by P. Creeden
“This one is my favorite.” Emma reached towards the orange circle of the old man and the young girl.
“I call that one, ‘Family.’” George’s smile lit his face.
“How poetic. I love it.” Emma grinned and set the portrait back.
“So, you have some paperwork for me, I presume?” George asked.
“I do, here.” She handed him the three sheets of paper. “Dr. Lawrence said to sign here, here, and here.” She pointed to the locations on the documents in rapid succession.
“Perfect. I’ll be right back.” George went into the other room, which Emma could only assume was intended as a dining room. The man had converted it into his studio. The computer setup and artwork all around that work area were even better than what he had on display in the living room.
“How can you make all of this beautiful art and not show the world?” Emma asked from the threshold to the kitchen.
“I can show you, if you like.” He signed the last page and handed her the documents back. “Here, look.” He opened up a tab on his computer. “Check this out.” He pointed to the image previews of even more astonishing pieces stored digitally. “I couldn’t handle the manual labor of painting, so I began digital work instead. My canvas is bigger, and I can get as detailed as I like.”
“Have you shown these to anyone? They’re incredible!” Emma expressed her amazement.
“Everyone that walks through that door.” He laughed. “I show everyone my art, actually. I just don’t sell them.”
“I think you should, I know that people will buy these,” Emma confidently suggested.
“Everyone says that, too!” They both laughed. When Emma sniffed and wiped her nose, he frowned. “Maybe it’s not an allergy? I did change, I promise!”
“I mean, I guess it could be a cold. My head was a bit foggy earlier.” Emma considered the possibility.
“A cold makes sense.” George agreed. “Hey, if you want, I have chicken soup!”
“Oh, no. That’s alright. I’ll tough it out if it is a cold,” Emma said. “What would you say if I told you I would buy that piece, ‘Family,’ I saw?”
“I’d say I appreciate the offer, and I’m glad you like it, but it’s not for sale,” George stated solidly.
“That’s a shame. You wouldn’t sell it for any amount that I would offer?” Emma liked the piece, but she would only really buy it if the price was low enough.
George sat silent, thinking for a moment. “I don’t think I could, no.”
“That’s a real shame. You have so much potential with your skills! I’ve never seen art like this before. How did your aunt not approve of this?”
George’s jaw tightened and his smile slipped from his face. His gaze darted to the left.
“She was a real stickler for the family business. She’s also the reason you see all that computer garbage out here. Apparently, my apartment is a storage facility for the company. Since she paid the rent, she believed she could do with the place what she wanted.” George grew agitated but took a deep breath and switched gears. “Let me show you some of my recent work. Everything you’ve seen so far was last years’ works.” He clicked through a few folders on the computer. Emma brushed her nose to try and get rid of the itch. “Check this out!”
On the screen was a scrolling array of photos, dozens of photos. They were just snapshots of larger images, but the crisp details, colors, subjects and styles were beyond belief. George could draw everything, real or imagined. Some of the pictures were so real in appearance, that Emma didn’t believe he drew them. There were people and scenery, as well as architecture and buildings.
“These are all so amazing, George!” Emma knew the extent of his talent before, but the new works were next level. They were the art of the next generation.
“So, Emma?” George continued to look at the screen but his cheeks reddened. “I’m not really good at the whole social thing, so I’m just going to come out and ask. Would you like to be my valentine?”
She blushed, and blinked hard. “Oh, George. I’m sorry, but I’ve already made plans. Thank you for asking, though. It means a lot.” Instinctively, Emma brought her thumb to her mouth and started nibbling on her nail. The worn-out nail was satisfying her anxiety over being asked by this strange guy, whom she’d only just met hours before, to be his valentine. It was too much.
Emma was nervous, hopefully not obviously nervous, as she stepped backward. What was she doing alone in a house with a strange man? She went through the checklist in her head. Did anyone know she was here? Not really. Maybe Denise, but not really.
“Really though, I appreciate you showing me your artwork. You’re super talented! But I need to get back to the hospital to deliver these documents before they assume he’s abandoned and send Julius to the shelter. I appreciate everything!” She held the papers close to her chest and rushed over to the door where he saw her out. She wasn’t listening when he said goodbye. The brisk walking pace to her car caused a slight slip from the shoe with the gum on it. George had already closed the door and didn’t see. He’d turned cold once she’d turned him down. Maybe she’d hurt his feelings.
She couldn’t breathe freely again until she was sitting in the driver’s seat of her SUV. Instinctively, she locked the doors and took deep breaths. What a weirdo. He likes you. Why would he ask you out like that? Is he lonely? Dismissing her anxious thoughts, Emma slipped off her shoe to clean the gum permanently. The dog bag in the backseat had some moist wipes which Emma grabbed.
As she began cleaning the shoe, the same tiny pebbles from the house were popping off of the bottom of her shoe. Her nose started itching and the teary eyes returned immediately upon smelling the scented rocks. Then everything fell into place in her mind.
Her heart lurched in her chest.
Chapter Six
“Dad, listen, I know you have a habit of not believing me, but I don’t think Mrs. Van Horn died of a sudden heart attack.” Emma’s bursting excitement exhilarated her while she spoke on the cell with her dad.
“Sweetie, slow down. You know I can’t hear through these phones very well,” her father said.
“Okay. Okay. I’m sorry. I’ll try to contain myself. Look, remember the cat? Julius?” Emma started rushing her words again and caught her breath.
“Yea. What about it? Are you still having an allergic reaction?”
“No, I’m fine. I mean, yes.” She took a breath, sniffling. “But that’s not the point. My allergies are what solved the case!”
“I don’t understand, honey. You’re going to have to lay it all out for me.”
“Do you remember at the house when we were chasing the cat around?”
“I can’t say I do, no.”
“Right, okay. Well, while you and Colby were out front we had to chase Julius around the house.” She continued sitting in her SUV, while watching the front of George’s townhouse. She was afraid he might check on her through the curtain but to her relief, it never moved.
“Okay.” He paused to let her continue.
“Well, when we got into the kitchen, there were some flowers on the table. And they were wilting. Remember I told you?”
“Right, that’s what you said when you came out of the house.”
“And Colby said that maybe they weren’t watered. But then I brought up the chocolates?”
“Right, and the idea was maybe they weren’t delivered in the best condition. It’s all plain, sweetheart,” her father said, but his tone said she was tiring him.
“No, it’s not! Listen, this is what I’m trying to say. I think George is some kind of hacker or something, I don’t know. But I don’t think I’m allergic to the cat. I think I’m allergic to the litter from the litterbox.” Emma exhausted her breath speaking so fast.
“Really? That’s an interesting discovery.” He had started sounding condescending now.
“Dad, no, wait. I mean that I think George hacked into the house somehow. He changed the temperature i
n the house to sweltering hot. Then cooled it back down again. His aunt has a heart condition. It’s why the chocolates were melted and the flowers wilted. The only thing that didn’t make sense was Julius. Julius would have died too, if he had been in the house. But he wasn’t in the house. He was at George’s. There’s litter at his house. He doesn’t have a cat.”
“That’s a compelling argument, honey, but I don’t think it’s enough for a warrant.”
“But if you get a warrant and search his computer, I’m sure you can find solid evidence for conviction. I’m telling you, Dad, I saw the same litter at the house as in the townhome. I’m sitting in the parking lot in front of his house right now. And my allergies wouldn’t lie!”
“Okay, it couldn’t hurt to pass it through the judge. Hang tight, and get out of that parking lot until we get there, okay?”
“Okay, dad. I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetie.”
Emma moved her car away from the row of townhomes just out of sight of George. Maybe I spent too long in front of his house. Does he know that I know? She had to calm herself. Molly would have been a huge help to her anxiety in that moment but Molly was still at the vet. She definitely needed to look into making Molly a therapy dog. The Saint Bernard puppy was already providing her with all kinds of therapy relief.
Breathe in. Emma told herself and took a deep breath. Breathe out. She exhaled.
Breathe in. Emma told herself again and took another deep breath. Breathe out. She exhaled. Her thumb nail found its way to her mouth again, slowly being whittled away by her teeth. This is taking too long.
The phone ringing startled her and she almost knocked the SUV into drive. Her dad was calling.
“Hello?” Emma answered.
“Em? Hi honey. Everything’s all set. We’re having two units sent to the complex now, Colby and I will be in one of the cars. Just sit tight.”
“Okay. Don’t worry, I’m not moving.”
“Atta girl. Just stay where you are, and don’t go back into the townhouse.”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” She laughed.
“I love you, and good work. I’m proud of you!”
“Thanks Dad, I love you.”
Chapter Seven
Colby and the Sheriff arrived first on the scene. Emma flagged them down and together they headed up to the apartment door. George greeted them at the door, his face a mask of confusion. His eyes darted toward Emma and then the two officers. “What’s this about?”
The Sheriff cleared his throat and presented the search warrant. “We have a warrant to search your town home, Mr. Van Horn.”
George paled and blinked several times, his brow suddenly growing clammy. “I don’t understand. Why?”
“Allow us inside, Mr. Van Horn, if you please, and we’ll explain.”
Shocked, George stepped to the side and allowed the three of them entry. Confusion clouded his features as he closed the door behind them and stood in the foyer to hear her father speak.
“My daughter, Emma here, is somewhat of an amateur detective. Her allergies are what led us to suspect your involvement in Mrs. Van Horn’s death.”
George blinked again and then he laughed. His gaze slid past Emma’s as though avoiding hers. He headed toward the kitchen. “I think I need a drink. Anyone else need anything?”
They all politely declined. Colby surveyed the apartment with his hands in his pockets, while Emma followed the Sheriff toward the kitchen.
“So, you’re saying that your daughter had an allergic reaction in my house and somehow that means I killed my aunt? Sounds a bit crazy if you ask me. Are you sure your daughter doesn’t need to see a therapist.” His eyes danced with mirth as he took a sip from the soda can he just popped open.
A pinprick of hurt sliced through Emma’s chest. Emotionally, she wanted to lash out and defend herself but she needed to be rational. He was a murder, she was certain. And right now, he was deflecting. If he could convince everyone that she was crazy in her accusation, he would get away with murder. She tilted her head. “If you don’t have a cat, why do you have kitty litter in your apartment?”
He coughed as he choked a bit on his soda. “What are you talking about?”
The sheriff stepped forward. “Do you have any cats, sir?”
“No, Sheriff. I don’t own any cats. But I did change clothes when Emma was here earlier. We thought and agreed together that maybe the cat hairs on my clothes were the issue causing her allergies.”
“Right, I understand that. But did you have kitty litter on your clothes?”
“No. I don’t think so.” George looked down around the floor near his chair.
“Honey, would you care to explain?” the Sheriff asked Emma.
“Gladly. So, when we were at your aunt’s house, I saw the litter box in the foyer. It was strange, but not something I would have thought to be an issue. What didn’t add up was the spilled litter next to the box. I initially thought the cat may have just made a mess and it hadn’t been cleaned up since Mrs. Van Horn had already succumbed,” Emma explained.
“That doesn’t explain why we’re in my apartment right now,” George smugly suggested.
“I was getting to that. When I took the cat to the vet, my allergies were just as bad as they were at your aunt’s mansion. They started to clear up once I deposited the cat, so I didn’t think much of it.” She took a breath. “When I came to your apartment, my allergies had been dormant until I got inside. You suggested it was the cat hair and I bought into the idea. Unfortunately, you forgot something.”
“My underwear?” George tried to joke, but not even he laughed.
“The kitty litter. Obviously used kitty litter has cat remnants, which could also spark an allergic reaction, which it did for me. You then suggested I might have a cold. You had me convinced. It wasn’t until I got in my car that I realized I had kitty litter stick to my shoe. My reaction flared up again.”
“I don’t understand. Couldn’t you have gotten the litter on your shoe from my Aunt’s house?” George glared at Emma trying to back her into a corner with that question.
Colby perked up and even the Sheriff held his breath. “Not possible. I changed my shoes at the vet. I was wearing heels earlier. When I arrived at your apartment, there’s no other way for me to have gotten kitty litter on them, especially since the gum outside caused it to stick to my shoe.”
“But that doesn’t prove anything. Maybe there’s kitty litter outside?” George rebutted.
“Could be. But I know there’s litter here in the house.” Emma pointed to the corner of the room. Colby immediately went over to look.
“I can confirm, we have little rocks,” Colby said from his kneeling position in the corner.
“You brought the cat home last night, hacked the security system, cranked up the heat and killed your Aunt.”
“No way. Her symptoms showed she died of a heart attack. Ask the Sheriff.”
“It was a heart attack, sweetie. The Medical Examiner confirmed it.”
“See?” George looked smug.
“Then explain the dead flowers and the melted chocolates, George.”
George blinked but the shocked look on his face faded instantly into disinterest. “The chocolates melted? What chocolates?”
“Yes, the chocolates melted. The chocolates the shareholders sent to your aunt yesterday. I took a look in the box because I wanted one. The whole tray had melted into a solid piece.” Emma argued. “You cranked up the temperature. The computer technician will be here shortly to check your computer for evidence.”
His face tensed and he glared at the soda can in his hands.
Emma continued, “The overwhelming heat caused your aunt’s heart attack after you left. It must have been on a while, at least three or four hours, because she lost a lot of water weight. More than normal. She probably had a heart attack due to the dehydration. Or maybe it was the sudden temperature change when you cooled the house b
ack down. But you saved the cat. You hated your aunt, but you’re not a bad guy, are you, George? You still saved the cat because you didn’t want to see someone innocent die.”
George’s face twitched. His jaw clenched and unclenched. “My aunt wasn’t innocent. She was a monster. She treated me like garbage. I wasn’t sure that hacking into the system would kill her. I just wanted her to suffer a little bit.”
“But you had to know that she might die.”
He shrugged. “She might get sick, she might die. Either way was fine with me.”
“Mr. Van Horn, I’m placing you under arrest for the premeditated murder of Mrs. Van Horn.” The Sheriff continued to read off George’s rights and began to handcuff the poor guy.
“You see that flash drive there?” George asked and Colby went for it. “It’s got the hack I used to break the system. Don’t let that out of your sight. It’s my whole family’s livelihood.”
“The fact that it exists will be public record, Mr. Van Horn, but the contents can remain confidential. Don’t worry, it’s safe,” Colby said.
“I don’t want to hurt the business. This was personal between me and my Aunt.”
“Because she hated your artwork?” Emma asked.
“Because she never believed in me at all. She resented me because I rejected the family business,” George said with a sad smile. The Sheriff hauled him off to his patrol car.
As they were starting out the doorway to follow her dad, Colby turned to Emma, and looked deep into her eyes. Her heart raced in her chest. It was as though he was really seeing her as something other than a fourteen-year-old kid for the first time. “Emma, I don’t know what to say. You’re like a modern Sherlock Holmes.”
Emma laughed, casting her glance down to hide the blush. “I don’t think I’m Sherlock. Not yet anyway.”
“Really, that was amazing detective work. Why haven’t you joined the force?” Colby asked.
She shrugged one shoulder. “I like animals. They’re comforting. There’s just something about them that I enjoy more.”