by Sandi Scott
“The next thing I know, Graphic Novel News is praising the new up-and-coming graphic novelist Cole Ness and his creation, Nuclear Wolf.”
“I’m sure it seems like Cole stole your idea, but maybe it’s just some hurt feelings on your part?” Georgie felt like she was poking a hornet’s nest, so she hurriedly added, “I’m not implying he didn’t do what you are saying; I’m just an outsider looking in after all.”
“Well, I can assure you that is exactly what he did because he pitched my female heroine thatI hadn’t spoken about to him at all! I’m sure you’ve heard of Black Pine.”
Georgie raised her eyebrows helplessly. She hadn’t heard of more than half the characters that were being featured at Wizard-Hero-Con. It wasn’t surprising she had never heard of the Black Pine, but that didn’t mean she didn’t exist. However, it was obvious her ignorance was like a slap across Malcolm’s face, making him jut out his lower jaw in frustration.
“I never told anyone about Black Pine. She was my creation for myself. She talked to me. Her adventures were private. And Cole Ness stole her away, putting her out into the world without permission. She was who got him noticed. Now she won’t even look at me. I can’t create anything that even slightly resembles her anymore.”
Georgie started feeling uncomfortable; this was getting a little weird. Malcolm was speaking emotionally about what amounted to nothing more than a drawing. Even as a fellow artist, she knew her best works that she cherished and enjoyed were nothing more than paint on canvas produced by talent on loan from God. They were not alive.
Georgie was sure of one thing—the man standing in front of her was not well. Perhaps, Cole Ness did steal his characters. Perhaps, he took his concepts and made his own graphic novels based loosely on them. Georgie couldn’t be sure. But there was no denying that Malcolm had some issues.
“Look. Just look at the way those people are carrying on.” He jerked his head toward a small group of people who appeared to be paying homage at the Nuclear Wolf booth. “Those girls should be searching me out. They should be sending me their phone numbers and photos of themselves.” He glared at Cole Ness’s fans.
Georgie took a step back as Malcolm started to become even more animated—scratching his beard, tugging at his shirt, fidgeting with his watch. He was not acting like a normal person. But Georgie was sure that the majority of people attending this event were not totally normal to begin with. But unlike Malcolm, most people here didn’t feel they had been robbed of a never-ending stream of young women and money.
“Well, if you are as talented as all that, I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before you get your work out there, Malcolm,” Georgie said in a soothing voice.
He whipped his head around and stared at her.
“Isn’t that right?” She folded her arms protectively across her chest. “You can’t let this stop you now. This is your chance to turn the tide, so to speak.”
“Turn the tide?” Malcolm started to laugh, but it wasn’t a real laugh. It was an almost hysterical cackle. Georgie felt that, even in the pavilion with a couple of thousand people around her, she was all alone. If this man wanted to suddenly go primitive on her, she’d suffer some serious blows before anyone would stop him. When she looked around, no one was even paying attention to her and Malcolm. That made her even more nervous
He stopped laughing and looked at Georgie without speaking. Instead, he smiled and nodded his head slowly up and down.
“It was nice talking to you, Georgie,” he said as if he had secretly hated her since the second she had approached him and was only now comfortable enough to reveal it. With his chin up, Malcolm started to walk toward the Nuclear Wolf display. It wasn’t until Dell looked up that he quickly changed his direction and started to go in another direction. Away from the hallway where Cole’s body had been discovered.
A shiver ran up Georgie’s spine, and she was sure that she’d just spent the last few minutes talking with Cole’s killer. He had the motive if what he said was true. Even if it wasn’t true, like the part about his character Black Pine communicating with him, he certainly thought it was. And the perception of an insult is enough for some people to seek revenge of the cruelest kind.
Smoothing out her shirt and pushing her hair back, Georgie saw Aleta was still loitering close to Dell. Taking a deep breath and desperately trying to shake off the willies, Georgie marched right up to her sister, slipped her arm through Aleta’s, and pulled her far away from the display.
“You won’t believe who I was talking to,” Georgie said breathlessly.
“Judging by your flushed cheeks, my first guess would be Paul Newman, but he’s dead.”
“This is no time to joke, Aleta.” Georgie fanned herself with her hand. “I was talking to the bearded guy. From last night. The guy they had thrown out. I think he did it. I think he killed Cole Ness”
“Why do you say that?” Aleta asked, nervously looking around.
Within two minutes, Georgie had rattled off what Malcolm had said, how he said it, and why he felt so cheated by Cole Ness. “It’s a recipe for revenge, Aleta. And I think he did it.”
“It certainly sounds that way, but you sent me over there to eavesdrop on Dell, and I did. I’m wondering if it wasn’t a group project,” Aleta said. She was terribly calm, and Georgie asked her how on earth she could stay so composed.
“Well, we are in a room full of people. No one can attack us here. Plus, we are just a couple of middle-aged ladies closer to older age than anything else. Who would think we were up to something?”
“I don’t trust anyone.” Georgie looked around, suddenly finding herself sneering at the people in costumes as they passed by. “These people are weirdoes.”
“Be that as it may. Do you want to hear what I heard or not?”
“I do. But I think we should go back to the hotel. I need to be in a safer place than this. Too many eyes on us, Aleta. Too many eyes.” Georgie held her sister’s arm tightly, and they left the convention center. The fresh air and the sounds of the city brought reality back into focus for her.
Once they were back at the hotel and inside their room that had been neatly cleaned by room service, Georgie let out a long, deep sigh and sat on the bed.
“Feel better?” Aleta asked.
“I do. I think I was just having a bit of a sensory overload. That poor Malcolm was talking like a crazy person. He doesn’t know that I’m an artist too. I know how it feels to create something from nothing. But he was just eaten up over Cole Ness’s success. If what he said was true, I feel for him. But if he took matters into his own hands and bludgeoned the guy to death, well, sympathy only goes so far.”
Aleta opened one of the bottles of complimentary water and handed it to Georgie who took a long drink.
“Okay. Tell me what you heard,” she said, handing the bottle back to Aleta who too took a long sip before telling Georgie what she’d overheard.
As it turned out, Tabitha wasn’t just a girl that Cole knew from before he became a success. She had been his friend for a long time, but from what Aleta could hear, she was dating Dell, too.
“How can that be?” Georgie asked. “I heard her talking with him last night and it sounded like they had broken up. This morning she made it out that Cole had been fooling around on her all the time.”
“I think she was doing a little fooling around herself,” Aleta said, taking a seat on the other bed and pulling her legs up Indian style. She continued, “I heard Dell, who was just as nasty and snotty now as he was before his boss had died, tell Tabitha everything had worked out better than he’d hoped.”
“In fact, his exact words were, ‘I expected there to be a lot of publicity, but this is bigger than Lincoln being shot. We’ll be able to coast on this for a couple of years.’”
“That’s not too suspicious,” Georgie scoffed.
“Then Tabitha asked him about the promise he’d made. That made him mad because he growled, and I’m quoting here: ‘Don’t
bring that up here. Jeez, do you ever use your brains or is it all in your backside?’” Aleta smirked and uncrossed her legs. “Ouch, that hurts the legs. I’m too old to sit like that anymore.”
“What a prince.” Georgie shook her head and frowned.
“Yeah, well, Tabitha certainly isn’t a princess. Her reply was, ‘You never complained about my backside before,’ and then she glared at him like this.” Aleta shrugged her shoulders and folded her arms across her chest the same way she’d seen Tabitha move.
“Did they say anything more?” Georgie asked.
“I heard Dell say something about playing it cool or else the police would be all over them, and that wasn’t what he wanted.” Aleta shrugged again before continuing. “He told her that now he needed her to just walk away and let him handle things there. He said a lot of people were going to want to talk about this, to spill their guts, to cry about the great loss. He’d have to make it look good.”
“My gosh. We should just call Stan and wrap this up before dinner time,” Georgie harrumphed. “I can’t believe they didn’t catch on to you listening in.”
“They didn’t have a clue I was listening.” Aleta was certain. “They were too busy making plans. But from where I was, it was pretty obvious that Dell was the brains of the operation. He didn’t want Tabitha to help. He told her it would look bad.”
“Compared to what?” Georgie made herself laugh. “Compared to actually killing the guy? Their shenanigans were hardly a blip on the morality radar.”
“Before I could do anything, Dell grabbed Tabitha’s arm and pulled her to the far corner of the booth where I couldn’t hear. But I could tell by his body language that he was not happy with what Tabitha had just threatened.” Aleta went on to describe how she had seen his fingers digging into Tabitha’s arm even as she tried to pry them loose. That hadn’t stopped Tabitha from shaking her head defiantly and poking him in his chest, though. “They obviously had something to do with what had happened last night, but to what degree they were involved, I don’t know.” Aleta suddenly stopped and pointed up. “Although . . .”
“What?” Georgie looked up thinking Aleta was indicating something either on the ceiling or in heaven. She was wrong on both counts.
“There was one thing I noticed that I’ll bet no one else saw.” Aleta straightened her back proudly.
“What is that?”
“Yesterday, when you were trying to talk to Dell and he was being rude to you, I was hanging back pretending to look at all the things at the display. I counted twenty-two trophy thingies. Guess what?”
“What?” Georgie’s eyes were wide, and she clapped her hands.
“There are only twenty-one of them there now. I’ll bet the one that is missing is our murder weapon.” Aleta polished her nails on her sweater and smirked. “Those things look heavy. Dell would easily be able to swipe one without anyone noticing or even being suspicious of him if they did see him take one. Heck, he could probably walk around with one in his hand and no one would think twice about it. He’s Cole Ness’s right-hand man. Of course, he’s carrying around one of his awards. Why wouldn’t he be?”
“You are really on to something, Aleta. But where does that leave Malcolm?” Georgie asked.
“I think you just had a conversation with a guy who is nothing more than a stalker that was escorted out of the place yesterday.” Aleta shook her head and frowned. “He probably dreamt that story up.”
“Stranger things have happened.” Georgie took a deep breath and let it out. “So, what do we do now? We’ve got overheard conversations, but no real proof that anyone did anything more than hate Cole Ness and is now celebrating his demise.”
“I certainly can’t think with nothing more than an elephant ear and some coffee in my system.” Aleta stood and held her hands out to help Georgie up. “Why don’t we stop at the restaurant and have something to eat. Then, I say we head back to the convention and see what Stan says.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Georgie said.
Chapter 10
They took a seat in the hotel restaurant next to the window. Before long, there was a cheeseburger with a double chocolate milkshake in front of Georgie, and Aleta was sizing up the triple-decker BLT with a strawberry milkshake that had been placed in front of her.
“This looks great. I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” Georgie said.
“Same here,” Aleta said. In between bites, she and Georgie talked about some of the characters they’d seen. Aleta wanted to find something for Emily to say thank you for pet-sitting. Georgie suggested a pair of sunglasses like hers.
“Aren’t they wonderful?” Georgie said slipping on the intricate goggles.
“You look like you are ready to do laps in a pool,” Aleta teased.
“Come on. These are fantastic. They are retro-futuristic,” Georgie said as she looked around the restaurant that had quickly filled up with the lunchtime crowd. But something caught her eye at the far end of the dining room.
“Retro-future . . . whatever. I know Emily would like them. Somehow your sense of style continues to rub off on her. But I suppose it could be worse.” Aleta talked but Georgie wasn’t listening. She was too busy staring.
“Georgie? Is something wrong?”
“I think the person behind that menu is Maggie.”
“Where?” Aleta turned and boldly scanned the restaurant.
“Over there.” Georgie pointed.
There was a person with a menu up in front of their face. Aleta got up from her seat. Tugging her shirt down at the hem, she took a step.
“What in the world are you doing?” Georgie tried to grab her sister’s sleeve.
“I’m going to tell her that she’s not dealing just with you but me, as well, and if she doesn’t stop, I’ll file a restraining order in the precinct where she works.”
But before Aleta could make her threat, the person behind the menu jumped up and quickly scurried from the restaurant, leaving the twins looking after in surprise. It was Maggie.
“How about that?” Aleta sniffed and cleared her throat. “I scared her.”
“Aleta, what is going on? This kind of stuff only happens in movies. Fatal attractions and stalkers. It’s just in the movies, right?”
“Looks like not always,” Aleta said after sitting back down.
“My gosh. That woman made me almost not be able to drink my milkshake,” Georgie said bending the straw to her lips. “I guess I better tell Stan.”
“I think you should, Georgie. You just don’t know what Maggie is capable of.”
They finished their lunch with Aleta doing most of the talking, telling Georgie this situation with Maggie was serious. She suggested getting security cameras at her home and maybe a couple of motion-sensor lights on the house.
“You don’t really think all that is necessary, do you?” Georgie gasped.
“I’m not sure,” Aleta replied, taking the check from the table and pulling her wallet from her purse. “But I can’t say enough that this isn’t normal behavior for a grown woman.”
After they had paid and left the restaurant, Georgie suggested they walk back to the convention center to find Stan. The sky was overcast, but it was still pleasant with a cool breeze coming off Lake Michigan. The water was spotted with sail boats off in the distance.
There were hundreds of people walking, running, bicycling, and roller-blading along the lakeshore pedway. Georgie didn’t say anything as she and Aleta walked along arm in arm, but her mind was a jumble of thoughts that felt like someone had emptied out a 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle in her brain— all the pieces were jumbled in a pile, everything looked like it went together, yet nothing fit. The stress was starting to give her a headache, and she was afraid she wasn’t going to be able to enjoy the rest of the event.
Once inside, Georgie pulled on Aleta’s arm, tugging her out of the main stream of foot traffic. “I don’t think I should say anything to Stan about Maggie.” She pinched her eyebrows tog
ether and avoided Aleta’s gaze.
“What? Why not?”
“I don’t know, Aleta. Something in my gut is telling me to keep quiet about it. At least for now. What has she really done except sneak around and spy on us? And it’s only because we are here at this event all mixed together. If I were home and Stan was at his own place, I’ll bet she wouldn’t be acting so crazy.”
“I don’t know if she’s the one acting crazy,” Aleta interrupted. “Georgie, I’m not saying you should go and tattle to Stan, calling her names and telling him to book her. I’m just saying you should tell him not only for your own safety but for his, too.”
“I’m going to think about it. But I do think we should tell him what we’ve learned about Dell and Tabitha.”
“Okay, Georgie.” Aleta slipped her arm through her sister’s. “If you say so. But if I see that woman lurking within five hundred feet of you, I’m telling Stan immediately.”
“It’s a deal.”
The convention was in full swing. People were bustling about, inching their way through the crowded floor talking and laughing. Money was being exchanged for merchandise. From the looks of it, the vendors were doing great business.
“Georgie!” It was Neesee waving from the middle of a sea of people.
Georgie waved back, and she and Aleta headed over.
“I’m glad I found you,” Neesee said. “Do you have any more business cards? We think someone stole the last stack you gave us.”
“Stole it?” Aleta shook her head like she thought she might have heard Neesee wrong.
“Yeah. I guess there has been a good deal of thieving going on.” Neesee folded her arms across her chest. “We’ve heard that there was a replica of a saber-wand from Galaxy Wars that was stolen. It’s only worth about four hundred dollars. A signed picture of Deep Dweller is missing. That was worth a couple of hundred. Plus, people are saying they are missing little bits of inventory, jewelry, shot glasses, you know, stuff that can easily fit in your pocket. I think even the Nuclear Wolf booth has been hit. No respect for the dead.”