“Thank you,” she said again.
Amy introduced everyone in the group and then the newcomer responded with, "My name is Kendall Dakwa. I own the building. I would say that I run the studio too, but with all the artistic temperaments that use the space, it doesn't often feel like I'm in charge."
Heather chuckled. Sometimes she felt the same at her donut shop.
“Do a lot of professionals use the space?” Amy asked.
“There are a few sculptors that generally use the studio,” Kendall said. “And they’re all getting ready for an upcoming contest. But there are people who come here that aren’t professionals too. We have several classes in different mediums. In fact, we have a painting class tonight.”
“Do you really?” Amy asked.
“And is there space in that class?” Heather asked, smiling at her friend.
“We do,” Kendall said. “Are you interested? I’d love to have you join. The more, the merrier. And I have to admit I’d like having a fan in the building.”
“I’d love to come,” Amy said.
“Let me get you some more information that you can take with you, and I’ll have it for you by the time you’re finished admiring the garden,” Kendall said before leaving for the building.
Amy had a wry grin on her face. “Wow. When I say I’m going to start something new, I really mean it.”
Master Class
Heather hurried towards the art studio with a box of Spiced Maple Donuts in tow. She was happy that Amy had suggested that they meet up after the class and walk home together. Heather had decided that some donuts from her shop would be a nice touch to bring to the artists. She was hoping that this sweet bribe would allow her a peek at Amy’s work-in-progress. She was very excited to see what her friend would create.
Amy waved as Heather entered. Based on the big smile on her face, Heather was confident that her bestie was feeling better about things. The class enjoyed the donuts that Heather offered, and she was allowed a peek at Amy’s painting. Even though it wasn’t complete, Heather could tell that her friend had a lot of talent. She couldn’t wait to see the finished product.
“So, do you think you’ve found your thing?” Heather asked.
“I’ve got a good feeling about it,” Amy said. "Especially if I'll be treated to donuts after my classes."
“If I can keep seeing your art, it will be a deal,” Heather said.
“Great,” said Amy. “But we’re going to have to start heading out now. The studio is reserved tonight for the professional sculptors who are working on their contest entries.”
They were about to leave when Kendall came up to them.
“You didn’t tell me how talented she was,” Kendall said to Heather. “She has a great eye. And I can say that after seeing her work now, and not just because she liked my work. We might have to put you in a more advanced class.”
"I'd be interested in learning some of these other mediums too," Amy said. "I know a bit about painting, but don't know a lot about sculpture. I’d love to learn more. I’ll look at the schedule of classes you gave to me.”
“I’ll do you one better,” said Kendall. “You could stay tonight and watch the master sculptors work. That’s always inspiring. And then if you'd like to take a class, you'll know what you're in for. Your friend could stay too since she brought us delicious refreshments."
“If that’s not infringing on your special thing,” Heather said.
“It’s fine,” Amy said. “This time you’re doing my thing with me. It’ll be great.”
Kendall showed them to some seats around the edge of the studio where they would be able to watch the artists work without getting in their way.
“There are just a few things I should warn you of,” Kendall said. “The first is that they are preparing for a competition. They have to make an artistic version of a Christmas tree in 3D. So, this isn’t using a chisel and stone type of sculpting. Most of the artists will be combining found parts into their own vision. There will be some metalworking involved and some building. Everyone will have their own technique for the holiday competition.”
“It sounds exciting,” said Amy.
“What’s the other thing you have to warn us about?” Heather asked.
“That the artists might be a bit volatile,” Kendall said.
“Thief!” an artist yelled, as she entered the space.
Kendall shrugged. “See what I mean?”
“Kendall,” the artist said, running up to her. She had large frizzy hair and huge amounts of original jewelry on.
“What’s wrong, Tricia?”
“Somebody robbed me,” the artist Tricia said. “That’s what’s wrong.”
"They stole your idea again?" Kendall asked. “Or they stole something else?”
"I had a boat propeller I wanted to use in my design, and it's missing," Tricia fumed.
“Maybe it’s just been misplaced?” Kendall suggested.
“It was with all my supplies,” Tricia said. “Somebody stole it.”
The rest of the artists started filling in and listening to the tirade as they got their own work areas set up. There was one other female artist. She was a small woman with a short bob for hair. There were three men that had come in too. One was a giant of a man that was quietly arranging pinecones. A handsome man with big arm muscles was collecting some wires.
The last man decided to insert himself into the argument. He had scraggly hair and was missing a front tooth.
“What is she squawking about?” the man asked. “Is she still going on about last year’s competition? Because if she is still saying that I stole her idea, she’s crazy.”
Kendall began, “Ray, let’s not—“
“I was the one who began working with garden trowels long before she did. She stole my idea!” Ray said.
“You see what I have to work with?” Tricia asked. “He stole my idea last year. And now he’s still my supplies.”
“I didn’t steal anything,” Ray said.
“Ray, why don’t you start working on your entry?” Kendall said. “Tricia, we can look for your propeller together.”
“It’s a huge propeller. It’s not hiding. It’s obviously not here. It was stolen,” Tricia said. “And now I’m going to have to come up with an entirely new plan for my tree. I’m going to be behind schedule.”
"If it helps, I can keep the studio open late tonight," Kendall said. "I'd have to run home and check on my dog, but I can keep it open here."
“I think that will be necessary,” Tricia said. “If you’re going to allow art thieves to use the space with me.”
Tricia stormed off. Amy turned to Heather.
“This is going to be an interesting night,” she said.
Deadly Decorations
“You’re really doing some art classes?” Luz asked. “I think that’s wonderful. Perhaps I should explore more artistic ventures myself. I already surprised myself by becoming a donut baker.”
Heather smiled at her assistant. She and Amy were at Donut Delights and were making sure that both the Spiced Maple Donuts and her assistants were ready for the day.
Digby leaned on the counter and joined the conversation. “I already have an artistic outlet. I’m going to be in a play.”
“That’s fitting,” Amy said. “You can be rather dramatic.”
Digby mimed being shot in the heart by her remark.
“I can’t believe how many artists I’m close to,” Luz said. “Digby’s theater, Amy’s painting, and Heather’s donuts.”
“They are a work of art,” Digby agreed. “I loved this new Spiced Maple one, but I guess I do love all of them.”
"Thanks," Heather said. “You’ll love Amy’s art too.”
“But don’t put it in your mouth,” Amy joked.
They all laughed. Amy and Heather then told the others about how they had stayed to watch the sculptors work. The abstract holiday trees that they were making were impressive, but there were definit
ely big personalities in the room last night.
“Kendall said that I could stop by this afternoon before the watercolors class to look for materials for my own sculpture. I think she wants to mentor me,” Amy said. “But I think she also wants me to bring some donuts.”
"I can bring some over with you if you want," Heather said. "It's pretty close, and I wouldn't mind taking a walk this afternoon."
“That would be great,” Amy said.
Before they could start out though, they had an unexpected visitor in their shop.
"Seasons Greetings," Mr. Rankle called out cheerfully.
Heather and Amy froze and exchanged a look. Mr. Rankle was their shop neighbor that had always despised them for the simple fact that they were from out-of-town. He hated tourists and basically considered everyone who wasn’t born on the island to be a tourist. He had given them trouble in the past, not limited to telling customers that their donuts contained food poisoning.
“I know it’s a little early,” Amy said. “But do you think he was visited by three ghosts last night?”
Heather shrugged. A Scrooge-like experience was as feasible as any other reason for Mr. Rankle’s sudden change in behavior towards them.
“Seasons greetings to you too,” said Heather.
“Merry early Christmas,” Amy added.
Luz and Digby were watching the exchange, waiting to see if the tide would turn and Mr. Rankle would cause trouble. Luz had a hand near the phone, and Digby was debating whether he was willing to sacrifice donuts if hurling them would cause a distraction.
However, Mr. Rankle continued to appear to be a kindly old man. He brought a box of decorations inside with him.
“I couldn’t help but notice that your shop was looking a little sparse with Christmas cheer,” he said. “So, I brought some extra décor from my shop to help you out.”
“That is very kind of you,” Heather said. However, she wasn’t sure they should accept the gift in case it turned out to be some sort of Trojan Horse dancing Santa. “But I wouldn’t want to put you out and take all your decorations.”
“It’s fine. You know that I sell novelties and so I always end up with extra decorations at the end of my season,” said Mr. Rankle. “I want our neighborhood to be cheery, and so I’ll do my part to make sure it is.”
“Thank you,” Heather said. “We’ll do our part too.”
“Make sure you put them all up,” Mr. Rankle said with a sickeningly sweet smile. “Well, happy holidays.”
He left them, and they all looked at the decorations confused.
“I don’t understand,” Amy said. “What’s his ulterior motive?”
“Do you think it’s possible that he turned over a new leaf and is trying to be a good neighbor?” Heather asked. “Maybe the Christmas spirit got the better of him?”
“No way,” Digby said.
Luz nodded, "He did everything he could to try and put you out of business. Why should he stop now?"
“But they’re decorations,” Heather said. “How can they be part of an evil plot?”
"Use that mind of yours that you use for catching criminals," Digby said. "Maybe he doused it all in cat pee or something gross like that. Then the whole place will stink, and no one will want to buy food."
Heather sniffed the box of decorations. “It smells like holly to me.”
“What if it’s rigged to catch fire and burn all of poor Donut Delights down?” Luz asked.
Heather looked through the box. “They look like regular lights to me. And I don’t think he would stoop to arson. Besides, he likes this building. He just doesn’t like us inside it.”
"What if there are bugs inside there and they'll crawl out and ruin our ingredients?" Amy suggested.
"No," Luz said, shuddering. "Todo menos eso. Anything but that."
Heather shook her head. “How would Mr. Rankle get those bugs?”
“They’re his friends,” Amy joked.
“And a bug infestation would hurt the whole neighborhood and not just us,” Heather continued.
Luz still looked frightened.
“But if it makes you feel better, we can spray the décor and keep them in airtight bags for a few hours,” Heather said. “And then after that time, I guess we should hang them up.”
“Are you serious?” Digby asked.
“Yes,” said Heather. “If Mr. Rankle is indeed extending the olive branch.”
“Which is a pine tree branch this time,” Amy said.
“Then I don’t want to ignore it,” said Heather. "Maybe Christmas makes him jolly, and we can use this festive mood to become better neighbors."
“Well, if you say so,” Digby said.
“I do,” said Heather. “We’ll trust him until there’s evidence that we can’t. And we’ll trust that this new art class is good for Amy.”
“Big mistake,” Digby muttered. “I mean just about Mr. Rankle.”
However, it turned out that he wasn’t completely wrong on both counts.
“Kendall?” Amy asked as they approached the warehouse studio.
“Are we too early?” Heather asked.
“I don’t think so,” said Amy. “Maybe a few minutes. But she told me to come in before the class.”
They tried the door and found that it was unlocked.
“Oh good. She must be here and expecting us,” said Amy.
Heather started to have a bad feeling about what they were walking into, but still followed her friend inside the room.
“Kend-aah!” Amy screamed, after not finishing her mentor’s name.
Heather found the light switch and then saw what Amy had seen the outline of. A woman’s body had been impaled on the top of one of the tree statues. She was clearly dead, and it was clearly murder.
Crime Scene Art
“I’m sorry you had to be the ones to stumble onto this crime scene,” Ryan said. “This couldn’t have been a pleasant one to find.”
Heather responded, “Crime scenes are never pleasant when somebody was murdered.”
“It had to be murder, didn’t it?” Detective Peters asked. He was Ryan’s partner, and while very diligent about his job, was also somewhat new to it.
“I think it had to be,” Heather said. “That tree sculpture was over four feet tall, and the victim was impaled right in her abdomen. She couldn’t have fallen onto it by accident.”
“My face must be as green as the evergreen trees,” said Amy. “I feel sick.”
“Now what were you two doing here again?” Detective Peters asked. “Or were you just drawn here because you have such a knack for solving cases you’re starting to know when they start now?”
“If we could stop a murder before it happened, now that would be a real knack,” Heather said. “But it was nothing like that. Amy and I were coming here to see the owner of the building and Amy’s new art instructor, Kendall.”
“She told us to meet her here,” said Amy. “And that’s why in the dark, I thought it was her that was killed. I mean, it’s still really upsetting that someone else was, but Kendall was becoming my friend.”
“Right,” Detective Peters said, checking his notes. “The owner is Kendall Dakwa, but the victim is…”
“Tricia Mollins,” Ryan answered, being quicker to supply the information than the notebook.
“She was an artist here,” Heather said. “We saw her working on her statue for a competition here last night.”
“And she wasn’t too happy with her fellow artists,” Amy said, explaining how Tricia had accused them of theft.
"But if she was the one who was angry with her colleagues, how did that lead to her murder?” Detective Peters asked. “She wasn’t the one doing the killing?”
“That guy with the missing tooth was angry too,” Amy said. “He accused Tricia of stealing his sculpture idea last year. They both accused each other.”
“His name was Ray,” Heather added.
“We’ll have to speak to him,” Ryan said. �
��And to everyone else who worked with the victim.”
“There were four artists her besides Tricia Mollins last night,” said Heather. “But I think Kendall would be able to give you more information on them.”
"That's something I don't understand," Amy said. "Where was Kendall? She was supposed to meet us here but was late. But why was the door open?"
"She did say that she would let Tricia stay late last night," said Heather. "But we'll have to get the details on that as well."
“I really hope that Kendall isn’t the killer,” Amy said. “If she is, everything positive she said about my art could have been a lie.”
“You’re a great artist and a great investigator,” Heather said. “No matter how this case turns out, both of those things will be true.”
“Thanks,” Amy said.
“Did all of the artists who were here last night hear that Kendall said she would let Tricia use the space last night?” asked Ryan.
“Yes,” said Heather. “She made an offer at the end of the session for others to stay too if they wanted to work on their projects some more. I’m not sure if any of them took her up on the offer.”
“They might have come back later to commit the crime too,” said Amy.
“But how did they commit the crime?” Detective Peters said, looking at the crime scene. The body and the top of the sculpture had been removed so that the medical examiner could conduct an autopsy, but the bottom half of the statue remained.
"That is a good question," Heather said. "We already determined that Tricia Mollins couldn’t have fallen onto the tip of the statue.”
“And it was a very pointy,” Amy said. “You don’t often realize how dangerous the tip of a Christmas tree can be.”
“Well, it’s not often that the tree is made out of pipes,” said Heather. “And it was a work in progress, so I think the jagged part at the top would have eventually been softened.”
“Whose art project was this?” Ryan asked.
“I think it was that big quiet guy’s,” Amy said.
“I believe his name was Horatio,” Heather said. “But he definitely was a quiet man. I think we maybe heard two words from him in the entire time that everyone was working.”
Spiced Maple & Murder Page 2