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Murder at the Cabaret_A Pet Portraits Cozy Mystery

Page 13

by Sandi Scott


  “I wasn’t playing. I actually have a history—,” her voice was still low as she stared at Detective Schwarz who posed like a prize peacock.

  “The other suspects just didn’t add up,” preened Detective Schwartz.

  “Right, like Jenny Holt. As you know, she took over Madame Bray’s character in the show. She was just too small and delicate to be able to strangle the woman herself. An accomplice was out of the question. They cost money. They are also witnesses.”

  “Sure.” Detective Schwarz’s face gave her away. Jenny Holt hadn’t been considered. Why? Georgie didn’t know. It didn’t matter now.

  “Henry Dupre was also worried about his star just leaving the show, but a dramatic departure like murder could be good for business, as the crowd tonight proved.”

  “Henry Dupre?” Detective Schwarz squinted.

  “Except, the Master of Ceremonies was too visible. He was barely on stage with her, but he was always on stage with someone. There was no time for him to strangle her.”

  “Absolutely. No time. Speaking of time, Ms. Kaye, I’ve got a ton of paperwork to wrap up. Again, thank you for your time and assistance.” Detective Schwarz turned and walked back to her office, shutting the door behind her.

  “Well, here’s your hat. What’s your hurry?” Obby looked curiously at Georgie. “To say that detective was impolite would be an understatement. She should be thankful for your efforts.”

  Georgie didn’t want to appear upset. “These guys have a tough job. They probably don’t know how to handle a person who genuinely wants to help. It’s got to be a rare animal in these parts.”

  “But still—” (Obby walked Georgie out the door to the parking lot and his car.) “—some words of encouragement or even a cup of coffee would have been a nice gesture.”

  Georgie wanted to tell Obby about the times she helped Stan solve a few humdingers. He’d order Chinese food or Mexican food, clear off a spot on his desk, put a napkin down like a tiny tablecloth, then they’d eat. Well, Georgie would eat while Stan tried to convince her to take him back. He would then segue into how he’d help her get her Private Investigator license and what a fantastic team they’d make, before sharing a decadent dessert—a wonderful tradition.

  “What are you smiling about?”

  “Nothing,” she lied. “I’m just happy I was able to help.”

  “Well, it is almost midnight. Are you hungry?”

  “I wouldn’t mind a late-night snack,” she said.

  “What do you want?”

  Georgie thought for a moment. “It’s a little late for all my usual haunts.”

  “Then, leave it to me.” Obby drove about twenty minutes in the direction of downtown. On a quiet city street, tucked in between a dry cleaner and an antique shop, was a twenty-four-hour diner with a bright pink sign that just read EAT.

  “It may not look like much—”

  “That’s fine with me,” Georgie quickly interjected and hustled out of the car.

  “—but this place has fantastic sweet rolls, or if you want something savory, their french fries are delicious.”

  "Let's get both," Georgie suggested.

  “You are my kind of woman, Georgie Kaye.”

  Had Stan said those exact same words Georgie would have giggled and replied with some sarcastic ribbing to keep him in check, but Stan didn’t—Obby did, just before he took her hand in his.

  Chapter 22

  “When do you plan on coming back?” Georgie asked Andrew as they pulled up to the airport terminal.

  “Probably not before the holidays,” Andrew sighed.

  “J.R., I expect you to keep him in line, and I’ll expect a visit from you, too, over the holidays.”

  “Absolutely, Georgie. Don’t solve any more mysteries until we get back. This was one of the best vacations ever!”

  Georgie squeezed Pablo into a tiny space between a limousine and a SUV. She hopped out and held the door for Andrew to climb out while J.R. pulled their bags from the trunk in the front of the car. “Here are some sandwiches, chips, cookies, a couple pickles, two slices of apple pie from Aunt Aleta, bottled water—”

  “Mama, we can’t take this through security.”

  “So, eat it before you get to security. I know you boys can do it. That way you can save your money and not waste it on the overpriced garbage in the food court.”

  “Yes, Mama. Okay, we will.”

  “Will you call me when your plane gets in?”

  “Of course.”

  “I hope you had a nice time. I think you should reconsider moving back home, but not into my house. I mean moving back here just to be closer to me and your Dad.”

  “Are you going to ask the other two to move back as well?”

  "No, baby. You are my favorite. Why would I want your brother and sister to move home?" she teased making Andrew laugh. "You promised to visit your sister. Make sure you get out there. That baby of hers isn't going to be cute and cuddly forever. Soon enough she'll be a teenager, and well, it's downhill from there until she moves out."

  “What would Catherine say if she heard you talking like that?”

  “She’d probably get mad at least until the baby is a teenager, then she’ll swallow that bitter pill all kids eventually have to swallow, that their mother was right all along.”

  “Are you going to see Dad?”

  “Probably.” Georgie rolled her eyes.

  “Tell him I’ll call him, too, once I’m back home.”

  “You better. I don’t want him to feel forgotten.”

  “How come you still care about his feelings so much?”

  “Because he’s your Dad, and because he’s a good man. Don’t you think?”

  “I do. I just didn’t think you did.”

  “Give Mama a kiss.” Georgie stood on tiptoes to give her son a peck on the cheek. She did the same to J.R. and waved as they collected their bags, swinging them over their shoulders and heading toward the sliding doors to the airport.

  “Goodbye boys!” she shouted, loudly getting everyone’s attention. “Goodbye! Don’t forget to call me! Call Mama! Don’t make me worry! Bye!”

  They shook their heads laughing as they walked inside. Andrew blew his Mama one more kiss before he disappeared.

  “You can’t park here, ma’am.” The traffic police at the airport were merciless.

  "I'm leaving, Officer," she answered politely. Within a few minutes, she was on the expressway leaving the congestion of O'Hare Airport. With one hand on the wheel and the other holding her phone, she dialed Aleta's number.

  “Are you awake?”

  “I am now,” Aleta groaned.

  “Get up. It’s past six a.m. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go for coffee.”

  “Okay. I’ll be ready.”

  After maneuvering through morning traffic to pick up Aleta, Georgie and her sister went to Earwax for giant oatmeal raisin cookies and coffee.

  “This hits the spot.” Aleta yawned.

  “Why are you so tired?”

  “I was up reading a book until late.”

  “What book?”

  “I don’t know. It was something on the sale table at the library. I think it’s by that horror writer. You know that one guy?”

  “Yeah. The one who writes all the scary stories?”

  “Yeah. Something about vampires and a house and I don’t know what else but I had to keep reading. Then, when I finally set it down, I was too scared to sleep. That’s what I get for trying something new.”

  Georgie laughed.

  “Speaking of trying something new, have you heard from Obby?”

  “You make it sound so seedy when you say it that way,” Georgie scolded.

  “Is there something seedy about Obby? I had no idea!”

  “No, there is nothing seedy about Obby.”

  “So, have you heard from him?”

  "Yes, he's called a couple times. We just went out last week. Our date got complicated with Taylor Bray's conf
ession and arrest. I'm sure he didn't expect for the evening to end at the police station. Boy, that sounds a lot more exciting than it really was."

  "You said he seemed to enjoy the spontaneity, the adventure. For a guy who has traveled all over the world to say his date with you was an adventure, that's pretty impressive, especially when you've kept all your clothes on."

  “Aleta, you are too much.”

  Just as they were laughing, the jingle bells over the door rang and a familiar face peeked in. “Speak of the devil.” Aleta smiled and waved him in.

  “Good morning, Aleta. Hi, Georgie.”

  “Hi, Obby. What a pleasant surprise,” Georgie tittered. “Would you care to sit down with us?”

  “I’d love to, but I can’t. There is work at the gallery that I’ve put off long enough. If I don’t get to it, the place will never open.”

  “Is there anything we could do?” Georgie offered.

  “Well, I would like some original artwork for my office. Perhaps we can talk about that sometime over dinner?”

  Georgie blushed. “That sounds very nice, but I’ll have to check my calendar.”

  “You will?” Aleta whispered. It got her a love tap from Georgie’s platform shoe underneath the table.

  “I’ve got the finished painting of Stanley and Stella to deliver today.” She looked up at Obby. “Stanley and Stella are two Chow Chow puppies. I was commissioned to paint their portraits and my client insisted I do it from live models. I think she imagined the dogs would sit and be proper models while I worked. As you can imagine, they were anything but proper models. I got maybe seven strokes down before Mrs. Friedman told me it might be best to do it from a picture. Thankfully, I was able to finish it up at my place.”

  "Well, I didn't mean you had to drop everything this second to join me for dinner," Obby stated. "Although, I'm hoping you'll have some time sooner rather than later. Is that so bad?"

  “No. Of course, that's not bad," Georgie replied. "If you can believe it, Mr. Calvin Bernard, the restaurant investor who was doing business with Taylor Bray, contacted me to do a painting of Tiny, his Maine Coon cat," she repeated to Obby.

  “You didn’t tell me!” Aleta tapped her sister’s hand. “That’s great news!”

  “Yeah. That reminds me, I’ll need your car to take the portrait of the Chow Chows to Mrs. Friedman’s house. It might get damaged in Pablo. I’d hate for Stanley and Stella to be disappointed.”

  “Pablo?” Obby asked.

  “My vintage Volkswagen. I named him Pablo,” she stated. “What did you name your car?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “I haven’t named my car yet, Georgie. You can help me come up with a name on our next date.”

  “Maybe,” she replied.

  “Aleta, has your sister always been so cautious with people but aggressive with solving mysteries? I’d think with most people it would be the other way around.”

  “My sister is never what people think.”

  "I believe that," Obby answered as he ordered himself an espresso to go.

  “I’ll think about it, Obby. I really did have a nice time the other night.” Georgie stood from the table.

  “Where are you going?” Aleta whispered.

  “Ladies’ room,” Georgie hissed back.

  “Take all the time you need, Georgie.” Obby took the small paper cup in his hands. “I’ll wait.”

  “Well, I might be in there for a while.” She used her thumb to point over her shoulder to the room marked ‘Ladies’.

  “I meant in regard to our date. I’ll wait. I’ll just check in with you periodically to make sure you don’t forget about me.”

  “She won’t,” Aleta chirped.

  "You ladies enjoy your day," Obby said as he walked out the door, setting off the jingle bells again.

  "Well, that was a surprise," Georgie said as she returned to her seat with Aleta.

  "Oh, it isn't over, yet." Aleta leaned back and folded her arms across her chest.

  “What are you talking about?” Georgie rolled her eyes. “I’m going to take my time. I am not going to be rushed into anything. I’m going to...what?”

  "It's not just Obby you've got to worry about." Aleta pointed behind her sister. "You might want to ease off on the perfume you are wearing." Georgie turned around and gasped.

  “Well, now, what are you ladies doing in my favorite coffee shop?” Stan asked.

  “Stalk much?” Georgie huffed.

  “Good morning, Stan.”

  "Good morning, Aleta. It's nice to see you woke up on the right side of the bed—unlike your twin here."

  “Did you know he was standing back there?” Georgie asked.

  Aleta shook her head “no” while her eyes said “yes.”

  “Thanks for helping. Just wait until you need something.”

  “I didn’t want to make any sudden movements. It was like watching two sharks circling a chum bucket.”

  “You are hilarious.”

  “No. Seriously, I didn’t want Obby to know he was standing back there. The next thing you know, he’ll slap Stan across the face with a white glove and a duel will ensue.”

  “Ensue?”

  “Sorry, I’d have to put my money on Stan winning.”

  “What am I winning?” Stan asked as he strolled up to the table. Politely, he asked another patron if he could use the empty chair at their table and was given the green light to take it.

  “Who asked you to join us?”

  “Would you like to join, us, Stan?”

  “Thank you, Aleta. Don’t mind if I do.” He sat dangerously close to Georgie. “Good morning, Sunshine,” he purred.

  “Good morning. If I’d have known you were going to be here, I would have gone to a different place,” Georgie snapped.

  “My, you are in a foul mood. It can’t all be me.”

  “Stan, she just dropped Andrew off at the airport.” Aleta patted Georgie’s hand. “She hasn’t shed any tears, but I think that might have something to do with it.”

  "I'm right here!" Georgie scowled at her sister. "You don't have to talk about me like I'm a six-year-old out of the room."

  “You know I don’t mean anything by it,” Aleta soothed.

  “Why didn’t you call me? I would have driven him to the airport. That way you could have stayed home.” Stan leaned into his ex-wife, gently nudging her with his shoulder.

  “I wanted to see him just a little bit longer.” She looked at Stan and felt a sting in her eyes. “Now I go back to waking up in the middle of the night worrying.”

  "And all this time I thought you were worried about me."

  “You? You are more than capable of taking care of yourself.”

  “Not only that, Ms. Kaye, but I’m more than ready to take care of you.”

  “Not in front of Aleta, Stan.” Georgie poked his ribs with her elbow. “She’s too young to hear that type of talk.”

  “Please.” Aleta rolled her eyes.

  “I mean it,” Stan protested. “You’re looking for love in all the wrong places.”

  “I’m not looking for love. Besides, I’ve got the kids and that is more than enough love for me. I’ve got so much that some of it is wrapped in tissue paper and stored in the attic.”

  “I don’t know about that, Georgie. You sure you can’t find a little room for a little more?” Stan slipped his arm around Georgie’s waist making her giggle and snap at him at the same time.”

  “You are too much. Aleta, I’m sorry you have to see this.”

  “Stan, did you hear anything through the grapevine about Taylor Bray’s arrest?” Aleta asked.

  “That Detective Schwarz is a little eccentric.”

  "Eccentric? She didn't even give Georgie any credit for helping with the case. Not even in private like in her office or a simple phone call. Nothing, just wrapped it up like she handled the whole thing. I don't think she set foot in the theater. Meanwhile, Georgie risked her life a few times to get in there."r />
  “Did you risk your life?” Stan asked Georgie smirking.

  “I risked my reputation, but I guess I did that when we got married, too.”

  “You just don’t stop, do you, Georgie?” Stan leaned in.

  “Well, I think it’s just plain rude,” Aleta continued. “I know Georgie is always sticking up for you guys on the force. She never says a bad word about any of you or anyone who carries a badge, but that Detective Schwarz lacks class.”

  "It's no big deal, Aleta," Georgie answered.

  “Do I tell you thanks when you help me with a case?”

  “I think you tell me to come home with you so we can play doctor. That’s what I think you tell me.”

  Aleta laughed, “That sounds about right.”

  “Whose side are you on, Aleta?” Stan asked.

  “My sister’s side. Always, my sister’s side.”

  “Well, forewarned is forearmed,” he continued to tease. “I’m sorry you didn’t get an ‘atta girl’ from that group. We know that precinct. They are a little uppity.”

  Georgie nodded. She didn’t care that she didn’t get any credit. She didn’t help out so she could see her name in the papers or be interviewed by the numbskulls on television. She knows she has a knack, so why not help where she could?

  “Some people just don’t appreciate a good thing. That’s all, Georgie,” Aleta added. “She just didn’t know what a good thing you are.”

  “Not until you’re gone. That’s for sure,” Stan said. He watched as Georgie’s cheeks blushed. He placed his hand over hers squeezing tightly. She couldn’t help it; she squeezed back.

  Letter from the Author

  THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR purchasing this early-release book made available exclusively to my readers group, Sandi’s Sleuths, before the book was made available on any other retailers.

  You are probably already subscribed to my group, but if you ended up here and are not subscribed, head over to my website and join us. That way you will be the first to hear about other exclusive opportunities like this one.

  www.SandiScottBooks.com.

  I love to stay in touch with readers and periodically give out free books, advanced copies, and other fun stuff.

  Email me at sandi@sandiscottbooks.com

 

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