Murder and the Masterpiece

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Murder and the Masterpiece Page 5

by Rosie Sams


  “Well, Byron Elmsford’s name was pretty huge, and I imagine it will be even bigger now that he’s gone.” She thought of the many celebrities whose fame and fortune skyrocketed after their deaths. “I think any work done by him right before he died will be huge hits. People will pay big for his work now.”

  “That’s exactly what I thought,” Eli returned, nodding enthusiastically. “I’ll make a nice chunk of change. It’s the least that Byron Elmsford can do considering that he brought such horrible publicity to my gallery and my name.”

  Melody gazed slack-jawed at Eli. It constantly amazed her how callous the man was. Byron died, and all he could think about was cashing in. Shaking her head slowly, and not bothering to comment, she returned her attention to Byron’s sketches.

  As she flipped through the pads, she saw various sketches of female models. Many of them were Claudia… but, there was one toward the back that made her gasp and slam the pad shut.

  “Oh, my God.”

  Fishing her cell from her pocket, she called Alvin. There was no answer, and she figured he was probably in the middle of questioning Claudia again. So, she left him a message.

  “Shoot!”

  It seemed she and Smudge would have to follow up on the intriguing and totally unexpected lead by themselves.

  Chapter Eleven

  By the time Melody reached the pharmacy, Vanessa was in the process of closing up. Rushing inside, a little breathless from her power walk, and the excitement coursing through her veins, Melody stopped to take a breath.

  “Vanessa, closing up early today?”

  The woman seemed surprised to see Melody. “Hey, Melody. Yes, I’m closing early today. I’ve been having a rough time. If you’re here for something, I don’t mind helping you out.”

  Glancing around, Melody shook her head. “Actually, I just stopped by to have a chat.”

  “Oh... okay.” Vanessa gave away her nervousness with her sharp intake of breath and the way her eyes skated away from Melody.

  “How are you doing?”

  “Not so well,” Vanessa shrugged. “I’ll be fine in a few days, I guess. Is there any update on the case? On Sam?”

  Stepping closer, Melody watched Vanessa move around behind the counter. If one looked closely enough, it was easy to see that her movements were jerky. She was nervous about Melody’s presence. When she took up a few vials to count them, something clicked in Melody’s brain.

  She stared at the vials of medication in Vanessa’s hands and reflected how Sam had behaved at the art show, even though he claimed to have had only one drink. Her eyes snapped to Vanessa. “Sam is still locked up. His memory is intact, enough to get some useful information. But he kept saying his mind was fuzzy almost as if... he’d been drugged.”

  Vanessa froze, but Melody had her pinned with tunnel vision. She saw the woman’s hands shake ever so slightly. She was pretty sure she’d just connected the dots. Vanessa had done something to Sam.

  Swallowing, Vanessa frowned. “Yes, I did confirm that he only had one drink all night. Maybe he took something that didn’t agree with the champagne. Taking medication and drinking can have serious effects.” The pharmacist smiled slightly and resumed preparing to close up.

  “I’m aware,” Melody said lowly. “You know, Vanessa, I was surprised to see you on Sam’s arm. I mean, to my knowledge, you’ve shown no interest in him prior to the art show, and he hardly seems your type.”

  “Now, you’re judging my relationship with Sam?” Vanessa laughed. “You’ve taken the small-town nosey residents thing to a whole new level, Melody. And you don’t know my type,” she snarled. “You know nothing about me.”

  Melody held back her satisfied smirk when she saw the flash of temper in the woman’s eyes. Vanessa had let her know exactly what she needed to know, that her sweet, docile facade held anger and contempt underneath.

  “Wow, I’ve never seen you so... angry before Vanessa,” Melody goaded. It occurred to her that it was less than smart to infuriate the person she suspected of committing murder, but maybe she could cause Vanessa to slip up and confess.

  “What do you expect when you come in here and start judging?”

  With a shrug, Melody continued. “Sam is my friend. I care about him, and I think that maybe you used him for nefarious reasons.”

  It was a while before Vanessa responded. She stood still, emotions flickering across her face. There was annoyance, outrage, and then an eerie calm. The woman’s lips slowly stretched into a smile that sent a chill down Melody’s spine. “Okay, Melody, you got me. I was never that into Sam. He’s cute and all, sweet too, but, you’re right, he isn’t my type. I used him to score a fun night out. If that’s a crime, arrest me,” she purred and laughed.

  Gritting her teeth, Melody forced herself to remain calm. Hearing Vanessa talk so trivially about using such a great guy rubbed her up the wrong way. Worse, Sam seemed smitten by the pharmacist.

  “Your sarcasm has grounds, Vanessa,” Melody replied coolly. “Using a man and being a horrible person isn’t a crime. But, there’s more to the story, isn’t there?”

  Glaring daggers at Melody, Vanessa lifted a shoulder. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I think it’s about time you went on your way.”

  “I know you posed for, Byron,” Melody threw out. “I saw the sketches in his sketch pad.”

  Vanessa’s eyes widened slightly before she shrugged. “I posed for an artist... no big deal.”

  “I noticed that your sketch didn’t make it to his canvas as many of his other models did. I mean, he displayed work of the beautiful Claudia Conway so many times, and there were others. I never saw you, though.”

  She was definitely getting Vanessa worked up. The woman slammed her fists on the counter and clenched them so tightly, her knuckles turned white. “I’m still not seeing what that has to do with anything or how it’s any of your business,” Vanessa spat out.

  “Did he make empty promises to you too? Did Byron promise you fame and fortune? He probably told you that being his model would get you great exposure and rocket you to stardom. I mean, it’s happened before. Women have started out on Bryon’s canvases and been launched into fashion modeling and acting careers.”

  Vanessa grimaced, her eyes briefly closing tightly. She took several deep breaths and seemed to regain her composure. She then bent over to fiddle with something behind the counter, and Melody wondered what she was doing.

  Very calmly, she stated, “You have quite the interesting theory, Melody. My, your imagination is something else.”

  Melody lifted a brow. “I have more to my theory. Perhaps Byron persuaded you to make Sam look like a madman so he could get away with stealing his work.”

  “Okay, say you were right,” Vanessa reasoned. “Why would I go back and kill Byron?”

  “I never said those words,” Melody said smugly. “But, since you brought it up…”

  Vanessa’s calm expression twisted once again to rage. Her skin flushed, and her eyes bugged. She stopped fiddling with whatever she was fiddling with behind the counter and threw her arms up in defeat. “All right! You got me. I was supposed to be Byron’s muse. He said I was. He flattered me with sweet words, telling me how beautiful I was and how I was the biggest inspiration to his artistic soul.”

  Vanessa snorted and hissed, “I can’t believe I fell for that crap. But, yes, I did think I really was his muse, and I did think I’d become famous. I thought of people seeing me on a canvas at one of his shows, and I’d be discovered by some modeling agency or something. I had dreams of leaving this small town and this unglamorous job and becoming someone great.”

  Melody sighed. “You could have achieved all of that without... killing Byron.” There, she’d said it. She hadn’t hurled the accusation initially because she’d wanted to get Vanessa talking. “Did you murder him?”

  “What do you think?” Vanessa spat. “When I confronted the jerk about not adding me to his show, he patted my arm and said
I was just a means to an end. He got me to show interest in Sam, to be his date so I could get close enough to drug him. When Byron walked into my pharmacy days before the show, I was so impressed by his celebrity status. When he asked me to pose for him, I was over the moon. Then, when he asked me to help him with Sam... well, I would have done anything for him at that point. He was my ticket out of here.

  “Then, to hear that I was nothing to him and that Claudia Conway was his true muse and his real model, I went crazy. I picked up one of Eli Kritchner’s statues and hit him over the head. I didn’t expect him to kick the bucket, but he did. He learned that I’m not one to be trifled with! Then, I went home and gave myself a few bruises to really sell the story about Sam flying into a rage.”

  Melody listened wide-eyed to Vanessa’s crazy rant.

  “I should have been smarter,” Vanessa said. “I should have waited, come back to the pharmacy, and gotten some Potassium Chloride or pentobarbital to inject Byron with. Everyone would think he had a heart attack, and I’d go scot-free. Plus, that poor fool, Sam, wouldn’t have to needlessly rot in jail.”

  Melody’s mouth dropped open. Vanessa Arnold was insane. Criminally insane! How did anyone not realize this? “Vanessa, you need…”

  Vanessa jumped from behind the counter with a syringe in her hand. “You should have kept your nose out of my business, Melody. Do you think I would have told you without a plan? Now, you’re going to have to join that snake, Byron.”

  She lunged forward before Melody could react, sending them tumbling to the floor. Smudge barked and jumped around the two women, unable to find her target as they grappled.

  Melody gripped Vanessa’s wrist and tried with all her strength to keep the syringe away from her. They struggled for what seemed like forever with Smudge yipping and barking and trying to grab hold of Vanessa’s arm.

  “Do you really want to be charged for multiple murders, Vanessa?”

  “No one will ever know about you or Byron,” Vanessa grunted. “Everyone thinks Sam killed Byron, and you won’t be around to blab the truth to anyone, especially your boyfriend.” Vanessa, who had gained the upper hand, let out a howl and looked back. Smudge had grabbed hold of her ankle. “That stupid dog is trying to maul me!” she screamed, trying to shake free of Smudge’s grip.

  Melody took the opportunity to scramble out of the other woman’s reach. Skittering across the floor until she backed into the shelving. Only then did Smudge release her. When Vanessa moved toward Melody again, this time, the pup snagged her wrist between her teeth, and the syringe fell to the floor.

  Melody gasped when Smudge picked up the syringe and backed away from Vanessa. “Smudge, no. We don’t know what’s in that.” Alarmed, Melody scrambled to her feet to get to her companion. “Drop that, girl,’’ she ordered.

  Smudge failed to obey. Her eyes were still on Vanessa as she continued to growl and back away.

  Vanessa shifted her focus from the pup and turned to lunge at Melody again. She was stopped in her tracks by a booming command. “Not another step, Vanessa.”

  Relief swamped Melody at the sound of Alvin’s voice. Thank God, he’d gotten her message. Deputies filed in behind him, guns drawn, to surround Vanessa.

  Vanessa groaned, her shoulders drooping with defeat. She managed to send Melody a look of contempt before she was cuffed.

  Smudge trotted to Melody, the syringe still in her mouth, so Melody quickly removed it. Holding the syringe between her fingers, she sighed. “Smudge, don’t ever do that again. Thank you for saving me, though.” She patted the dog’s head and cooed, “Such a good girl,” as she placed the syringe on the counter. She figured the police could use it as evidence to charge Vanessa with attempted murder as well. The thought made her shiver.

  “Melody, are you all right?” Alvin rushed to her and gave her a once over, his face twisted with concern.

  “I am now.”

  “Oh, Melody,” he sighed and embraced her tightly.

  Melody inhaled deeply and relaxed into his hold. “Thank you, Alvin. You arrived right on time.”

  He scowled down at her. “I’ll lecture you later for yet another reckless move. Right now, I have to deal with Vanessa.” He briefly bent to pat Smudge’s head. “I’m glad you’re always there to protect our girl, Smudge.”

  The dog barked and licked his hand affectionately.

  Smiling, Melody said, “She confessed, Alvin.”

  “Well, we’ll see how chatty she is at the station. We might get nothing on Byron’s case. The only solid thing we have now is proof that she attacked you.”

  Melody paused for a beat and then reached into her pocket to extract her phone, that thankfully hadn’t been smashed when she’d been tackled. Pressing the red button on the screen to end the recording, she grinned at him and held out her phone. “When have I ever failed you, Al?”

  Alvin accepted the device with a low chuckle and unmistakable admiration gleaming in his eyes.

  Chapter Twelve

  The art gallery was alive with chatter and laughter as flashes from cameras lit up the room, capturing the excitement. Melody stood by the dessert table, wearing a broad grin and nibbling on a piece of cheesecake as she took in everything. A squeal that nearly shattered her eardrums sounded beside her, and she winced.

  Turning to the source of the piercing sound, she said, “Goodness, Leslie, you’re becoming just as great at squealing as Kerry is.” Lord knew Kerry had already done enough damage to her hearing before they reached the gallery.

  Leslie clapped her hands and jumped up and down, sending her glasses askew. She adjusted her spectacles, still bubbling with excitement, making Melody smile. She was just as thrilled about everything, too; she just wasn’t quite so loud about it.

  “I’m sorry, Mel. I can’t help it,” she said, pressing her palms together. “This is just so incredible, and I’m so happy for Sam. I had no idea he was such a brilliant artist.”

  “No one in town had any idea.” Melody shrugged. “He kept his talent hidden for so long.”

  “Well, he’s about to make it big time,” Leslie commented.

  “And we can all say that we knew him before he was famous.” Kerry clapped, on the other side of Melody. “That most definitely calls for happy squealing.”

  “I suppose.” Melody laughed.

  Kerry tapped her chin. “I wonder if I can get Sam to autograph something. When he does become super famous, it will be worth a fortune.”

  “Now, you sound like Eli Kritchner,” Melody said. She glanced at Eli across the room. The man was speaking animatedly to a reporter. No doubt, he was spinning quite the tale and ensuring he and his gallery got the most publicity possible.

  Melody chuckled. She was incredibly happy for Sam. Weeks ago, he was behind bars, suspected of murder, and now he was the center of attention, good attention, with his very own art show. He’d gone from hiding his talent to displaying at a packed gallery.

  Eli Kritchner had done a great thing, centering an entire show around Sam’s work. The gallery walls were lined with some of Sam’s most incredible paintings of various subjects. Sam was getting major exposure as reporters had swarmed in because of Byron’s fraud and murder scandal. People were flocking to Port Warren to see the man that the great Byron Elmsford had stolen from. Sam’s show was twice as big as Byron’s had been.

  “Well, you two can carry on with the squealing because Sam is calling me over. Just wait until I’m far enough away before you start again.” She walked toward Sam, who was grinning broadly and motioning for her to join him.

  “Mel, over here! I wanted a picture with one of my models.”

  Melody timidly stepped closer and stood beside Sam and the massive painting of her leaning against the counter of her bakery, smiling. As the photographer snapped a few pictures, she thought of how Sam had captured her. She was shrouded by light, her hair almost like a halo around her head. Her smile was almost angelic, and her eyes shone with kindness. Somehow, he’d managed
to capture all of those fine details, every nuance of her expression. Sam made her look so... beautiful.

  “Oh, Sam, have I told you how amazing this painting looks? I can’t believe you made me one of your models.” Melody couldn’t help feeling flattered, being categorized with the likes of Claudia Conway, a real model.

  “I only hope I captured your kindness, and not just your outer beauty but your inner beauty. I call this piece “Angel” because that’s what you are.” Hand over his heart, he expressed, “I can’t thank you enough for saving my life.” His eyes were filled with gratitude, and he took her by surprise with a tight embrace.

  “I’d hardly say I did all of that, Sam,” she said, hugging him back

  “Are you kidding? I’d be convicted of murder and looking at a life behind bars if you hadn’t worked to prove me innocent. You never lost faith in me, and that’s why you’re an angel.” He gestured to the painting. “That’s how I see you every morning when I walk into your bakery, Melody. You’re always so kind and radiant, and your smile always brightens up my day. I’m sure you brighten all of your customers’ days with the smile you always serve with your pastries.”

  “Thank you, Sam. You’re sweet.” She patted his arm. “I’m just so sorry you had to go through so much. How have you been doing emotionally?”

  He shrugged. “When I think about it too much, I sometimes feel myself getting angry, and then I feel hurt for what Vanessa and Byron did to me. I’m doing good for the most part, however. Everything turned out great for me.”

  Melody smiled. “It did, and I’m so glad.” Her gaze lifted to the wall behind Sam. “And I see you also benefited from the inspiration of a true model.” She waved to the collection of Claudia in several poses and in several locations.”

  Sam rubbed the back of his neck and laughed. “I sure did; Claudia has proven to be an incredible muse.” His red cheeks made Melody lift a brow. It would seem Sam was smitten with the famous model, and who could blame him? Claudia was gorgeous and sweet… when one got to know her.

 

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