“You,” he stated without hesitation. “You’re kind of cute when you’re on a mission.”
Good save, I decided.
He let go of the arm he’d been holding to usher me out of the gallery. “Let’s check out the next one on the list. I think it’s just a couple of blocks away,” Luke said encouragingly.
As we walked, we chatted about various shops and street performers we passed. It would have been a great day if we were just a couple of tourists enjoying the sights and sounds of New Orleans. Unfortunately, our search needed results if we were going to make any progress in finding a murder suspect who didn’t happen to be Luke. No pressure.
When we reached our destination, we entered the gallery to the sound of tinkle bells similar to the ones on the Big & Blessed shop door. A man who appeared to be in his early sixties looked over from where he stood dusting some picture frames.
“Help you?” he asked, a smile softening his tired face.
While I was trying to decide how best to approach this one, Luke began, “I saw you have a Monet print over there, so I’m hoping you deal in a variety of classic artists?”
“That’s right,” the man replied, putting down his duster and shoving his hands into his pockets as he approached us.
“We’re looking for some information about a painting by Rupert Frost. Are you familiar with his work?” Luke asked expectantly.
“You could say that,” the man responded with a slight smile and nod. “What piece are you lookin’ for?”
I was perfectly content to just listen since Luke seemed to be meeting with some success.
“It’s called Marianne’s Garden,” Luke explained while I held my breath and crossed my fingers.
“Sure,” the man replied, “got it right over here. Interesting history with this one,” he hesitated before reaching the section he’d been heading for and turned toward us. “Are you looking for the story behind the painting or just the print?”
“We’d be interested in the story, too, if you wouldn’t mind telling us everything you know about it,” Luke nodded anxiously.
“Huh. Most people just want to take their print and go. It’s nice to see a young couple interested in the history that comes with it.” He had reached the prints he wanted and pulled out a copy of the painting we’d seen on the internet. “Harrison Richard’s my name. Spelled like Richard, but pronounced Ree-shard,” he explained as he pulled a business card from his shirt pocket and handed it to Luke.
Mr. Richard sat the framed print on the floor and propped it against the wall as he spoke. “This painting was done in 1892. Rupert Frost was sweet on a beautiful young widow named Marianne. She had three children she was raising on her own, and since she lived in a tiny apartment, she had no yard. She told Frost of her dream of having a yard for the children to play in and a garden for herself, so he painted this picture of a beautiful garden for her. They planned to be married, but when Marianne’s two oldest children were killed in a fire at their grandparent’s house, she cut off contact with everyone she knew including Frost and moved to New York with her only surviving child. Apparently, her four-year-old had the flu and didn’t go to the grandparent’s house for the weekend, so he was the only family she had left after that fire. Marianne died in 1925, and the painting was inherited by her son, Jeremiah Parker. Now, Jeremiah wasn’t willing to part with the painting, but he did provide the original to be copied, and that was the first the art world heard of this long lost piece. Since Rupert Frost died as a young man at 31 years old, his paintings were few in number but very popular. Once this piece was authenticated as one of his earlier works and combined with the story Jeremiah Parker was sharing as it had been told to him by his mother, Marianne’s Garden was worth a lot of money. As you can see, it’s a beautiful painting.”
Mr. Richard, who’d been looking at Luke and I while telling the story, paused to stare at the painting in question for a moment. “Here’s where the story goes from documented fact to legend. In 1963, Jeremiah Parker died. That’s easy enough to verify. However, Jeremiah had five children, three boys and two girls. His will indicates the painting was inherited by the oldest son, Joshua. In 1969, six years after inheriting the painting, Joshua was found shot to death in his home. There is some question at that point whether the painting went to his siblings or to his children. It was reported that the painting was sold by the family about 3 months later, but it was never disclosed who bought it, and it has never been displayed or even acknowledged as part of a collection publically.”
“That’s quite a story,” I said softly, still processing all the information. “Do you know that much about every painting in here?”
Mr. Richard chuckled slightly. “It would make me look pretty impressive if I said yes. Truth is, I’m a bit of a history buff, so I research the paintings I’m interested in knowing more about. Marianne’s Garden has always intrigued me, because it’s so beautiful and such a little known piece. Would you two like a print of this painting? If you don’t like this frame, I can do the matting and frame of your choice.”
“I think just the print without any framing would work best for now,” Luke answered as he pulled out his wallet. “We’ll come back and have it framed and matted once things calm down a little,” he said as he glanced at me and smiled.
CHAPTER 11
Once we paid for and received the cylinder that contained the print of Marianne’s Garden, we thanked Mr. Richard for his time as well as the information and waved goodbye as we left. When we were finally out on the street, I couldn’t contain my excitement any longer.
“I don’t know exactly what this means, but it must mean something, right? The original of this painting must be involved in Eliza and Barney’s deaths, since we know he was taking care of it for her. At least it’s the only thing we’ve come across so far that has any kind of questionable background,” I concluded, not entirely sure if that made any sense.
Apparently Luke was following my line of thinking, since he responded, “By questionable do you mean ‘possibly illegal?’ That’s the direction I’m thinking this thing might take by the sound of that family. I guess it’s possible Eliza had stolen property, but wouldn’t that make her want to hide the painting from the authorities alone? Who else would want it enough to steal it from someone who stole it, if that is what Eliza did?”
Luke and I stopped walking, looked at each other, and asked at the same time, “The people it was stolen from?”
“Ah, great minds detect alike, I see,” Luke suggested and then laughed. “Or if we’re wrong, at least we aren’t wrong alone.”
“I know, right? Don’t you hate it when you’re wrong and everyone else is right? At least you don’t have to worry about that with me around,” I joked.
“I do appreciate that about you,” Luke pointed out. “However, sometimes you’re right, because when it happened that one time, I notated it in my journal. See if you can make that happen again. I know the info we have is connected. I just don’t see how this brings us any closer to who might have killed Eliza and Barney. Even if it was the legal owner of the painting who killed them to get the painting back, we have no idea who that might be.”
“Well,” I began cautiously, “I don’t think we can make any real headway with the information until we talk to Eliza’s brother tomorrow morning. His wife said he knew more about the painting’s story than she could remember, so let’s hope he can and will fill in enough blanks to send us in the right direction.”
I could see the stress lines on Luke’s forehead and decided he probably needed to get his mind off of art theft and murder. “Notated in your journal?” I inquired.
“Yeah, I don’t really have a journal, but I do like giving you a hard time,” he said honestly. “If it bothers you that you weren’t actually captured in print in my nonexistent journal, I promise you this. If you are ever correct again, and it gets back to me, I will notate it somewhere. So you have that to look forward to.”
�
��Be still my heart,” I said totally void of expression. “How will I sleep at night now? I’ll feel I have to stay up late thinking of some way that I can be right about something – anything, just so I can have the claim to fame of being notated somewhere by you.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you can be a little difficult?” Luke asked, trying not to smile but failing miserably.
“Yup,” I admitted honestly. “I’m really hungry. Do you want to get something to eat?”
“Sure. I was thinking since we’re in the Quarter with all this great music, we could maybe catch a band. How about seafood, drinks, and jazz?”
“That sounds great,” I agreed, looking around at the various restaurants, bars, and clubs surrounding us. “Which should we do first?”
“Being as multi-talented as I am, I was thinking we could do all three at once, if we walk this way,” Luke suggested pointing down the next block.
Sure enough, the sign hanging over an open doorway read Seafood - Drinks - Jazz. I spewed out a laugh as I said, “Here I thought you came up with that great combo on your own like some kind of genius, when actually you were just reading a sign?”
“Oh, come on. You have to admit,” he replied smiling as though entirely pleased with himself. “It takes a certain gift to be surrounded by all this music, food, and drink, but still zero in on the one spot that has it all. Admit it. You’re kind of impressed, aren’t you?”
“Okay, you are way cool, my hero, and a gifted genius. Now really, some food and drink before I faint would be nice,” I said as I headed for the Seafood - Drinks - Jazz doorway.
Luke chuckled as he caught up with me, “I’m going to ignore that hint of sarcasm in your voice, since we both know everything you said is true.” I thought I was walking fast, but his legs were longer than mine so keeping pace with him made me have to trot. As we walked through the doorway, the smell of cooking seafood made my mouth water.
There were quite a few tables throughout the middle of the place directly off the dance floor, but only three booths along the side wall. Two were occupied, so Luke steered me toward the empty booth, ushered me into the side facing the stage, and slid in next to me. It was very cozy, but you couldn’t see the stage if you sat on the other side of the booth. A waitress came over carrying menus, introduced herself as Hannah, smiled invitingly at Luke, ignored me, and said she would be “back in a sec” to take his order.
“So, Maggie,” Luke remarked, opening his menu and perusing the choices. “What are you in the mood for?”
Although there was no innuendo in his question, my mind immediately hopped on that train to Smutville, as I was once again picturing him naked. You have got to stop! I practically shouted at myself silently inside my head. Maybe a drink or two would help me mellow out before that train actually reached Smutville? Not being an experienced or frequent drinker, I had no idea what would be a good choice, and since I didn’t want to look like a bigger goober than I already had to Luke, I came up with a brilliant idea.
“Why don’t you get two of whatever you’re ordering? Anything beverage wise sounds good, and I can’t think of any seafood I don’t eat, so I’ll have whatever you’re having,” I said, pleased that I sounded so easygoing.
Hannah returned at that moment for our order, so he didn’t get the chance to comment on my suggestion.
“Sure,” Luke responded to her question as to whether he was ready to order. “We’ll have two Long Island Iced Teas and the crab fingers to start.” Luke folded the menus and handed them to her as he said, “And we know what we’re ordering for dinner, so you can take these now.” As Hannah drooled over him while she took the menus back, Luke smiled at her and said, “Thanks.”
His arm that was outstretched and now free of menus, he lifted over my head and rested along the back of the booth behind my shoulders. I wish I could tell you he was making a move on me, but the logistical fact was that the alternative to putting his arm behind me would have been putting his arm in my lap. The lap move I would have taken as making a play, but the behind the back thing, I regret to report was a space saver.
No doubt Hannah saw this move, since the smile slid from her face and she turned making a point of tossing her long, curly hair as she headed for the bar. Poor Hannah, so pretty, but not mathematically gifted enough to geometrically calculate our space problem.
Luke seemed totally oblivious to Hannah’s disappointment as he watched the band set up on the stage. “You know, the band probably doesn’t start playing for a while, since it’s kind of early. I hope you don’t mind a little food and drink while we wait for the music.”
I smiled back at him and answered, “No, that’s fine. I’m kind of glad to be off my feet and relaxing.” When Luke turned back to look at the setup happening on the stage, I took the opportunity to glance at my watch. Seven o’clock? He called that early for a band to start? I know I have turned into sort of a maw-maw when it comes to going to bed, but running the Big and Blessed shop was a lot of work. I had never really been a night owl even in college. Now that I thought about it, when CeCe and I came down to the French Quarter with Fry and his friends the bands didn’t typically start until around 10:00 pm, at least in the club we usually frequented. A nice leisurely dinner with Luke sounded good, but I was starting to get a little worried I would fall asleep. I always considered myself up late if I didn’t go to bed at 10:00 and stayed up to watch the news. Especially on a school night.
Oh no! I am a maw-maw! The only reason I don’t have on granny panties is because I had to buy some down here and didn’t want Luke to see them in my laundry. I just needed to think of something to pep myself up. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was hungry, so maybe part of my fatigue problem was a nutritional deficiency. I probably just needed to eat something, and that should make me feel better, right? Of course it would. I was feeling peppier already.
Since Luke was totally engrossed in the band setting up, he didn’t seem to notice my silence while I was talking myself out of missing any fun.
“I can’t believe these guys have an Invector 3000!” Luke exclaimed with awe in his voice. “If they’re any good, this is going to be some incredible sounding music, because that is one awesome guitar!”
I tried to hide my surprise as I turned to Luke and asked, “You know about guitars? I didn’t realize the Peace Corps left any time for musical hobbies? They let you travel around with an electric guitar and amp?”
Luke turned to me, laughing, “It’s not prison, you know. They let you do pretty much what you want, but they do encourage traveling light. I have an acoustic guitar, but I’ve always wanted an electric one like that. I’m not that good and could never justify the expense. Or afford it, for that matter, but that is one sweet guitar.”
When Muscle Shirt Guy started doing the sound check with the Invector 3000, I leaned over next to Luke’s ear and yelled, “I know you want to go up there and have a closer look, so I promise not to consider you rude if you go chat with Muscle Shirt Guy.”
He smiled, leaned down so I could hear him over the amped strumming on stage, and yelled, “I would argue with you, but I think honesty is far too rare in today’s society so I’m going to practice a little right now. That means I’m not going to insist I don’t want to go up there when I actually do. Be right back.”
I didn’t realize it at the time that I sent him up there, but this gave me the opportunity to stare at Luke while he was engrossed in a conversation with someone else. Since that was a rarity, I took full advantage and watched him as if he were doing something fascinating, which to me he was as long as he was breathing.
Muscle Shirt Guy seemed a little quiet when Luke first got there and started talking to him, but after a minute the guitar dude was tossing his hair out of his eyes and laughing along with Luke at whatever they were saying about the amp. I hadn’t really noticed before, because I’d been a little bummed that I kept making such a fool of myself in front of him, but he really did seem to have a way of
making everyone around him feel relaxed and comfortable.
At that moment, Hannah plopped my drink down in front of me, Luke’s down in front of his seat, and the crab fingers in the middle of the table. She turned and left without a word while I was still stunned by her delivery. I had been so interested in watching Luke I hadn’t noticed her approach.
I knew the polite thing would be to wait for Luke’s return before sampling the crab fingers, but hunger won out over etiquette. I grabbed one and took a big bite. Yum, delicious but kind of spicy. No wait – now it was really hitting me – very spicy. I grabbed my drink and took a few big gulps. Although the moisture helped extinguish the fire in my mouth, the alcohol warmed my throat, esophagus, and stomach as it went down. Wow! That drink has a little kick to it, but it sure did taste good.
I was reflecting on my good fortune that Luke was still up with the band and unable to see my eyes watering after my first swallow. I pretty much stick to wine when it comes to drinking, which I’m thinking might have a slightly lower alcoholic content than what I’d just ingested. Although I’d heard of Long Island Iced Tea, I had never actually had one. Now that I was beginning to feel tingling all through my body, I have to say I was fast becoming a fan. I took another drink, just to make sure the warming sensation wasn’t a fluke. Nope, that is definitely good stuff, but I might have been wrong about it having a higher alcoholic content, because the mouthful I just swallowed went down much smoother than my first impression. Maybe it isn’t really stronger than wine. As I sat my glass back down Luke returned, so I slid to the inside part of the booth, and he slid in next to me.
I gave him a big smile and a “Hi!” a little louder and more enthusiastic than I intended. Luke smiled at me questioningly, until his eyes landed on my glass which was now half empty.
He let out a little laugh, looked into my eyes, and cautiously asked, “Do you drink these often? ‘Cause if you aren’t used to them, they can sneak up on you.”
NOT What I Was Expecting Page 16