Relief waved over her when she finally parked in front of the pair of candy-colored matching Victorians, one the Broussards’ home, the other their B&B. She pulled the parking brake and took a moment to roll the tension out of her shoulders. But the ache in her heart, that wasn’t so easy to release.
Finally, she pushed out of the truck and made what felt like a gangplank walk up the path to the front door.
She pressed the doorbell and waited. As heavy footsteps came closer to the door, her heart seemed to inch into her airway.
The door swung open, and there stood Dr. Broussard. Lil was always struck by how handsome he was—dark hair with a little silver over his left ear, a perfect smile, and the hands of a pianist. “Mrs. Fairview. So nice to see you after you’ve been gone so long. How was your trip?”
“Oh, it was…fine,” she said lamely. She needed to practice a response to that question. No doubt, she’d be hearing it frequently. “But I’m surprised to catch you home in the middle of the day.”
“No office hours on Saturday anymore. Didn’t you get the postcard my clinic sent out?”
“Um…yes, but it totally slipped my mind.” Phooey. So many things had happened while she was away. “I…you…is Angelina at home?”
“Matter of fact, she is. Let me get her for you. Won’t you come in?”
She’d rather not. She’d rather turn and run than talk to Angelina while her husband was there. Did he know about Angelina’s blackmail? Doubtful. He was such a kind man. Summer Shoals had been so fortunate to get a big city doctor like him to take over old Doc Wilson’s practice after he died.
“In fact, would you like to join us for lunch?” He smiled, his white teeth almost twinkling, and Lil could see why Angelina would want to give him such a special gift. If only that gift weren’t Lil’s car. “Angelina made my mother’s meatloaf recipe. It makes the best sandwiches around.”
“No,” she blurted, too quick and too loud. After the junk they passed off as meatloaf in prison, she couldn’t eat it again if it were the last food available. There couldn’t have been a speck of real meat in the prison loaf. “I’ve already eaten. You know, perhaps another time would be better.”
Angelina stepped into the hall. “Who’s at the…oh, Lillian, what a nice surprise.” The honey dripping from Angelina’s mouth didn’t sound like the woman Lil knew, but the sparkles on her shirt were a dead giveaway.
“I was just asking Ms. Fairview to stay for lunch.” Dr. Broussard turned his smile on his wife, and Angelina snuggled up to his side.
“What a lovely idea,” Angelina said, her voice all soft and sweet. “You will join us, won’t you?”
Who was this woman and what had she done with the Angelina who’d given Lil so much grief since the Broussards moved to town a few years ago?
“Thank you, but I really can’t stay.”
“I totally understand,” Angelina said, then batted her eyelashes at her husband. “Honey, go on and get your lunch while it’s still hot. I’ll be right there.”
“If you’re sure.”
“Only the best for you.” She squeezed his arm as a high school cheerleader might hang on to the star quarterback. Angelina was either head over heels for her husband or she was worried about something.
Could Angelina be insecure in her marriage?
Dr. Broussard gave her a peck on the cheek and said to Lil, “Don’t be a stranger.”
When he was gone, Angelina turned back to Lil with a sharp gaze and an even sharper whisper. “The car is supposed to be a surprise for him. Please tell me you didn’t blow it.”
“About that…”
Angelina’s sharp eyes gave way to a darting gaze that held an edge of panic. “I don’t have time for a sob story.”
“Angelina, is everything okay?”
“It will be fine once you hand over the car. Like I said, only the best for my husband.” There was a certain desperation to her words that pinched Lil’s heart.
“I’m sorry.” And the crazy thing was, she was halfway sorry to be the bearer of bad news when Angelina seemed so stressed about this whole exchange. “But the Tucker isn’t available right now. Maggie and the others sent it to be detailed and it won’t be back in Summer Shoals for a few days.”
“You did this on purpose. If you think procrastinating will somehow make me change my mind, you’re wrong.”
“I’m not trying to change your mind. I’m just asking for a grace period. What’s a few days between friends?”
“Friends, Lil? You’ve always believed you were better than everyone else in this town, especially me. Do you have any idea what it feels like to always be looked down on?”
As a matter of fact, she did now that she’d been in prison. But Angelina’s question hit uncomfortably close to home. Had she really come across that way before she left for Walter Stiles? Her heart sank. Maybe that was why Angelina had taken such an immediate dislike to her when she and her family arrived in Summer Shoals. “I never meant to make you feel like you’re not worthy. You’re a lovely woman, but perhaps sometimes you come on a little too strong.”
“Not all of us are born with the Summer family sterling silver in our mouths. Some of us have to scrap for what we want. And by God, I want that Tucker.” Angelina popped her fist against the side of her thigh hard enough to leave a bruise.
Lil winced in sympathy. This was a woman on the edge. And whether it was greed or insecurity, Lil wasn’t sure.
“Do you really know what your friends have been up to while you’ve been away, Lillian?”
Something about Angelina’s tone chilled Lil’s skin. “What do you mean?”
“You’re so worried about your secrets, you’ve turned a blind eye, and they’ve been running amuck all over this county like some kind of geriatric caped crusaders.”
Now, wait a darned minute. Geriatric made them sound as if they each had a foot in the grave.
“Come with me,” Angelina demanded and waved Lil into a formal living area featuring a beautiful bay window overlooking her expansive backyard. Pointing to an area near the fence, Angelina said, “Do you have any idea what used to be there?”
“A flowerbed?”
“Not just a flowerbed, but a collection of very rare Hooligan hybrid roses. Each bush costs over $250 to import from a tiny village in Turkey. Tell me, do you see any bushes out there?”
“No?” Lil said tentatively, but who needed Turkish roses in her garden? “It looks quite nice wide open.”
“Precisely. Wide open and bare. Which it wasn’t before your friends created havoc here. It’s a barren wasteland because the women you left in charge of Summer Haven drove a golf cart like they were a NASCAR team and killed every last one of my roses. Because they felt it was their responsibility to capture an alleged criminal. At the end of the Halloween event, my yard looked like a band of wild bears had thrown a frat party in it. I promptly sent Maggie a bill for reparations.”
The word reparations made Lil even colder. She was already in debt to her eyeballs to the federal government for the money she’d borrowed from Social Security. “How…how much?”
“Five thousand.”
Holy hotdogs.
“So if you’ve been thinking of backing out on our deal, you might want to reconsider. Because not only will I let your sordid secret leak, but I’ll also tell people how you don’t pay your debts. And I’ll slap you with a judgment for that amount. I’m tired of playing nice guy.”
If this was playing nice, Lil had better work fast.
Chapter 20
Sera contemplated the status of Colton’s case as she sat on Summer Haven’s wooden front porch. She inhaled and lifted through the top of the sternum, then exhaled with a twist to her right. “I think we need to move in on Murphy Blackwood.”
“Shh.” Maggie glanced over her shoulder at the front door. “We don’t need Lil overhearing this conversation.”
“Ridiculous to have to tiptoe around her,” Abby Ruth snapped.
Sera took in another deep breath and let it out slowly.
Maggie pointed toward the driveway. “Looks like we’ve got company.”
Colton Ellerbee pulled right up near the front porch. Did the guy have no regard for landscaping at all?
When he got out of his car, the look on his face—thin-lipped and tight—made Sera’s butt-muscles cramp. Not good when she was in the bharadvaja twist pose. He walked closer, and the deep flush on his face more than said he wasn’t happy. Good thing the man wasn’t overweight because carrying extra pounds might push him right over the edge into a coronary. That was all they needed. A dead artist composting in the garden.
Sera put on a reassuring smile and rose. “Hi, there. We were just discussing the sculpture, and you’ll be glad to know we have an excellent lead.” They would solve this forgery case just like they had the ones before it. She was sure they had the right suspect. Now all they needed was to figure out where the teacher was making the forgeries so they could prove it.
“Don’t bother,” he said. “I know exactly who’s forging my work.”
“Oh.” Disappointment threaded through Sera. Would that mean the chase was over?
“And the sheriff will be here any minute.”
That had an ominous sound to it.
“That’s great news.” Maggie got up and headed for the door. “I think this calls for some special iced tea. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” The panic in her eyes told Sera she was more worried about Lil overhearing this conversation than she was about being hospitable.
“Why don’t you sit?” Sera invited Colton.
“I’ll stand.”
Oookay.
Colton shoved a sheet of printer paper into Sera’s hands. “What do you have to say about this?”
Sera reached into her pocket for her cheaters. Close-up reading had become more of a challenge lately. She popped them on her face and studied the page. It was an email to Colton. Someone was explaining they’d purchased one of his sculptures and planned to dedicate it. They were inviting him to take part in the ceremony in California. “This is near where I used to live. It’s beautiful. And this seems like a nice gesture, so why are you upset?”
He stabbed a finger at the paper, denting the middle and almost pushing it from Sera’s grasp. “It would be a nice gesture if that…that…thing in the picture was something I made.”
Abby Ruth ambled over. “Looks about like every other pile of sh—I mean, piece of your art I’ve seen.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Abby Ruth began to backpedal. “I know you’re good at what you do, else my daughter wouldn’t be representing you. But I don’t understand the thrift-store conglomeration you call a sculpture, or why someone would want one, original or fake. But no offense.”
“Oh, you would say that,” he snapped. “Because you’re the one most invested in this cover-up.”
“Excuse me?”
He pointed at the picture embedded in the email printout. “Do you see this? I sent a piece almost exactly like it to your daughter a few weeks ago. It was never out on general display. I’d say it’s becoming crystal clear who’s benefitting from the forgery of my art.”
Abby Ruth stepped into Colton’s space. “So what’s your point?”
He didn’t back down. Nope, he just stretched his spine, reminding Sera of a grizzly poked with a stick. “You approached me about finding the forger because you’re trying to cover for your own daughter.”
Maggie was already worried Lil might overhear them whispering and this conversation was getting louder by the minute, so if Sera didn’t calm down these two, no telling what would happen.
“Wait a damned minute,” Abby Ruth spit out. “Are you accusing Jenny of having something to do with this?”
“Not something. Everything,” he huffed. “In fact, she’s probably not only making inferior copies of my work, but she’s probably already sold the original and pocketed all the money.”
Abby Ruth advanced on him, getting a good handful of his sweater vest. Sera scooted between them before Abby Ruth could draw a weapon on him. Colton bleeding out on the steps would be tough to explain when Teague showed up.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sera said. “Let’s all calm down here and go to our separate corners.”
One good shove from Abby Ruth and Colton stumbled, bumping right into Maggie as she stepped out on to the porch, sending one of the tea glasses arcing off the tray and into the flower bed.
Maggie put down the tray and ran for the garden. “Now y’all just calm right down. All we need is for Lil to be upset over one more thing.”
“If you can tell us what’s going on without getting combative, you can stay.” Sera pointed Colton to one of the rocking chairs. “If not, we’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“She started it.” He jabbed a finger in Abby Ruth’s direction.
The man had a point, but still Sera waited until he was settled in the chair and said, “Now, why in the world would you think Jenny had anything to do with forging your work? We have an excellent suspect right here in Summer Shoals.”
“It’s no secret Jenny wanted to win the holiday art show more for the money than for the residency. That was one reason I took pity on her and hired her as my agent.”
By this time, Abby Ruth had wandered around behind Colton’s chair and not so accidentally elbowed him in the head. “You hired her because she’s good at her job.”
“That’s true. She was an excellent agent up until the point she decided she could make more money by imitating me than supporting my career.”
“Hogwash,” Maggie said. “That girl is as honest as her momma. And I can attest to the fact that Abby Ruth’s honesty is sometimes downright painful.”
Sera added, “You say Jenny is the only other person to see this sculpture?”
“Yes, it was supposed to be a cornerstone piece for a new series of sculptures. It’s all been very hush-hush, and we haven’t unveiled the series title. I’m creating sculptures representing the Chinese New Year calendar. 2014 was the year of the horse. Then, we have the sheep, the monkey and the rooster.” His words sped up in his excitement. “It’s quite genius, actually.”
“Very innovative,” Sera agreed.
“Jenny planned to pitch an exclusive showing to a big time Boston gallery. I was very careful, only worked on it at night. No early reviews or pictures on Facebook or the online gallery. This was going to be my big break.”
“Would you be willing to send this email to me?” Sera asked.
“I guess,” Colton said grudgingly. “And now that I’m thinking more clearly, I do need to take this to the authorities.”
Sera addressed Maggie and Abby Ruth, “There’s Teague now.” The blue lights bounced across the front of the house until Teague shut down the motor and approached the porch.
“On second thought, I don’t think he’s the one to handle this situation. That man is so crazy over Jenny there’s no way he could be objective. In fact, maybe he’s covering for her too.”
This time, Abby Ruth didn’t bother to make her whack at Colton’s head look like an accident. She jack-slapped him so hard his temple bounced against the chair’s finial. “Only a complete idiot would make an accusation like that against Teague Castro.”
The sheriff strode up the steps and said, “Who’s an idiot and what’s he accusing me of?”
In response to Teague’s question, they all started yammering at once. God help him. When dispatch had given him the message from Colton Ellerbee, they’d said he was in a state. Teague shifted his gaze around the porch. First Abby Ruth, then Sera. Maggie, then Ellerbee. The grannies all looked worried, but Ellerbee was drawn up tighter than a dehydrated prune.
Teague stuck his fingers between his teeth and let out a whistle.
The porch went silent and all eyes swept toward him.
“Whoa! Now what’s going on here?”
They all began to speak at the same time a
nd Colton looked as if he was darned near ready to blow a gasket.
“Stop. One at a time.” He stepped toward Colton. “You. Tell me what’s going on here.”
Colton sneered at Abby Ruth, never a good move. “No offense, Sheriff, but I’m not sure you’re the right guy for this.”
“Spill it.”
“Fine. You’re not going to like it, but if you insist.” Colton glared at Abby Ruth, then stabbed a finger in her direction. “She and her daughter are in cahoots. Forging my art.”
“Abby Ruth Cady is a lot of things, but artistic isn’t one of them.”
“I believe she had a major hand in trying to pass off a barbaric-looking replica of my nativity scene’s Jesus at one point. Am I right?”
Abby Ruth shrugged.
“Well,” Colton said, “I think she took a liking to the whole creative process and here we are.”
Colton had a point. Abby Ruth’s choices hadn’t been artistic, but the way she’d pieced that sculpture together had been pretty impressive. That being said, her talent ran more toward assembling guns. If Colton was accusing her of building AR15s, Teague could see it as a possibility. But animal sculptures? Not likely.
“She’s a forger, and her daughter is moving the goods. These women have supposedly been looking into the whole mess, but now it’s clear they’ve been trying to keep me off their tracks while they forge and move more pieces. Cashing in on my fame.”
Fame was stretching it, but no one deserved to have their art forged. Regardless Teague knew darned well Abby Ruth and Jenny weren’t in on it.
Sera sidled up next to Teague. “We have not been duping Colton. We’ve been trying to help. Even have good leads, which we were trying to tell him about. Abby Ruth would never do anything like that.”
“You know that’s horse hockey, Teague. If I was going to steal or forge something, it damn sure wouldn’t be that junk.”
“Not helping, Aunt Bibi,” Teague said.
In High Cotton Page 17