Fatal Brushstroke (An Aurora Anderson Mystery Book 1)

by Sybil Johnson

  When Rory walked onto the sales floor, her mother and Liz were already there setting up an easel with a poster-sized picture of Hester next to the front door. Once that was in place, Arika divvied up the remaining tasks and the three of them spread out throughout the store. While Liz put together the raffle supplies and Arika double-checked the setup in the classroom, Rory finished up the refreshment table in the sitting area near the back of the sales floor. On a tray she arranged the bagels and mini-muffins her mother had picked up at the local big-box store, then started the coffee brewing in a large urn. Finally, she filled a Styrofoam cooler with ice and bottles of water and shoved it under the table.

  As soon as the refreshments were arranged to her mother’s satisfaction, Rory set up a portable DVD player on a shelf in sight of the cashier, placing copies of an instructional video Hester had made not long before her death next to the player. Once the opening ceremonies were over, the video would play on a continuous loop. Arika had ordered extra copies of the DVD, expecting it to be a popular item.

  At a quarter to nine, Rory glanced outside where a well-mannered line was beginning to form. Smiling women, many sporting T-shirts and blouses painted with colorful designs, greeted each other, talking excitedly while they waited for the event to begin. By the time nine o’clock rolled around, the line stretched down the block as far as the eye could see. After a final check to make sure everything was in place, Arika unlocked the front door and the crowd streamed inside.

  First in the door was one of the store’s most frequent customers followed by Veronica, wearing yoga pants and a midriff top. She’d traded in her belly button ring for a diamond nose stud. Rory shuddered to think what other body parts the young woman had thought to pierce.

  Arika greeted each person who came inside, and Liz stood nearby to answer questions. Armed with a roll of raffle tickets and a waist pack full of change, Rory roamed the floor, catching an occasional whiff of perfume or scented soap while she sold tickets and handed out programs.

  About twenty minutes after they opened, Detective Green entered the store, the only man so far brave enough to venture inside, looking more like a man headed for a round of golf than one who investigated crime.

  “If you’ve come to arrest me could you wait until the end of the day? My mother needs me here,” Rory said to him.

  “Why do you think I’m going to arrest anyone?”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I’ve come to enjoy the event like everyone else.”

  As far as she could tell, the detective’s investigation into both murders had stalled. Rory suspected he was there more in the hopes he’d pick up tidbits of information that might lead to a new line of questioning than to immerse himself in the world of decorative painting. But, she didn’t care why he’d decided to attend. She’d give him the same spiel she’d given everyone else. “Refreshments are that way.” She pointed toward the back of the sales floor and handed him a program. “Here’s the schedule of events. There are drawings and demonstrations throughout the day. Times are listed on the inside.”

  “Thanks.” Detective Green looked over the schedule, appearing more interested than Rory had expected.

  She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Hester’s husband should be here soon to give the opening remarks. Also, we’re having a raffle. First drawing is at ten. All proceeds go to Hester’s favorite children’s charity. Details are on the last page next to her bio.”

  The detective glanced at the back of the program. “What’s the prize?”

  “You can choose any one of the pieces in that bookcase. Hester painted them all.” She pointed to the display she’d put together the previous day. “How many tickets would you like? Only a dollar apiece. It’s going to a good cause.”

  “Always willing to help the kids. What’s the usual contribution?”

  “I’ve sold everything from a single ticket to ten. Whatever you’re able to give.”

  “Ten it is, then.” Detective Green pulled what appeared to be the last bill out of his wallet.

  Rory counted out the tickets from the roll around her wrist and exchanged them for the ten. “Thank you. That’s very generous. Just write your name on the back of each ticket and put them in the bowl.” She gestured toward the fishbowl on the checkout counter which, even though the doors had only recently opened, was already a quarter full.

  The man nodded his understanding but, instead of depositing his tickets, headed toward the refreshment table. No sooner had the policeman grabbed a cup of coffee than Julian walked in the door followed closely by a uniformed Chief Marshall. People clustered around the two men as soon as they stepped inside. The chief didn’t appear to be there in a professional capacity, but Rory still kept an eye on him while she continued to sell tickets and chat with customers. To her great relief, the Vista Beach police chief ignored her presence and talked with as many of the attendees as he could.

  Precisely at nine-thirty, Arika stood next to the cash register and rang a small hand bell to quiet the group. Gradually, the murmur of voices died down and everybody’s attention turned to the area where the store owner and Julian stood. After snapping a photo, Veronica pushed her way to the front and held her digital recorder at arm’s length as close to the speakers as possible without actually shoving it in their faces.

  Rory stood next to the front window display, setting her considerably diminished roll of tickets on a nearby shelf, and smiled at Liz who’d made her way through the mass of people to Rory’s side.

  From his position near the refreshment table, Detective Green sipped coffee and observed the crowd, no doubt analyzing every nuance of body language and facial expression in each attendee. When his gaze landed on Rory, they locked eyes for a moment. She felt her heart beat faster as it had when he’d interrogated her at the station. She turned away and concentrated on what her mother was saying.

  “Thank you all for coming to this event honoring one of decorative painting’s brightest stars, gone too soon,” Arika said. “Now, we’ll hear from Hester’s husband, Julian Bouquet.”

  Julian stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Before I begin, I’d like to address an issue that has only recently come to my attention. Some of you may have heard that my son, Kevin, has been involved in illegal activities around town. I’d like to apologize for his detestable behavior and assure you that his actions do not reflect the attitude of my company, H & J Security.”

  Rory and Liz looked at each other.

  “What’s he talking about?” Liz whispered. “I thought Kevin only tampered with the alarm at Surfside Deli.”

  “I have no idea.” Rory shot a quick look at the detective to see his reaction to Julian’s speech, but the policeman’s face remained as impassive as ever.

  A mixture of surprise and shock flashed across Arika’s face. Apparently, Julian hadn’t informed her of the content of his opening remarks. “I believe you had some words about Hester,” the store owner prompted when it appeared Julian had finished speaking.

  “Of course. I’d like to thank Arika Anderson for hosting this event, which I’m sure will be a fitting tribute to my late wife and her love of painting. The hobby was a part of her life for many years. I hope you all have a good time today. I’m sorry Hester’s longtime friend, Trudy Appelbaum, couldn’t be here to celebrate with you.”

  Julian stepped back, turning the floor over to Arika amid a smattering of applause. Those gathered around exchanged glances, commenting with their eyes on his speech.

  “Julian’s right. We shouldn’t forget Trudy who was also a member of our painting community for many years. She was looking forward to this event along with everyone else,” Arika said.

  “I’m not so sure about that,” a voice Rory didn’t recognize whispered. She looked around at the sea of faces, but couldn’t pinpoint who had made the remark.


  Arika took a sip of water and continued. “I’m sure Hester met a lot of you over the course of her career. Perhaps you took a class of hers or talked to her at one of the many conventions she attended. Don’t forget to contribute to her favorite charity if you’re able. Now, if anyone else would like to say anything about Hester...?” Arika scanned the room. Several people came forward and described how their former colleague or teacher had touched their hearts over the years. After everyone who wanted to had spoken, the store owner once again thanked them all for attending and directed the students who’d signed up to paint the silk scarf to join their instructor in the classroom.

  “That was weird. Some of Julian’s comments were a bit...inappropriate,” Liz whispered, echoing Rory’s thoughts.

  Rory picked up her raffle tickets, walked over to the DVD player, and hit the PLAY button. “No kidding.”

  They both stared at Julian who stood near the front door with Arika and Chief Marshall in an impromptu receiving line. Some people slipped outside as soon as they paid their respects. Given the man’s antipathy toward decorative painting, Rory suspected Hester’s husband was dying to make a similar escape.

  “I’d better go. I promised to help Nora out.” Liz wended her way through the crowd toward the classroom.

  A group of attendees, eager to buy raffle tickets, clustered around Rory. While she handled the knot of buyers, she saw Veronica draw Julian aside for a whispered conversation. Not long after that tête-à-tête ended, he and the chief slipped out the front door.

  After the rush for tickets was over, Rory handed off raffle sales to another volunteer. She was making a pass through the store, picking up discarded cups inadvertently left on the shelves, when Arika rang the bell for the first drawing. The winner squealed with delight and, without much hesitation, plucked her prize off one of the bookcase’s shelves—a tin plate painted with a complex floral design in blues and pinks.

  On her way to the sitting area, Rory noticed Veronica standing off to one side, her attention focused on her cell phone. Probably tweeting news of the event, Rory thought. She didn’t know how many followers the young woman had, but she hoped the tweets would bring more business into the store.

  Rory deposited the trash she’d collected in the wastebasket next to the refreshment table. She was tidying up the area when Detective Green stopped by.

  After refilling his cup, he pulled a set of keys out of the front pocket of his Dockers. “These belong to the store. Can you give them to your mother for me? She seems busy.”

  Rory pocketed the keys, intending to put them back in the lost-and-found box the next time she went by the checkout counter. “I take it they didn’t fit.”

  “Afraid not. Let me know if you find any others lying around. Hester’s husband thought they might have something special attached to the key chain. Something his wife painted. He wasn’t sure what.” The detective took a sip of coffee and glanced around the store. “Nice event. Must have been a lot of work.”

  “It was. Mom and a bunch of volunteers did most of it.”

  “But you helped out?”

  “A little.” Rory pulled the drawstring on the overflowing trash bag and replaced it with a new one. “I see Kevin’s not here. What’s going on with him? Did you arrest him again?”

  The detective popped a mini-muffin in his mouth, staring at her as he chewed as if deciding how much to tell her. After he finished the muffin and before he grabbed another, he said, “He’s back in jail. He confessed.”

  “To Trudy’s murder?”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “I thought—I mean, he was in town that night, and they’d had a fight.”

  “He’s no longer a suspect.”

  “Then what did he confess to?”

  “Alarm tampering. Surfside Deli. The insurance company on Dewey Lane. Basically, all of the alarms around town, except for the vandalism here, that is.”

  The only one where someone had been injured, Rory thought. Kevin probably thought it best not to admit to the assault, hoping no evidence would come to light placing him at the store. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would he do that?”

  “He wouldn’t say.” The detective tossed his coffee cup in the trashcan and walked away, leaving her to wonder why the young man would sabotage the alarms of the company he worked for.

  Kevin must be telling the truth. Rory doubted he’d confess to something that would cause him to lose his job or land him in jail if it weren’t.

  When she returned from throwing the trash bag in the dumpster, Rory circulated through the crowd, answering questions and chatting with customers. Over at the checkout counter, Lily rang up sales and Arika bagged purchases. Every once in a while Rory intercepted a covert glance cast in her direction. She moved around the room, determined to ignore the stares.

  When laughter erupted from the classroom, Rory peeked inside where a good-natured group was listening to Nora explain the next step in the scarf project she was teaching, the same design Hester’s protégé had worn at the memorial service. Liz waved from her position near the front of the room where she was helping a student apply dye to an area of her project.

  After making sure her mother didn’t need her, Rory joined the group at the demonstration table where one of the tole painting teachers had just begun talking about Snow-Tex, a product that created dimensional effects on wood and a number of other painting surfaces.

  “With this product, you can add the look and dimension of real snow to your project,” the woman began. “It’s non-toxic and cleans up with water while it’s wet.”

  Rory tried to listen to the instructor, but had a hard time concentrating because of the whispered conversation that was going on beside her.

  “Such a handsome man, Hester’s husband. Wealthy, too,” one woman said.

  “Comes from old money, doesn’t he? At least, that’s what I heard,” another replied.

  “No. His company’s doing well with all this new business he’s been getting, but she was the one with the real money. Trust fund.”

  “So sad about Kevin. He was arrested, you know. Getting back at his father, no doubt.”

  “I hear he might have done more than just tamper with a few alarms.”

  “You mean...murder? Why would anyone think that?”

  “He was seen with Hester the night she was killed.”

  “I don’t believe it. My money’s on that woman, the one on the flyers. Even though he didn’t come out and say it, I could tell the Chief himself thinks she did it.”

  Rory could feel her face heat up. She inched away from the gossipers, making sure to keep her attention directed on the demo.

  The two fell silent until an overly excited woman ran up and, not bothering to keep her voice down, said, “Did you see? Hester’s MDA board is being raffled off.”

  The instructor paused until the three women hurried away, oblivious to the disruption they’d caused. After giving tips on using the different forms of the product, the teacher applied it with a flat brush to a Christmas tree ornament, creating the appearance of snow on the branches. “It’s also great for creating a stucco effect. Once it’s dry you can paint over it.” She brought out a small birdhouse to which she’d already applied a watered-down coat of Snow-Tex and painted part of one side a medium shade of coral. “Just remember, this product is for indoor use only.” After a few more tips (stir gently and don’t use on wearable fabrics), the short demo was over.

  Rory joined in on the applause. When Veronica pulled Arika aside to take a picture of the store owner next to the poster of Hester, Rory headed up front to see if Lily needed help at the checkout counter. On the way, she passed by Detective Green who was reading the label on a bottle of brush-on varnish. She suspected he was more interested in the conversation going on in the next aisle than in what the ba
ck of the bottle had to tell him. She wondered what he found so interesting but by the time she got close enough to hear the two women involved, they’d drifted away to other parts of the store.

  Shortly before noon, a young man wearing a cap emblazoned with the Surfside Deli logo opened the front door. While Arika signed the paperwork, Rory took charge of the order the deli employee had delivered. After Liz made room for the food, Rory set the tray of mini-sandwiches on the refreshment table and placed the bag of canned sodas on the floor.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be helping Nora with her class?” Rory asked her friend.

  “Bathroom break. I’ll go back in soon and see if she needs anything.”

  Moments later, Arika brought over another cooler and a bag of ice. Rory’s stomach clenched when she saw the distressed look on her mother’s face. “Is everything okay, Mom?”

  “Just a bit of a headache. Could you girls take care of the next drawing? I have something to do in the back.” Without waiting for a response, Arika headed toward her office.

  “I’ll take care of the drinks and the drawing,” Liz said. “Go check on your mother.”

  “Don’t you have to help Nora clean up?”

  “She can wait. Go!” Liz gently pushed her friend in the direction the store owner had taken.

  Rory passed through the classroom on the way to the office. When she opened the pocket door between the two rooms, she found her mother slumped down in a chair by the desk. Rory slid the door closed behind her, then knelt down next to the chair. “Everything okay, Mom?” she said softly.

  Arika shook her head. “Just a headache. I’ll be fine in a little while.”

  Rory studied her mother for a moment, then stood up and reached for the phone on the desk to call 9-1-1. With the attack on her mother only a few days old, she wasn’t taking any chances.

  Chapter 30

  Her stomach tied in knots, Rory lifted the receiver of the phone on the desk. A murmur of voices hinted at the buzz of activity going on beyond the closed pocket door. She’d dealt with emergency services far too many times in the last two weeks. She’d really hoped she wouldn’t have to call them again so soon.