Fatal Brushstroke (An Aurora Anderson Mystery Book 1) (15 page)

Chapter 22

When Rory checked on her mother the next morning, Arika declared herself fit enough to work that day. Too tired to argue, Rory drove her mother to the store, staying long enough to help finish the preparations for Thursday’s Norwegian folk art class. After cleaning wood pieces and printing out new instruction sheets, she headed home to work until it was time to pick up her mother in the evening.

Rory returned a half hour before Arika’s Scrap ’n Paint was scheduled to close to find Veronica leaning against the checkout counter while Arika stood next to the cash register and studied a piece of paper. The
View’s
advertising sales rep was dressed in a black pantsuit similar to the one she’d worn to Hester’s memorial service, but had changed the streaks in her hair back to their usual crimson.

Arika peered through reading glasses at the ad proof she held in her hands. A tired look around her eyes and a bandage on her head were the only outward indications of the store owner’s recent ordeal. “This looks fine.”

“A wise investment. You’ll get a slew of calls once this runs in tomorrow’s paper,” Veronica said.

“Are you covering the paint-a-thon for your blog?” Rory asked as she joined the two women at the counter.

Veronica turned to face the new arrival. “And tweeting about it. The
View
even asked me to write an article...Wait. You’ve seen Vista Beach Confidential? All of it?”

At least she had the decency to blush, Rory thought. The woman must be feeling a little guilty about some of the blog’s contents, including the unauthorized crime scene tour. “I think pretty much everyone has, even the police.”

“That detective, too?” Veronica’s tone indicated she considered Detective Green and the local police department incapable of discovering any information that wasn’t recorded on paper. “Guess that’s why they haven’t found the primary crime scene yet. Or the murder weapon. Too busy surfing the web.”

“Haven’t you told them where the weapon is?” Rory said, aghast that the reporter would keep such critical information a secret from the police.

“I’m not going to do their job for them. Anyway, I can’t reveal my sources.”

“Couldn’t you figure out a way to tell them about it without saying where you got the information?”

“Impossible. I’ve got a deadline. See you on Saturday.” Veronica had one foot out the front door when she abruptly turned around. With her head down, she rushed toward the bathroom, mumbling something about dust under a contact.

Moments later, Detective Green entered the store. Rory ducked down behind a display case and busied herself straightening wire racks of scrapbooking paper while she monitored the conversation between the detective and her mother.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Anderson. Feeling better?” Rory heard him say.

“Yes, Detective, thank you. What can I do for you today? Can I interest you in a beginning painting or scrapbooking class? I have one of each starting at the end of the month.”

Rory peeked around the display case and saw her mother hand Detective Green brochures describing the various courses currently taught in the store. Any minute, Rory expected Veronica to reenter the sales floor, but the bathroom door remained firmly closed.

The detective flipped through the brochures, appearing more interested in their contents than Rory had expected. Somehow she doubted the man had spent a single minute up until now thinking about painting designs on wood or creating scrapbooks of special moments. Rory shifted her weight, making sure not to draw attention to her position behind the racks of paper. She wished he’d skip the social pleasantries and divulge the reason for his visit.

“Tempting,” he said.

“They make great gifts.” Arika handed him a flyer for Saturday’s paint-a-thon. “We’re also sponsoring a tribute to Hester Bouquet this weekend. There’ll be classes, demonstrations, and door prizes. Stop by if you get a chance.”

“I may just do that.” The detective folded the handouts and put them in his jacket pocket. “I’m hoping you can help me with something. When Ms. Bouquet left after teaching her class, did you notice if she had her car keys with her?”

“I assume so,” Arika said. “She never came back looking for them. Weren’t they among her things?”

“Afraid not. How long were you open after the class?”

“Ten or fifteen minutes. I’d done most of the closing chores during class so it didn’t take me long to finish up.”

“Check the lost-and-found box.” Rory popped up from behind the display case. Her entrance would have been more graceful had her long hair not gotten caught on a wire rack. “I found a set of keys in the classroom the other day,” she said as she disentangled a strand of hair.

The detective’s lips twitched. “Ms. Anderson. I didn’t see you there.”

Arika reached beneath the counter and pulled out a cardboard box filled to the brim with items customers had left behind. “Never ceases to amaze me the kinds of things people lose.” She rifled through the forgotten earrings, notepads, and odd bits in the box. Before long, she pulled out two key rings, each with two keys attached. “These are the only ones we have. Looks like a Mercedes and a Toyota. Funny no one’s come by looking for them, but people are like that. Probably had no idea where they lost them.” She held out the keys to the detective who plucked the ones with the Mercedes logo from her hand and stuffed them in an inside pocket.

“Thanks. I’ll bring them back if they don’t fit Ms. Bouquet’s car. You two have a nice evening.”

As soon as Detective Green exited the store, Arika walked over to the bathroom door and rapped lightly on it. “He’s gone.”

The words had barely left her mouth when the door flew open and Veronica came out, a sheepish look on her face. Apparently, Rory wasn’t the only one avoiding the detective.

“You can go out the back if you want.” Arika gestured toward the classroom and the door beyond it.

Veronica waved her thanks and, without saying a word, headed toward the alley door.

“How did you know?” Rory asked her mother.

“She doesn’t wear contacts.”

As they closed up the store, Rory thought about the lack of progress the police had made. They still hadn’t discovered where Hester was killed or found the murder weapon. Without that knowledge, Rory doubted the crime would ever be solved. At that moment, she saw little chance Hester’s family would find closure and life would get back to normal anytime soon.

Chapter 23

A little after nine the following morning, Arika was deactivating the store’s alarm while Rory stood nearby when an apparition in green and black barreled down the alley toward them. As soon as the wild-eyed Main Street Squeeze employee reached the back door of Arika’s Scrap ’n Paint, he stopped and blubbered incoherently. Ten minutes, a few pats on the back, and a thousand assurances later, they were able to make out a few words: horrible, juice bar, and home.

Arika stayed with the distraught employee while Rory ran down the alley to find out what had caused the pimply-faced youth to seek help. The back door to Main Street Squeeze stood wide open. Rory called out as she stepped inside the brightly lit office. No one answered her repeated calls. Not even the cat from her previous visit made an appearance.

Rory ventured further inside, pausing at the door leading into the dining area to listen for signs of movement. A heavy stillness lay over the store. When the silence became unbearable, Rory screwed up the courage to step across the threshold into the public area of the restaurant.

The blinds covering the front windows were partially closed. Light streamed out of the walk-in freezer into the semi-darkness. Except for remnants of a shattered blender jar which lay on the floor, everything appeared normal. So far she’d seen nothing that would account for the young man’s agitation.

As Rory stepped over the shards of glass into the freezer, her foot slipped and she grabbed the doorframe to prevent herself from ending up face-down on the ice-cold metal floor. Only after she’d steadied herself did she notice the yoga pant-clad legs and patch of red. “Veronica,” Rory whispered to the empty room, which had now taken on a sinister air. She backed out of the freezer, all too aware that her worst fears for the aspiring reporter had come to pass.

After making sure the front door of the juice bar was locked, Rory called the police and waited in the office for them to arrive. Unable to sit still, she paced the floor and thought about Veronica’s recent blog entry. If only the woman hadn’t advertised her knowledge about the location of the murder weapon, she might still be alive. Perhaps she’d threatened to expose Trudy’s guilt to the world unless the restaurant owner forked over some serious cash. Trudy wasn’t the type who would cave in to blackmail. The body in the freezer was evidence of that.

Rory soon tired of the impromptu exercise and converted her nervous energy into tidying the papers on the desk. As far as she could see, the picture Trudy had torn in half was no longer among them. The woman must have taken it with her.

She’d straightened half the area when she realized the police wouldn’t appreciate her tidiness this time any more than they had when she’d cleaned her kitchen after Hester’s death. She resumed her pacing and, once the detective and his crew finally arrived, pointed wordlessly in the direction of the walk-in freezer. While they inspected the crime scene, she sat down behind the desk and waited to be questioned.

Rory was wondering how long the police would detain her when a specter sidled through the alley doorway. She closed her eyes, counted to ten, then opened them again. This time the figure spoke.

“Psst! What can you tell me? I hear there’s another body,” Veronica said.

Rory motioned helplessly toward the door leading into the front of the store. “I thought you...Then who...?”

The woman stepped further inside the office. “Are you okay? What’s got you spooked? Don’t tell me
you’re
the one who found the body?”

Before Rory could recover from the shock of discovering the woman she thought dead was alive and kicking, Detective Green entered the office through the inside door. “What are you doing here?” he said to the intruder. Barely concealing his anger, one of the few times Rory had seen the man show any emotion at all, he escorted Veronica out into the alley. After chastising the uniformed officer he’d left guarding the door for allowing the woman inside, the detective regained his composure and turned his attention to Rory.

“Tell me about finding Ms. Appelbaum.”

“Trudy? Is that who’s in the freezer?”

“Who did you think it was?”

Rory felt foolish for believing, even for a second, the body was Veronica’s. If Trudy had killed the woman, she would have disposed of the evidence somewhere else instead of leaving it in her restaurant for one of her workers to find. Rory remembered how slippery the floor had been when she walked into the freezer. Trudy must have taken a tumble and hit her head on the floor. At least this time the death was the result of a freak accident, not murder. “My mom and I were opening up the store when a Main Street Squeeze employee came running down the alley toward us. Couldn’t really tell what he was so upset about so I came to investigate.”

“Where’s this employee now?”

“My mom’s taking care of him at the store.”

Detective Green sent the officer who was guarding the back door to retrieve the youth from Arika’s Scrap ’n Paint, then sat down on the edge of the desk less than an arm’s length from Rory. “When did you see Ms. Applebaum last?”

Rory scooted her chair back until she no longer felt the detective was breathing down her neck. She debated whether she should bring up her discussion with Trudy the other evening, but decided the news wasn’t hers to tell. That would only expose a skeleton that was better left in the closet. “Tuesday morning when she came by the store with Julian right after the break-in.” At least the Tuesday part was true, Rory thought.

“How did she seem when you talked with her? Was she depressed or upset in any way?”

“Why are asking me that? I thought she fell and hit her head.”

“So, you know of no reason she’d have for ending it all?”

“You think she committed suicide?”

“Is that impossible?”

“She didn’t strike me as the suicidal type, but then I didn’t know her that well.” Rory hoped her eyes didn’t betray her secret knowledge. Let someone else reveal to the police that Trudy’s world had collapsed around her when Kevin discovered her deception.

As if sensing she was withholding the truth, the detective leaned forward and stared into her eyes.

Rory slid her chair back as far as it would go. She would have increased the distance between them, but the wall behind her prevented the chair from moving any further.

“One other thing. This is your handwriting, isn’t it?” He dangled a plastic evidence bag in front of her face. Inside was a Post-it note she recognized as one of the little yellow squares she’d stuffed inside her wallet this past week. This one contained tips on using the flocking materials her mother had given her.

Rory nodded, afraid to say anything.

“Any idea what it was doing in the freezer?”

“I must have dropped it on the office floor when I came to see her Tuesday evening,” she said without thinking. “The Post-it must have attached itself to my shoe when I walked through here a little while ago and ended up where you found it.”

“I thought you saw Ms. Appelbaum earlier in the day at your mother’s store, not here.”

She really had to learn to keep her lies straight. “Oh, I forgot about that. I dropped by to thank her for her concern for my mother. I was only here a few minutes.”

“You do that a lot, don’t you? Forget.” The detective studied her for a moment before continuing. “Doesn’t really explain what it was doing
under
the body, though.”

“Under the body?” Rory managed to squeak out.

After a few more questions, Detective Green released her from her misery. On her way back to Arika’s Scrap ’n Paint, Rory passed the Main Street Squeeze employee and his escort heading down the alley toward the juice bar. Time with Rory’s mother had done the young man a world of good. He appeared more composed than earlier, though a frightened look still shone from his eyes similar to the one he’d had when he’d asked Tru—

Steps away from her destination, Rory froze in her tracks. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized the employee who’d found the body had been the one who’d overheard her conversation with his boss. She wondered how much he remembered and whether or not he’d feel compelled to share that information with the police.