Fatal Brushstroke (An Aurora Anderson Mystery Book 1)

by Sybil Johnson

  Arika leaned forward in her chair and reached across the desk, gently covering Rory’s hand with her own, preventing her daughter from dialing. “I’m fine. There’s no need to call anyone.”

  Rory replaced the receiver. “You should see a doctor. A headache could be a symptom of something serious. The attack was less than a week ago.”

  Before her mother could respond, they heard a soft knock followed by the sound of the pocket door sliding open. “Everything all right back here?” Detective Green poked his head around the doorway.

  “Tell her she should see a doctor,” Rory said.

  His eyes filled with concern, Detective Green entered the room, slid the door closed behind him, and sat down on the edge of the desk facing Arika. “Ma’am, is there anything I can do? I’d be happy to take you somewhere. I’m sure your daughter can handle the rest of the event.”

  The detective earned a few brownie points with his obvious concern for her mother’s well-being. Rory prayed he’d be able to convince her mom to take the headache more seriously, but her hopes were soon dashed.

  “I don’t want to be a bother,” Arika said.

  “No bother, ma’am. What’s on your mind?”

  Arika tucked a loose strand of hair back in place and continued, a bit hesitantly. “It’s just that...how do I put this?” She stared off into the distance as if searching for guidance from the posters on the wall opposite her. “Several times today I had flashbacks to...the other night.”

  “The night you were attacked?” he said.

  “I knew you came back to work too early,” Rory said.

  Arika ignored her daughter and addressed her remarks to the detective. “Yes. I suppose it’s that PTSD I’m always hearing about, but it bothers me that it’s happening now.”

  “There’s always a trigger. Was it something you saw? Or heard? Or even smelled?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Close your eyes and imagine walking through the crowd.”

  While she waited for her mother to finish her mental tour of the paint-a-thon, Rory wondered which of the attendees had sparked such a negative reaction. Up until now, she hadn’t considered the possibility her mother’s attacker would have the audacity to attend an event at the scene of the crime.

  “A smell, I think,” Arika finally said. “But I can’t pinpoint what it was.”

  Rory cast her mind back to the strange look that had appeared on her mother’s face during Julian’s short speech. Perhaps his cologne or the cigarette smell that lingered on his clothes had jogged her mother’s memory. Or maybe it was something or someone else. Several people had clustered around the podium, including Veronica who’d shoved her way to the front to get close to the action.

  Detective Green stood up. “If this happens again try to figure out what reminded you of the other night. It might help us discover who vandalized the store.”

  Rory walked the detective to the door leading into the classroom, briefly laying a hand on his arm. “Thanks.”

  He smiled and headed back to the event. Rory slid the pocket door closed behind him, then turned and asked her mother, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Arika patted her daughter on the arm. “I feel much better now. Let’s get back to work.” She headed toward the front of the store before Rory could protest any further.

  An uneasy feeling in her gut, Rory passed through the classroom where the next group of chattering students had gathered around the tables for the noontime class. As soon as Rory stepped onto the sales floor, Liz grabbed her arm and whispered, “Everything okay?”

  Rory was about to reply when she noticed Veronica hovering nearby, pretending to be engrossed in the pattern packets displayed on a circular rack. Since the packet the woman held in her hand was upside-down, Rory didn’t think Veronica was interested in it any more than Detective Green had been earlier in the varnish. Rory inclined her head toward Veronica, letting Liz know the reason for her reticence. “Tell you later.”

  Liz nodded her understanding. “I need to eat something before I give the deerfoot brush demo. I don’t want everyone to hear my stomach grumbling.”

  Ignoring Veronica who had now inched close enough she could hear even a whispered conversation, the two of them headed over to the refreshment table where they filled plates with mini-sandwiches, grabbed cans of diet soda out of the cooler, and sat down on the empty couch. A half-dozen customers milled around the store, but most of the attendees seemed either to be in the classroom or in line at the register where Jolene and Lily rang up purchases and bagged items. The scarf with the design she’d been teaching now around her shoulders, Nora stood next to the checkout counter, answering any questions her students had about the supplies they’d used in class. One glance around the store told Rory Detective Green had left.

  They’d just finished eating when Veronica stopped by the refreshment table. She helped herself to a Diet Coke and perched on the arm of the sofa next to Liz. “The paint-a-thon seems to be going well.”

  “I saw you taking pictures earlier. Are you going to post them on your blog?” Rory asked.

  “I plan on updating it tonight.” Veronica looked over at a wire rack filled with bottles of acrylic paint where Arika was helping a customer choose a color. “Everything okay with your mom? She seemed a little upset earlier.”

  Rory plastered a noncommittal expression on her face. She didn’t want to find an exaggerated account of her mother collapsing at the event in the Twitterverse or blogosphere. “She’s fine. Can’t say the same about Kevin, though.”

  “What are you talking about?” Liz asked.

  “The alarms,” Rory said.

  “We already know he sabotaged the alarm at Surfside. That’s nothing new. He was getting back at his father.” Liz tossed her empty soda can in the nearby recycling bin.

  “Not just that one. All of them around town.” Veronica fingered her nose ring as if to assure herself the diamond stud was still in place.

  “But those were all V.B. Security clients. Why would he sabotage the alarms of the company he worked for?” Liz asked.

  “I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately. He just gets so...angry. I’m afraid he did something...more permanent.” Veronica twirled the still unopened soda can between the palms of her hands.

  Rory deposited her empty plate in the nearby trash can. “Like murder? The police don’t seem to be interested in him for either case. At least, that’s what I gathered when I was talking to Detective Green earlier.”

  Veronica looked around to make sure no one was within hearing distance, then leaned forward. “They shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him as a suspect.”

  “What do you know?” Rory asked.

  Veronica stared down at the floor as if deciding where to begin. “Things haven’t been going well between us for a while now. He dated other women just so his mother wouldn’t think we were still together. She thought I wasn’t good enough for him. Translation, I have no money or connections. She threatened to cut off Kevin’s trust fund if we continued seeing each other. But, well, I didn’t really believe the dates were just for show. I mean, he never stayed until morning, so...”

  “When he left in the middle of the night you followed him?” Rory said.

  Veronica nodded. “I had no choice. I knew he was lying to me about something.”

  Liz and Rory waited to hear more, silently encouraging the young woman to continue. Finally, Veronica said, “The night Hester died, I saw him with her heading toward the condo she and Julian own on Mobley.”

  Rory and Liz looked at each other.

  “That’s not far from here. What time was this?” Rory asked.

  “Around midnight. They were arguing, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying.”

  “What happened next?”


  “They went inside the gate. I waited around for a while, but decided there was nothing else to see so I went home.”

  “So, Kevin could have killed his mother in the condo. Didn’t the police search it?”

  “From what I heard, they only searched the condo itself. That complex has a pool as well as activity and exercise rooms. I doubt the police checked everywhere,” Liz said.

  Veronica shook her head. “I don’t like to think he’d kill her, but he counts on that trust fund.”

  “He has a job.”

  “He doesn’t make that much, not enough for his preferred lifestyle, anyway.” Veronica placed the unopened can on the coffee table and stood up. “Thanks for listening. I feel better already. I’m heading out. I’ll be back later on to see who wins the grand prize drawing.”

  She slung her tote bag over her shoulder and made a beeline for the front door.

  After she was out of earshot, Liz turned to Rory and said, “Do you really think Kevin’s a killer?”

  Rory considered the question for a moment, wondering if his issues with either of his two “mothers” were motive enough for murder. “I don’t know. He has quite a temper.”

  “At least we know where Hester was for part of the time after her class. I wonder why Julian didn’t mention she was at the condo.”

  “Probably didn’t see her. We don’t know exactly what time he left Trudy’s. Hester might have gone there to get spare keys for her car and left after she found them but before he returned home.”

  Liz consulted the calendar on her phone. “There’s an open house at the condo complex tomorrow. I’ve been meaning to check out the unit, anyway. We should go.”

  Rory nodded her head in agreement. Maybe they’d find evidence she’d been killed somewhere the police hadn’t thought to look.

  The two of them sat silently, side by side on the couch, each thinking their own thoughts. In less than five minutes, Rory came up with a number of plausible scenarios in her mind. Julian could have killed Hester, then killed Trudy because she guessed what he’d done and threatened to expose him to the police. Or Trudy could have killed Hester and Julian killed Trudy in retaliation. Or Kevin could have killed his mother in a dispute over money and killed Trudy in a rage because she’d been lying to him all these years. Or Veronica could have been the one who killed Hester because she wanted her son to marry someone wealthier or more connected. They only had Veronica’s word that Kevin was with his mother that night. She could be lying. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  Rory mentally threw up her hands. Her head ached thinking of all the possibilities. “We could spend all day talking about everyone’s motives, but you’ve got that demo soon.”

  Liz glanced at her watch. “Oh, shoot. I didn’t realize it was so late. I’m not ready yet.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I don’t know why I agreed to do this.”

  “You’ll do fine. It’s your first demo. You’re bound to be a little nervous. We’ve got time. Tell me what you have planned.”

  “I thought I’d talk a little about the brush itself, how to load it, best used dry, pouncing technique—that sort of thing. Then I’m going to move on to the actual demonstration.” Liz reached behind the sofa and pulled out an eight-by-ten piece of poster board with two designs on it: Santa’s face and a house. “I’ll stipple fur on Santa’s cap and add foliage in front of the house. Do you think that’s enough?”

  Rory nodded her approval. “Sounds great. The demo’s only supposed to be ten minutes or so, anyway. I’m sure people will have questions. Did you ask Nora for demo tips?”

  “She helped me work it all out. I’d better go and get ready.” Liz stood up and looked around the store. “I don’t see many people here. What if no one comes?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be there. I’ll see who else I can round up.”

  After the two friends split up, Rory moved around the store, reminding as many people as she could of the upcoming demonstration. In no time, she’d sent half a dozen women to the demo area. After checking in with her mother, Rory headed over herself.

  At first, Liz’s voice was a little shaky, but her nervousness soon vanished. The women who were clustered around the table asked questions as Liz built up the fur on the cap and the foliage in front of the house. Nora hovered in the background, acting a bit like a nervous parent whose child was on her own for the first time.

  After the presentation was over and all the questions had been answered, Nora walked up to Liz and said, “Good job. No one would ever know that was your first demo.”

  Liz’s face dimpled with pleasure at the praise from the more experienced painter.

  “I heard a lot of people talking about how much they enjoyed your class this morning,” Rory said to Nora.

  “We had a good time. Got quite a few new decorative painting converts.” The painting teacher glanced around the store. “I saw Veronica was covering the event. Is she still here?”

  “She’ll be back later,” Rory said.

  “Your mother should be careful around her. I don’t trust her.” Nora pushed her glasses up on her nose.

  “What makes you say that?” Rory asked.

  “Let’s just say, the truth isn’t her best friend.”

  “I heard some people talking about an informal get-together in honor of Trudy,” Liz said.

  “That’s right. She didn’t want a formal memorial service. We’re all meeting at Baxter’s, the bar around the corner, Tuesday night at six p.m. Spread the word.” Nora smiled at a woman who hovered nearby, waiting for a word with her painting instructor. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

  While Nora talked with her student, Rory whispered to Liz, “Why do you suppose the memorial for Trudy isn’t at Main Street Squeeze?”

  “No liquor license. Can’t have a wake without booze,” Liz whispered back.

  Moments later, Nora returned to speak with the two young women. “I’m doing a short tutorial on brush lettering as part of my six o’clock class. You’re both welcome to sit in.”

  Too embarrassed to admit she hadn’t yet started work on Samantha’s present, Rory said, “Thanks, but I finished that project the other day. Did the touch-ups, flocked the back, and painted her name on it. It’s on its way to Samantha right now.” She crossed her fingers behind her back and prayed karma wouldn’t bite her in the butt for the lie.

  After a little more small talk, the three of them went their separate ways. Rory was exiting the bathroom when she heard her name mentioned. She ducked down behind a display of wood pieces and listened to the conversation going on in the next aisle.

  “Are you sure?” A woman whose voice Rory recognized as one of her mother’s longtime customers, said.

  “Gilbert saw her leaving the station last night. I don’t know why the police didn’t hold her,” an unfamiliar voice replied.

  “You remember that fire in the doctor’s office twenty odd years ago, don’t you? That nurse didn’t make it out alive.”

  Rory felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. She might not know much about her birth parents but, in the last year or so, she’d heard about the fires they’d set and many of the people they’d harmed.

  “Such a waste. She left behind a young daughter, too,” the unfamiliar voice continued.

  “A lovely girl. Followed in her mother’s footsteps, you know.”

  “Like mother, like daughter. Maybe the same goes for Aurora and her mother. You saw that flyer, didn’t you?”

  “Better not let Arika hear you say that.” The two women moved away and left Rory staring with unseeing eyes at the shelf in front of her, trying to digest the conversation she’d just overheard.

  “Everything okay?” Liz asked.

  Rory stood up and turned to face her friend who’d silently appeared in the aisle next to her. “I
just heard a disturbing conversation.”

  “What about?”

  “A fire my birth parents set, the one at the doctor’s office.”

  “That was ages ago. Why would anyone be talking about that now?”

  “Some people seem to think it’s relevant. That I’m like her.”

  “Your birth mother? Is that what they said? Morons.” Liz wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Ignore them. You can’t control what they say.”

  “I should see if Mom needs me to do anything.” Rory took a step toward the cash register where her mother was working.

  Liz grabbed her friend’s arm. “Listen, just because you share some DNA, that doesn’t mean you’re alike. You know you’re not responsible for anything they did, don’t you?”

  “Tell that to those two women.”

  After taking a few deep breaths, Rory gave herself a quick pep talk and went back to work. She was too busy the rest of the day to worry about what people were saying about her. At one point, she even waited on the customers who’d gossiped about the fire. They were all smiles and gave no indication they’d been talking about her. If Rory hadn’t overheard the unsettling conversation, she would never have guessed they considered her unstable.

  Right before the final class was to begin, Rory helped her mother with the grand prize drawing. She thought the woman who won the arched sign board was going to faint she was so excited about winning. By the time Arika’s Scrap ’n Paint finally closed at eight that night, everyone was exhausted. Arika tallied up the sales from the day and declared herself more than pleased with the results.

  The sun had long set by the time they finished cleaning up the store and prepping the sales floor for business on Monday. After a late dinner at her mother’s house, Rory drove home shortly before eleven, happy to be only minutes away from a comfortable bed.