glared and exercised my jaw back and forth. Seriously? How could men be so dense? I wasn’t an ounce over one thirty. “Well, you know what they say when someone assumes.”

  He widened his eyes. “You’re right. I shouldn’t make assumptions. I go by facts and evidence. In this case, the facts prove the woman Sammy’s neighbor saw was almost an exact match to you, but I—”

  “You are so exasperating. And that’s not me assuming.” I picked up my plate and bottle, then sprang out of my seat. “For your information, I already knew. Nell Sampson told me herself when I spoke with her. She said I was too skinny to fit the description. So there. See you around, Detective.” I marched away without looking back. Fuming over something as trivial as assumptions about my appearance reeked of insecurity. I had zero respect for women who were shallow and worried about each wrinkle and every pound. Something more was at work here, but I didn’t have time to dwell on why I was feeling this way. Spotting Izzie and Megan sitting near the lake, I tossed my plate and bottle in a trash bin and, without breaking stride, headed toward them.

  Izzie snuggled close to Megan and wrapped her arm around her shoulders.

  I plopped down in the sand and nudged Izzie. “Is this one of those private moments between you two, or can I join?”

  Izzie patted my leg. “You’re welcome to stay. In fact, you should hear Megan’s story to give you some perspective.”

  Her gaze pierced through me and sent a message.

  “Sure. I’m listening.”

  Megan’s breath hitched. “The police received an anonymous tip in the mail. It’s a time-stamped photo of me picking up an order from Bob’s Barbecue close to nine the evening of Fiona’s murder, but that’s a coincidence, right? I mean, plenty of people were there at the same time.”

  “How could you be there at that time? You were …” I stopped as the notion hit me. The empty seat at the event before we’d finished. “You left the paint event early. Why?”

  “I got a call from the jewelry store in town that my dad’s birthday gift was ready to pick up. Mr. Finnigan agreed to stay open late for me if I promised to stop by Bob’s to grab his order since he’d missed dinner. Dad’s birthday was the next day, you see. My aunt Susan arranged a family gathering at her home in Buffalo to celebrate. My parents decided we should leave first thing in the morning. I had to pick up his gift the evening of your event, and that’s why I left early.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “Seems reasonable. What did Hunter say when you told him?” I asked.

  Izzie sighed. “He wanted proof. Her word wasn’t good enough. Such a tool.”

  “Izzie, stop. He’s a detective. He goes by evidence, not assumptions.” I made a mental eye roll. At least most of the time he did.

  “I had proof.” Megan straightened her shoulders, but her lips trembled. “I gave him the receipt from Finnigan’s, which had the date and time.”

  “Thank goodness, Hunter was satisfied. Megan heard he followed up by talking with Finnigan and Bob,” Izzie added.

  “That’s great. Isn’t it?” I frowned. “Of course, I’m so dense. You’re worried about your shop.”

  “Thanks. Truth is, I’m not in the mood for a party.” She stood on wobbly legs, then turned to stare into the crowd that circled the bonfire.

  I followed her gaze and spotted a group of four people off to the left of the circle. Grayson Stone was among them. Our gazes connected, but then his head turned a fraction. He didn’t smile, which was a surprise. He’d always been so friendly, so charming.

  A tiny gasp escaped Megan.

  “Are you okay, Megs?” Izzie touched her shoulder.

  Megan gave her head a hard shake. “My leg cramped for a second. Going up and down stairs a million times to move my stuff will do that, right?” She managed a tiny smile. “I think I’ll head home. I have lots left to pack before I move out of my condo.”

  “
Did you get her to tell you what the argument with Grayson was about?” I asked as Megan wove her way around guests to reach Artisan Alley.

  “Just some disagreement about him not paying for some merchandise.”

  “At least she’s consistent,” I mumbled under my breath.

  “What?” Izzie turned to stare at me.

  “Nothing.” I pulled her toward the nearest boat dock. “I have something to tell you.”

  I kept my voice lowered. No telling where Gwen might show up as she worked her way through the crowd, promoting her kites to anyone who had a pulse.

  We sat on the edge with our legs dangling and feet touching the water.

  “What’s so urgent and private that you had to bring us out here?” Izzie asked.

  “I found a letter in Gwen’s duffle bag.”

  Izzie gawked. “You went through her things?”

  “Never mind that. You want to know what it said, or not?” This wasn’t the time for lectures on respecting people’s property.

  “Fine.” She pointed her finger. “But only if it has something to do with the murder case, which I remember you said to leave alone.”

  “Old news. Anyway, the letter was from that nursing home where Gwen’s sister-in-law is staying. Or I should say, was staying.”

  Izzie’s eyes popped open as she slapped a hand over her mouth. “She died? How awful.”

  “No, she didn’t die.” I scowled. “She was moved to a state facility in Buffalo this week. Anyway, the letter was addressed to Gwen. It stated that her ex-husband, William Finch, was the one who signed the order of transfer. Also, it mentions insufficient funds as the reason for her moving out of Sinclair Point.” I clutched her wrist. “Izzie, here’s where it gets even more important. The letter stated that if Gwen had questions or concerns, the director was free to meet with her any time after six on Thursday, two weeks ago. You know what day that was? The day Fiona was murdered.”

  Izzie frowned. “I don’t know. Seems far-fetched. Why would someone from the nursing home send Gwen a letter about moving Tressa?”