Murder and the Masterpiece

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Murder and the Masterpiece Page 6

by Rosie Sams


  On cue, Claudia walked or rather glided over. “Hi, Melody.” She gave Melody air kisses and smiled. “Oh, my God, I’m in the presence of two artists. Melody, your pastries are pure culinary art, I tell you. My taste buds are still raving.”

  Melody giggled and ducked her head. “You’re too kind, Claudia. Thank you.”

  Beaming, Claudia placed a hand over Sam’s arm and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m glad I took your advice and stuck around, Melody. I got to know a real artist better.”

  Melody watched Sam turn a deeper shade of red and had to fight to hold back her knowing grin. Sam and Claudia were obviously into each other. Clearing her throat lightly, Melody said, “Right. Well, you two continue working the room. Everyone is clamoring to speak with the brilliant artist and his model.”

  “Thanks again, Melody.” Sam smiled, leading Claudia away.

  “You just picked up on what I deduced about an hour ago,” came a smooth drawl that made her heart flutter. She hadn't realized that Alvin had broken away from the small group he’d been conversing with and was standing so close. He stood in front of a painting of the waterfront, hands behind his back and seemingly engrossed in the painting.

  Melody inched closer to him to assess the same painting. “What would that be?”

  “That Sam has scored with Claudia.”

  “Al.”

  He grinned, still facing forward. “Well, it’s obvious.”

  “True.” Melody giggled. “You seem to appreciate this piece quite a bit.”

  Finally, he turned to her, his eyes alight with amusement. “No, I’m getting absolutely nothing from this. I just wanted to look like everyone else. This is how it's done, right? Stand and stare at a painting with your hands behind your back and say, hmmm, every now and again.”

  There was no containing the laugh that erupted from Melody. She clamped a hand over her mouth when a few others turned their way. Snickering, she slapped his arm playfully. “Behave yourself.”

  Alvin chuckled and wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her closer. “In all seriousness, Sam’s work is very good.”

  “Aren’t they? They’re all so beautiful, especially the ones of Claudia. I love the one of her standing on the balcony of the Port Warren Inn with the moon illuminating behind her and her hair seemingly whipping about in the wind. The detail on that one was magnificent.”

  Alvin nodded. “Sure, but my favorite is the one of the pastry chef in her bakery. That one most definitely captured true beauty.”

  As if her face wasn’t flushed enough and her heart wasn’t in enough of a puddle, he added, “The model for that one is truly beautiful. The most beautiful woman here.”

  “Oh, Alvin,” she breathed. “Thank you.”

  He smiled and brought his head down to capture her lips.

  “Why don’t you collect Smudge from Mr. Kritchner’s office, and let’s take a stroll in the moonlight?” he suggested.

  “That sounds lovely. I’ll be right back.”

  After getting Smudge, the three exited the gallery and strolled down the sidewalk with the moon and stars lighting their way. Smudge happily led, while Alvin and Melody followed slowly with their hands intertwined. All in all, it was the perfect end to the perfect night. She could only hope they didn’t trip over a body.

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  Ding. Melody stretched the dough a little further; holding her breath as she expertly pulled it just enough to ensure a perfectly thin, translucent layer. The bell pinged again, and Melody glanced around for Kerry.

  “Hey, Ker—where are you?” she called, failing to detect her assistant’s presence. Melody shook her head, wiped her hands on her apron, exited the kitchen and hurried into the shop. There stood her best customer, Alvin Hennessy, the small town’s local sheriff, his kind brown eyes lighting up as Melody came into his view. He hastily removed his hat, cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly down at her.

  “Oh, hey there, Mel. Sorry to stop in again today, but I forgot I needed a cake for Ma’s hen party tonight.” Alvin shuffled his feet shyly, his cheeks reddening.

  Melody sighed. She was grateful for his business, but suspected he purposely cut his order in two so he had an excuse to drop by twice today. She would have preferred efficiency, but good manners and a genuine fondness for the sheriff prevented her from showing any exasperation. She should be flattered by his attention—she knew, but she really wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship at this point in her life. Not that he wasn’t handsome, in his own way, but he was just not her type, she supposed, even if she were in the market for a romantic relationship. She took a quick moment to evaluate his appearance. He possessed the long, lean lines of a thoroughbred, but somehow wasn’t able to project his inherent attractiveness, even in uniform. Perhaps it was his somewhat elongated face, but no, that wasn’t really it; it was more his inability to realize his own appeal, a slight insecurity, an awkwardness. She mentally shook herself and focused on the business at hand.

  “Not a problem, Al. Always good to see you!” she said, forcing a genuine smile.

  She felt a pang of guilt at her fib, but knew she probably made his day with her comment. In spite of her uncanny ability to notice and discern the overt as well as hidden attributes of others, Melody possessed a baffling blindness to her own qualities. She could have easily graced the pages of any girlie magazine, even in jeans and her trademark logoed tee. An Irish beauty, Melody was blessed with more than her fair share of pluses: glossy auburn, shoulder-length tresses (albeit piled on her head and anchored with a hairnet), an angelic face, and statuesque curves to rival any pin-up girl. She had many secret (and not so secret) male admirers in town, but even though she was consistently friendly and courteous, she possessed an intimidating blend of self-assurance, the formerly discussed unawareness of her beauty, and a steadfast personal rule against flirting.

  “What kind of cake did you have in mind? We have a cream cheese-filled red velvet and an orange-hickory nut on hand. Kerry made them yesterday, and they’re still fresh.”

  As if summoned by her name, Kerry rushed in, flinging out hyper apologies as she whipped on an apron over her uniform of sparkly blue jeans and the shop’s logo-emblazoned t-shirt.

  “Where were you?” Melody asked.

  “I forgot my phone in my car and wanted to make sure Aunt Rita didn’t call with her family reunion order. I told her to call the shop rather than my cell, but she never remembers the number and can’t be bothered to look it up. Good thing I checked; as she did leave me a voicemail with what she wants, and she’s hoping to get everything tomorrow afternoon, even though the reunion doesn’t start until Friday evening!” Kerry’s words tumbled over each other as her hands gestured wildly. Melody wondered how Kerry was able to breathe while talking at such a rate.

  “I see you’ve gone over your quota of caffeine today,” Melody teased, noting Kerry’s messy blond bun slipping out of the hair net stretched crookedly over her head and the slight sheen of sweat on her brow.

  Kerry, plump and pretty, was engaged to Port Warren High’s beloved football coach, George Stanley, who adored her. In Kerry’s mind, this gave her free reign to play matchmaker with all her unfortunately single friends and acquaintances, especially her beautiful boss.

  “Yeah, might have overdone the go-juice just a tad.” Kerry chuckled, tucking her stray blond strands back into the net. Kerry then turned her attention to their visitor. “Hey, Al, you forget something? Weren’t you in earlier?”

  Alvin blushed and nodded, looking down at his shoes and rubbing his close-cropped brown hair.

  Kerry smiled wickedly at his obvious discomfiture. “I’m beginning to think this is your new office!”

  Melody gave her a quick, pursed-lip glare, knowing it would only encourage her would-be marriage broker to continue to tease poor Alvin.

  “Yep, completely forgot
about Ma’s card deal tonight; she wanted me to pick up a cake; whatcha got in stock?” Alvin asked trying to recover himself.

  As the sheriff switched his embarrassed attention to his torturer, Melody took the opportunity to slip quietly back into the kitchen to finish the croissants, leaving Kerry to fill Alvin’s order. She concentrated, cutting and folding thin strips into perfect crescents.

  “That guy’s got it bad!” Kerry announced as she sailed into the kitchen, automatically beelining it for the coffee machine.

  “No! You’re cut off!” Melody was quick to see her assistant’s intention and she grabbed Kerry’s sleeve with a floury hand, “No more coffee for you!”

  Kerry sheepishly set the pot back down and crossed her arms. She eyed the tray of bakery rejects that failed Melody’s perfectionistic eye, sighed, and helped herself to a broken cookie. Nibbling, she glared at Melody.

  “You’ve got it bad,” Melody insisted. “You’re torturing that poor man, and you know it! What did he end up buying?”

  “Don’t try and change the subject! That dog is one whipped puppy. If he really forgot that cake this morning, I’m a one-eyed frog. His mom has bridge every Wednesday night, tonight is no exception!” Kerry exclaimed while munching through a second cookie reject.

  Melody shrugged, not wanting to encourage that line of thinking. She’d known for a while that Alvin had a thing for her. She tried her best to ignore it and avoid him as much as possible. With her busy schedule, she just wasn’t ready for anything serious, even if it was with someone like Alvin. Or was it really about her schedule? Whatever, she was just not into a relationship at the moment. She had to admit, he was a good guy. And he would probably treat her right if she ever gave him a chance. But it was just too soon.

  “He’s either going to have to man up and ask you out or go broke buying donuts and cakes! For a lawman, he ain’t very brave!” Kerry added.

  Melody let her rattle on, hoping Kerry would run out of words on the subject, though that seemed unlikely.

  Kerry propped her chin on her left palm looking all dreamy. “I think he’s cute, though, don’t you? A little on the puppy dog side, but still pretty manly when he’s not tripping over his tongue when you’re around.”

  Melody sighed, rolled her eyes, and kept silent. It was her weapon of choice and it worked well with Kerry, whose main hobby was verbalizing, combined with taking off on frequent, caffeine-infused rabbit trails. So, Kerry prattled on while Mel took a moment to mull over the situation.

  In truth, she almost wished she reciprocated Alvin’s apparent feelings. She dreaded the day she would really have to reject such a nice guy. She blew out a breath of frustration, hoping against hope that he would never find the courage to approach her romantically because in that way she could avoid the whole ordeal. If he did ever find the courage to ask her out, she would just have to find a nice way to turn him down. Maybe she should start thinking about how she could get out of it without hurting his feelings.

  Her thoughts, generally practical, quickly switched over to Aunt Rita’s reunion and she broke into Kerry’s monologue.

  “Which cake did the sheriff end up buying? And what does Aunt Rita need by Friday?” Melody asked and Kerry cooperated with the subject change, her talking talent showcased by her ability to jump off and on any topic train.

  “He decided on the red velvet. Auntie said she needs three cakes: one devil’s food, one pineapple upside down, and one hummingbird. I think I should call her and steer her away from the hummingbird, as it’s too similar to the pineapple upside-down—don’t you think? Maybe a pecan Texas sheet instead? Add a little variety? Also, she wants two-dozen each of chocolate chip, shortbread and peanut butter cookies, an apple strudel and six dozen dinner rolls. I think I better tell her to freeze everything when she gets it tomorrow since she’s not serving most of it until Saturday and Sunday, and I wouldn’t think she’d like them anything but fresh. Really, she should get everything from us Friday afternoon; we could have it done by two, don’t you think? Maybe I should call her? Maybe not, as she never changes her mind once she makes a plan; maybe you should call her? She’d probably listen to you better than me. But maybe freezing them would be good enough and then we wouldn’t be as stressed on Saturday, as we have that wedding cake to deliver and set up, and Jeannette isn’t somebody we want to disappoint with shoddy work…” Kerry continued to ponder the quandary of her aunt’s order while she bustled about wiping counters, putting away clean tools from the dish drainer, and checking—and double-checking—the stores of supplies.

  Just then the bell dinged, heralding another customer, and Kerry whisked out of the kitchen.

  Melody opened the oven and placed the croissant trays inside, setting the timer as she finished. She could hear Kerry’s voice, presumably talking to a customer, and while tempted to start on tomorrow’s orders, she knew she should make an appearance in the shop as some of her customers took it very personally when she was too busy to greet them.

  Kerry’s Aunt Rita stood at the counter, her lips pursed as she listened to her niece’s flood of advice. Rita held up her hand, finally getting Kerry to slow her word flow. Aunt Rita had a closet full of old-fashioned, 50’s style dresses that belted at the waist, everything from floral, to stripes and plaids, to plain. She only ever wore dark brown, laced up walking shoes, white gloves, and netted hats whenever she ventured outside her house. Inside, she wore button-up housedresses, ones she deemed suitable for the constant cleaning she inflicted on her house. Dust was terrified to land anywhere in her vicinity.

  “I need everything by tomorrow afternoon, Kerry Ann, is that going to be a problem?” Just as Kerry opened her mouth to answer, Rita caught sight of Melody.

  “Thank God you’re here! My niece seems to think I don’t know my own mind, and I need her to understand that I need everything tomorrow afternoon. I will be extremely busy with other reunion tasks… of course, I have to do everything myself, the rest of the family cannot be trusted… so I need the desserts squared away tomorrow. Is that too difficult?” Rita glared at Melody belligerently.

  “Oh no, Rita, tomorrow afternoon is perfect! We don’t have another big order besides yours due until Friday afternoon, so it will work out just fine, and your choices show nice forethought and variety,” Melody assured her.

  “Hmph. Kerry Ann here seems to think I don’t have enough variety in the cake department. I keep trying to explain that Cousin Harold loves the pineapple upside down and my sister must have hummingbird. There is no room for substitutes. Now, I need to know if those choices are going to be a problem? I don’t want to take my business elsewhere, but my friend Alice’s cousin bakes and sells cakes out of her kitchen, so I do have other options,” Rita continued to scowl pugnaciously at her niece while she directed her question to Melody.

  “No, we can certainly bake all your choices,” Melody replied calmly. “All your selections are just fine, and there is no finer cake baker than your niece here!”

  Mollified, Kerry let go of her need to adjust Aunt Rita’s cake menu, and smiled at her employer, “Awww shucks, boss-lady! You’re the best!”

  “Hmph,” Rita grunted, clutching her giant purse more firmly to her chest, as if perhaps Melody and Kerry weren’t to be trusted; she then adjusted her old-fashioned hat and exited with, “Okay then. I’ll expect your delivery tomorrow afternoon, but no earlier than two pm, as I’ll need an afternoon rest with all this working myself to death. And for what? Some ungrateful relatives who don’t mind reaping the benefits of all my back-breaking labor!”

  Kerry groaned, shaking her head. As soon as her aunt was out of earshot, she commented, “Oh my God, Aunt Rita is something else, isn’t she? No wonder Uncle Leroy left this earth… her sunny disposition probably poisoned him to death!”

  Melody smiled, suspecting Kerry probably inherited her aunt’s opinionated personality, and ability to talk at lightspeed. Though Kerry was liberally tempered with cheerfulness, Rita lacked pretty much any
positive modifying trait.

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