Read Diva 03 _ Diva Paints the Town, The Online

Authors: Krista Davis

Tags: #Murder, #Winston; Sophie (Fictitious Character), #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction, #Women Sleuths, #General, #Dwellings

Diva 03 _ Diva Paints the Town, The (27 page)

BOOK: Diva 03 _ Diva Paints the Town, The
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We were tucked into bed by one, and awakened half an hour later when we heard Hank screaming “Kurt! Kurt!” followed by an ominous crash.
THIRTY
From
“Ask Natasha”
:
Dear Natasha,
I love color. I’m devoted to your show and have learned so much that my rooms are gorgeous. But my stairs are so plain and boring. Any suggestions?
 
—Boring Stairs in Staunton
 
Dear Boring,
Stencil the risers. If you’re artistic, you can paint them freehand. Select four designs you like and add one to each riser, then repeat. Or stencil a different saying or inspirational word on each riser. Your stairs will be anything but boring.
 
—Natasha
I stumbled down the stairs in haste. Emmaline nearly tripped me in her eagerness to get to the sunroom. I could hear Nina seconds behind me. I flicked on lights as we hurried along the hallway.
In the sunroom, we found a very disgruntled Wolf sitting on the brick floor. Hank’s cage had fallen and lay on its side. My little scamp, Mochie, sat atop it, dipping his paw between the cage wires, trying to reach Hank.
“When did you get a bird?” demanded Wolf. “And why don’t you lock your door?”
I helped him up, protesting that I always lock the sunroom door.
He flashed me a reproving look. “If the door had been locked, I wouldn’t be inside your house.”
Good point. “I must have overlooked locking it. I had company tonight, and we were pretty tired.”
“Did you knock over Hank’s cage?” Nina set it on the table where it had been.
“Somebody screamed Kurt’s name, I opened the door, there was a crash, and I fell over the cage.”
I had a sneaking suspicion that Mochie hadn’t been as worn out as me, and that he’d paid a middle-of-the-night visit to Hank with fiendish feline motives. “Maybe Hank should sleep in a room where we can shut the door.”
Wolf dusted off his hands. “I’ll carry the cage into the den if you two will turn off the lights before Kenner sees me here.”
I froze, thinking about Wolf and his deceptions. Did I dare confront him? Nina scurried around closing drapes and turning off lights, and we met up with Wolf in the living room. I still harbored doubts, but decided it would be best to play along and pretend I didn’t know about the bouquet he’d sent Tara.
“I don’t know what you said to Kenner, but it appears to have done some good,” said Wolf.
Nina laughed. “You should have seen Sophie in action, making a fuss about how the two of you aren’t a couple.”
“Have you had dinner?” I asked. “I have leftover lamb.”
“As a matter of fact, I had dinner, but I’ll have a bit of my Valentine Black Forest cherry cake if there’s any left.”
Nina amused Wolf with her version of our encounter with Kenner while I fetched the remaining cake. Working fast, I made decaf coffees with Irish Cream liqueur, topped off with dollops of whipped cream.
When I returned, Nina and Wolf had revived the fire in the fireplace and lit the candles on the coffee table.
“I came by to update you on what’s going on, but this is just what I needed.” Wolf took the mug of coffee I offered him and allowed his fingers to graze my hand.
“So spill the news already,” pleaded Nina. “I can’t stand thinking I’m going to be the next victim.”
“We found Kurt’s car in long-term parking out at the airport.”
“Were there security cameras? Did you see anyone’s face on the tapes?” I asked.
“No such luck. Whoever deposited the car wore a baseball cap with a hood over top of it.”
Nina gulped her coffee. “I don’t know how long I can go on like this. I’m scared all the time.”
“The good news is that we have a tape of someone following Tara. The bad news is that it’s Humphrey.”
“You know he didn’t kill her. He’s meek as a mouse.” I knew I shouldn’t eat more cake, but I took a bite anyway and savored the chocolate and cream.
“We don’t know any such thing. I know Humphrey attended the banquet because I recall him helping with CPR. But it’s kind of scary that a guy like Humphrey can blend into the woodwork so well. Almost no one remembers seeing him there.”
“He took Francie. I bet she can tell you if he left her side for even a second,” I said.
“There’s one other thing.” Wolf swallowed a bite of cake. “Tara received no less than three Valentine bouquets. Two dozen long-stemmed red roses with a note that said ‘I need you,’ a pink tea rose arrangement with baby’s breath from an anonymous admirer, and, apparently, the flowers that were meant to be sent to you from me.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Which contained a card with my name. From what I gather, Tara manufactured a story about our relationship, which she shared with the florist, who thought your address was a mistake and sent the flowers to Tara instead. Unfortunately, that doesn’t help my claim that Tara and I didn’t have a relationship.”
“Oh no!” I groaned, feeling immense relief that Wolf hadn’t sent flowers to Tara after all. “So instead of being off the hook, it looks worse for you.”
Wolf nodded.
“Wait,” I said, “do you know when the ‘I need you’ roses were ordered? That might exclude Kurt.”
Nina gripped her mug with both hands. “How long was Kurt dead? Sophie thinks he was dead when she saw him in the window seat. She may be right but I think he couldn’t have been dead long or he would have smelled. If I’m right, Kurt would have been alive and could have killed Tara at the banquet.”
“I haven’t heard any autopsy results yet. But Mordecai planned ahead for those paintings and artifacts. He installed a climate control system that kept his little gallery at sixty degrees with limited humidity, and that probably slowed Kurt’s deterioration. I suspect Mordecai didn’t realize that the vent under the porch had broken and that cold air was seeping in.”
“The vent?” asked Nina. “The hole where Emmaline and the cat got in and out?”
“How are the kittens?” asked Wolf.
“They’re doing fine. Francie and I are taking them to the vet tomorrow for a full checkup.” She frowned at Wolf. “Aren’t you prohibited from sharing police information with us? Or is this some kind of clever cop maneuver to get me to confess?”
Wolf laughed aloud. “I haven’t told you anything that won’t be in the morning paper. Well, except Humphrey’s name, but you would have figured that out from the description.”
I didn’t want to pooh-pooh Nina’s theory that Kurt could have killed Tara, but his appearance in the window seat was still fresh in my mind, and he had seemed dead to me. “I think we can count Humphrey out. Of all the people I know, I can’t imagine that he would be brave enough to shoot a nail gun.”
“Then the killer had to be Tara’s new lover or her old one,” said Nina.
Wolf whipped around to look at her. “Since she told everyone I was the new boyfriend, I certainly hope you don’t mean me.”
Nina nudged him with her bare toes in a conciliatory gesture. “It could have been the lover’s wife. What about Earl? She attended the banquet, and there’s something very suspicious about her. Kurt said she was out of town, visiting her mother. But either she never left or she returned early. And she wasn’t behaving like someone whose husband was missing.”
“What about Posey?” I asked. “She acted like she was torn up over Tara’s death, but I heard she tried to sneak a nail gun out of the convention hall.”
“Where’s her motive?” said Wolf.
“She and Kurt were an item when they were in college. Maybe she still loved him and flew into a jealous rage.”
“This is terrible,” blurted Nina. “The cops must think I had a motive. I’m sure they think I was seeing Kurt behind my husband’s back.”
“Wolf, do you think Kurt was murdered before or after Tara?” I asked. “Is it possible that Tara killed Kurt, and then someone, maybe Earl, killed Tara in revenge?”
“Once again, I’m the prime candidate,” Nina announced. “I could have knocked off Kurt and then gone after Tara.”
I tried to suppress a grin. “There’s only one little snafu with your bold theory—I don’t think you knew how to open the hatch to the stairway where we found Kurt.”
Nina tucked her feet underneath her. “I’m smart enough to have figured that out.” When neither Wolf nor I spoke, she added, “Okay, I didn’t know how to open it. I didn’t even know it could open.”
Wolf rubbed his face. “Don’t worry, Nina. Soph and I are right up there with you as prime contenders. Apparently everyone thought Tara and I were an item. It astonishes me how many people believed her when she told them that we were close to getting engaged. I can’t imagine what she was thinking.”
“
Aww
,” cooed Nina. “She had a big old crush on you, you teddy bear.”
I ignored their banter because something had been bothering me. “If Mordecai murdered someone and buried him or her under his house, then why would he have wanted his students to find the grave?”
“
Huh
?” Nina squinted at me.
“He arranged the bequest party and gave his former students clues that would lead them to open the wall unit, find their inheritance and, consequently, the grave. Why would he do that? Why not hide their bequest in the attic and leave the grave undiscovered?”
Wolf finished his piece of cake. “Dying confession, in a manner of speaking? Maybe he wanted someone to have some closure and know what happened to a loved one. Or maybe it was his way of clearing up his guilt over the murder.”
Wolf’s words reminded me that his wife had gone missing. No wonder he thought about closure.
“Maybe it’s his wife and he didn’t want her body to remain undiscovered for heaven knows how long,” suggested Nina.
“Sort of a mean thing to do to a bunch of students whom he apparently liked,” I said. “Finding a grave would come as a big shock.”
Wolf shook his head. “Poor old Mordecai. Just goes to show what guilt can do to a person. He withdrew from life after that murder and lived the rest of his days in fear of being discovered.”
Although it seemed like I should have felt better after talking with Wolf, I felt unsettled. Was there a connection between Kurt’s death and Tara’s murder? And why would Mordecai lead his students to a grave?
When Wolf was ready to leave, we stole to the kitchen and looked out at the street to see if Kenner was watching. In the wee hours of the night, it lay quiet and calm. A few porch lights glowed in the night. My neighbors slept, no lights shone in the windows.
It was a peaceful scene, except for one small matter that most people wouldn’t have given a second thought. Smoke rose from one of Mordecai’s chimneys.
THIRTY-ONE
From “THE GOOD LIFE” :
Dear Sophie,
 
My husband and I are living with his parents while we save money for a house of our own. My wicked mother-in-law told me I could decorate our room any way I wanted, but when I did, she had a hissy fit and stole my glue gun. I can’t stand her perfect house where everything is too special to be touched or used. What do I do?
 
—In Agony in Apopka
 
Dear In Agony,
 
For the time being, you’re really like a tenant, so treat your room that way. Change the linens and the drapes, taking care to hand over the old ones to dear mother-in-law for safekeeping. Use slipcovers that suit your style on the upholstered furniture, and buy accent pieces to replace ones that you return to your mother-in-law. A few little changes and the room will feel like it belongs to you, but can be easily restored to its previous style when you move out.
 
—Sophie
“Do you see the smoke?” Wolf gripped my arm, and his voice was low and rumbling. “Do you still have a key?”
I retrieved the key, and the two of us snuck out the door and bolted across the street.
When we reached Mordecai’s front porch, Wolf whispered, “You stay here.”
Not a chance
. He unlocked the door quietly. I slipped through behind him and listened for the sound of footsteps or running water or any clue to human habitation.
I could hear Wolf sniffing, like Bernie had, and I guessed he was trying to determine where the fire might be. The old house had a fireplace in nearly every bedroom. Wolf peeked into the living room, and I assumed that he didn’t see anyone, because he headed up the stairs.
They groaned under his weight, and though I knew the sound couldn’t be very loud, in the sleeping house each step reverberated with alarming creaks. I debated whether or not to follow him and decided against it. Wolf would hear me for sure, and the additional noise might alert anyone who lurked in the house.
BOOK: Diva 03 _ Diva Paints the Town, The
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