A Brush with Murder

by Bailee Abbott

  My one eye popped open then closed. “That can be arranged.”

  “Stop. He’s only being polite. Thank you, Ross. That’s kind of you,” Izzie said.

  I pushed off with my uninjured foot to set us in motion, then eyed Ross. His dejected look with those pouty lips made me laugh. “Okay. I’m sorry. Come sit.” I dug my heel in to stop swinging and patted the open space next to me.

  Without a second’s hesitation, he squeezed into the narrow opening and sat. “I figured I should stop by and see how you’re doing.” He raised his arm and placed it along the back of the swing.

  “Ross, please. You’ve called me at least a dozen times in the past three days. I think that qualifies for checking up on me.” I smiled. “Besides, I needed time alone with my family.” I nudged Izzie.

  “Your wounds are healing, I hope.”

  “My head’s fine. My ankle is just a sprain, and I get to take off the bandage this evening.”

  “Beautiful day.” He lifted his head and took a deep breath.

  “The best Whisper Cove and Chautauqua Lake have to offer.” I kept my gaze on the lake view. Fishermen sat in boats while ducks bobbed their heads in the water to catch fish for their breakfast.

  “I’m heading back to the city tomorrow,” he said.

  “Oh?” I shifted to face him and grinned. “Going through work withdrawal, are you?”

  “No. If I could stay, I would. I have a trial at the end of the week. Obviously, a Zoom conference won’t work.” He studied me in silence. “Why? Are you going to miss me?”

  I snapped my head around to view the lake again. “You wish.”

  Izzie reached across me and patted Ross’s leg. “Of course she’ll miss you. I will too. You plan on coming back here soon, I hope.”

  I jabbed her in the side.

  “Hey!” She scowled. “Not so rough.”

  “I hear Grayson Stone has left town.” Ross’s tone was somber.

  I had to admire how smooth he was to change the subject. “After Willow told merchants what he had planned to do, he couldn’t leave fast enough. I’ve never seen so many angry faces.” I chuckled.

  “Must be a hard thing to do. I feel sorry for her.” He took up where I left off and pushed the swing in motion.

  “I always knew he was trouble. When I think of how he used his dirty tricks to convince poor Megan she had no choice but to sell her business to him, I see red,” Izzie added.

  “I don’t understand. What could he have possibly found? Megan isn’t a criminal and hasn’t done anything to warrant blackmail.”

  Izzie chewed on her fingernail and winced.

  “Izzie, what are you keeping from me?”

  “I can’t tell you. I promised.” She wrapped her fingers around my hand. “But it’s nothing that serious, only a little indiscretion from her college days. Grayson found out and threatened to tell the bank, unless she sold her business to him. You see, she hadn’t disclosed the information on her loan application, and you know how bank people don’t tolerate lying or covering up your past. Still, the incident was so minor and happened several years ago. The issue most likely wouldn’t have mattered in getting the loan, but you know Megan. She panicked and imagined the worst.”

  “Oh wow. That’s awful. What a slimeball.” I cringed to think I had found him attractive when we’d first met.

  “Yeah. I have to give her credit for resisting. Poor thing was so desperate to find another way out of her mess. Can you imagine? She even went to that weasel extortionist, Oscar Sealy, to pawn her jewelry.”

  Seeing that Hawaiian shirt and panama hat disguise, I hadn’t recognized him at the time. His attire usually consisted of sweats in the winter and cut-off jeans in the summer. At the dinner table yesterday, I’d brought up the subject of Megan and her strange behavior outside the bank. After I described the man she’d spoken to, Mom laughed and Dad explained that Oscar had spent the last several months living in Maui. Despite his less-than-respectable role as the town pawn dealer for the past twenty years, he kept his business legal. “At least Megan got her jewelry back, and, with her parents as cosigners, the bank agreed to extend the loan on her business.”

  “Adding even more to this happy ending, Willow told me this morning that she’s decided to accept her parents’ invitation and go home for a few weeks. Nothing like mending family fences after a falling out. Did you know she hasn’t seen them in over two years? I can’t imagine being apart from Mom and Dad for more than a couple of weeks, especially if the last time we were together we’d argued. I told her if she still wants to keep it, the job at Paint with a View will be waiting for her when she gets back.” Izzie smiled. “I can’t afford to lose such a talent.”

  “It’s a shame how her pathetic excuse for a brother abused her with his manipulation.” I fumed, thinking about him. He deserved a life sentence for those actions alone.

  “Well, let Megan know that if she changes her mind and wants to press charges against Grayson for extortion and harassment, I’d love to represent her and maybe at the same time get a conviction. That guy needs to suffer for once,” Ross said with an edge to his voice.

  “Meanwhile, he can take his company’s plans to build that resort elsewhere.” Izzie slapped her thigh.

  Ross pushed off from the swing and stepped away. “I should go. I have lots of packing and other errands to run before I leave tomorrow.”

  I leaned on the arm of the swing to stand and braced myself for the hug and kiss goodbye. I refused to choke up with some pathetic emotional meltdown, but my heart did skip a beat or two. “Have a safe trip home, Ross.”

  “Aw, see? You will miss me. I can tell.” He smiled and tweaked my nose. “Don’t worry. I plan to come back in August for the town fair.”

  “That’s only a month from now.” I scowled. “I won’t have time to miss you.”

  “Only takes a couple of hours to pine away for me.” He winked, then jogged across the lawn. “Bye, Izzie. Take good care of my girlfriend.”

  “I’m not your girlfriend,” I hollered back, but a grin worked its way to the surface.

  “Did you see?” Izzie placed the paper in her lap. “Front page news.”

  Since Theo’s arrest, her cousin-in-law had taken over the Gazette. We’d heard they never got along. Probably their squabble had to do with Stephen’s murder. “I love the part about Fiona’s story. She was pretty darn clever the way she hid her reasons for coming to Whisper Cove.”

  “Yep. Listen to this. ‘Fiona Gimble’s husband, Terrance Ford, was the chief investigator in the case of Stephen Lawrence’s murder. When asked, men he worked with stated Ford never gave up on his theory that Theo had committed the crime, but he could never prove it. A call to Fiona’s sister informed our sources that, after the death of her husband, the grieving widow was determined to solve the case, which brought her to Whisper Cove.’” Izzie folded the paper and set it aside. “Such a tragedy she died.”

  “Here we thought she was such a horrible person.” Despite the spiteful things she wrote about our town and her abrasive behavior, she’d come to Whisper Cove to find justice.

  “That’s all in the past now.” Izzie checked her watch. “We should get inside. Mom will be furious if we’re late for breakfast.”

  I limped alongside her. “Quinoa muffins, quinoa oatmeal, quinoa shakes. What shall it be today?”

  “Quinoa keeps the digestive system regular.” Izzie held up one finger.

  “Gives you energy to last the morning.” I held up another finger until I broke down laughing. We smacked palms and entered the house. Life was good, and I was grateful.

  * * *

  “Open it.” Izzie clapped her hands and wiggled. The grin widened while her eyes sparkled.

  I held the tiny box in my palm and puzzled over what could possibly make her so excited.

  “Oh, come on. I’m dying over here.” With an exasperated sigh, she snatched the box out of my hand and opened the lid. “See?” She held up a ca
rd.

  I took the card and studied the engraving. “‘Izzie and Chloe Abbington. Co-owners of Paint with a View. The paint party experience you’ll enjoy.’” I glanced up. “Looks nice, but I haven’t—”

  “I know, but I thought if you saw this and …” She swallowed, then chewed on her fingernail. “I shouldn’t have, right? I’m not trying to pressure you. Honestly, I’m not.” She closed the box and set it aside.

  I held the card up and tipped it side to side. “Not bad. Although, when you reorder, I think the lettering should be in neon pink. A color that will make the message pop.” I pressed my lips together in an attempt to keep a serious face.

  “You mean … you decided? I—oh my gosh. Chloe, this is fantastic.” She grabbed my shoulders and shoved my head against her chest in a tight hug. “You are the best sister ever.”

  “I can’t breathe, Izzie.” My words came out muffled as I tried pushing away.

  “Oooh, sorry.” She let go and smoothed my mussed hair. “Thank you. This will be great, you know? I’ll have the lawyer draw up the paperwork, and we’ll make it official. Did I say thank you?” Her chest heaved and a quivering breath escaped.

  “Don’t thank me yet. I could be a pain in the rear and you’ll regret your offer before the week is over.” I gave her shoulder a gentle nudge and winked.

  “Not a chance. Okay, we should scoot. Without Willow’s help, we need the extra time to set up for the event. Beach Fireworks will be a hit. I can feel it.” She laughed and linked her arm through mine.

  We took her jeep and sped down Sail Shore Drive toward Artisan Alley. I stuck my arm through the open window. The cool evening breeze tickled my fingers. This was real, and, for the first time in a while, I felt I had a purpose. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be a world-famous artist showcasing my work in some posh New York or Paris gallery, but the shop was something even more special, and, because of Izzie, part of it would belong to me.

  I turned to smile at her. “You’re a wonderful sister too.”

  Izzie laughed and turned up the stereo volume. “Now, this is what I’m talking about.”

  As we passed through the intersection, I spotted Gwen walking arm in arm with a man. When she had come into the shop with him yesterday, nobody was more surprised than I. Turned out the boyfriend she’d been bragging about wasn’t make-believe. “It’s nice to see she found Winston. Seems like he makes her happy.” I pointed.

  “After so many years of being alone, she deserves to have some fun.” Izzie steered into a parking spot.

  “I’m just relieved she didn’t have anything to do with Fiona’s murder.” I exited the car and walked alongside Izzie to the shop. Blue and red balloons attached to the porch roof waved to and fro. A banner sign with the words “Congratulations, Partner” painted with glitter hung above the door. I clutched my throat and eyed the scene with surprise. “What the …?”

  “I’m the optimist, remember?” Izzie leaned against me. “Sorry the balloons aren’t purple. I know that’s your favorite color, but the local gift shop only had red and blue. They overstocked and had a great sale, though.”

  I kept myself from crying or falling apart with some other sappy display of emotion. “They’re perfect, but please don’t tell me there’s a crowd of people on the other side of that door ready to pop out and yell surprise.”

  “Nope. Just a few friends. Come on.” She dragged me up the walk and inside before I could escape.

  I gawked at the dozen or so people wearing party hats and grins who were spread across the room decorated with even more balloons and signs. “You guys are unbelievable. Thank you.” I managed to get the words out but looked away for a second to hide my teary eyes. “Well, heck.” I sniffed, then lifted my chin. “Is there wine to go along with this party?”

  “You bet!” Megan raised a bottle then popped the cork. “Champagne is even better.”

  “Okay, people.” Izzie clapped her hands. “We have thirty minutes to celebrate before I boot you all out. Unless you paid to paint this evening.”

  “Always the bossy one.” I bounced my hip off of hers.

  “You will be too, now that we’re partners.” She held up her glass. “Cheers.”

  I sipped my champagne and circulated through the room to talk with everyone. My steps froze as I came face to face with Hunter. “You’re here.”

  “Invited guest.” He smiled and raised his plastic cup. “Though I’ve got to say, I feel like this is me back in high school when I crashed the A-listers’ party. Weird, right?”

  I chuckled and shook my head. “You are way beyond high school, and I see no signs of the dork Izzie described.”

  “That’s good, I guess.” He shuffled his feet while glancing at the floor.

  Heat rose in my cheeks and I hurried to take the conversation elsewhere. “I bet you’re happy the case is solved.”

  “Absolutely. Especially for her.” He pointed at Megan. “I admit there were moments I thought she was the one. Theo confessed she staged the clues—wrapper and soda bottle behind the shop and the photo of her being at Bob’s right before the murder.”

  “Well, Megan’s fight with Fiona didn’t help matters. I don’t suppose Theo had anything to do with the fire or the break-in at our shop?”

  “Nope. Infinity is solely to blame. Oh, and Sammy is coming home. She contacted the sheriff’s office and asked if we would please call off the bloodhounds tailing her. I had to laugh. She’s got a sharp eye.” He rubbed his finger along the cup, then took the last sip.

  “I know. She called me too. She’s relieved the owner of Infinity will be facing jail time.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Did she tell you who she believed killed Fiona?”

  “She was ashamed to admit she’d snooped on Megan and found a receipt in the trash bin behind her shop. It was for the purchase of a knife and dated the day before Fiona’s murder. Adding that to Megan’s financial problems and the argument she had with Fiona, Sammy was sure Megan was the killer. Turns out she’d bought a wax knife, which I’ve since learned is used for making candles. Hardly capable of stabbing someone in the neck.”

  “When Izzie and I had spoken to her, Sammy insisted Megan had a bigger motive than anyone to want Fiona dead.” I sighed. “I’m glad she was wrong.”

  “Well, I should be going.” He tossed the cup in the trash can.

  “So soon? There’s plenty of champagne and good conversation to last. Until Izzie shoves you out the door, that is.” I could blame the champagne for the warm glow inside me, but that would be wrong.

  “Duty calls.” He tapped his watch. “I have a lead on another case to check out. Congrats, Chloe. I’m sure you and Izzie will do great.”

  “Thanks.” I tilted my head. “Same goes to you. You solved the case and did so without rubbing too many suspects the wrong way.”

  “Including you?” His eyes brightened and a slow smile stretched across his face.

  “Detective Hunter, it takes more than being accused of murder to rattle me.” I winked.

  “I’ll remember that.” With the tip of his hand, he saluted and turned to walk away. “In case there’s a next time.”

  I rolled my eyes and listened to his deep, throaty laugh as he walked through the doorway.

  “I think somebody likes you.” Izzie nudged my arm.

  “I think somebody’s got a crazy imagination.” I poked her back.

  “Well, either way, we don’t have time to discuss men. We have a paint event in an hour.” She hopped up on the stage and whistled. “Party’s over, folks. Toss your cups in the trash and shuffle on out the door.” Facing me once again, she added, “Let’s get this show started. Partner.”

  Author Biography

  Bailee Abbott is a retired teacher who now spends her days plotting murder and writing mysteries. She's a member of Sisters in Crime as well as of International Thriller Writers. Bailee lives with her husband and furry friend Max in the quiet suburbs of Green, Ohio. Bailee also
writes the Sierra Pines B&B mystery series under the name Kathryn Long.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the names, characters, organizations, places, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real or actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2021 by Kathryn Long

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Crooked Lane Books, an imprint of The Quick Brown Fox & Company LLC.

  Crooked Lane Books and its logo are trademarks of The Quick Brown Fox & Company LLC.

  Library of Congress Catalog-in-Publication data available upon request.

  ISBN (hardcover): 978-1-64385-774-9

  ISBN (ebook): 978-1-64385-775-6

  Cover illustration by Rob Fiore

  Printed in the United States.

  www.crookedlanebooks.com

  Crooked Lane Books

  34 West 27th St., 10th Floor

  New York, NY 10001

  First Edition: October 2021

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