Fatal Brushstroke (An Aurora Anderson Mystery Book 1) (22 page)

Chapter 32

With Julian glued to their sides, Rory and Liz had little opportunity to examine the rest of the condo complex for signs Hester had been killed there. He almost pushed them through the pool and exercise areas, insisting he had nowhere more pressing to be, yet allowing them little time to look around. They soon gave up on discovering anything significant.

Barely fifteen minutes after they’d first seen him, Julian left them standing by their car, disappointed in the way the day had turned out. On the ride back to Rory’s house, Liz said, “I’ll take another look around the complex when Julian’s at work tomorrow.”

“I doubt you’ll find anything. Now that he knows we’re interested, he’ll have gotten rid of any incriminating evidence if he hasn’t already. Look at how fast he had Hester’s car detailed before the police could examine it. At least we still have the graffiti to investigate. We should check with Mrs. Griswold as soon as we get back to my place.” Rory clung to the hope her hyper-vigilant neighbor had seen something that would lead them to the vandal and, just maybe, to the murderer himself.

Five minutes later, the two young women stood on Mrs. Griswold’s entry porch and rang the bell. After a short pause, they heard a faint “Who is it?” from behind the windowless door. Once Rory identified herself, her cautious neighbor ushered them inside.

“Can’t be too careful these days. You hear about home invasions all the time, even in this town. Better safe than sorry, I always say.” She led them into a living room furnished with modern pieces mixed with a few antiques Rory suspected were family heirlooms. Almost every horizontal surface was covered with framed photos and tchotchkes, except the desk which was piled high with books and papers. They sat down on a couch upholstered in a flowered fabric reminiscent of the eighties. Mrs. Griswold settled into a recliner opposite them. She peered through wire-rimmed glasses at Liz. “You look familiar. Do I know you?”

Liz took a business card out of her purse and handed it over. “Elizabeth Dexter, ma’am, but you can call me Liz. So nice to meet you at last.”

Mrs. Griswold frowned when she read the card. “You’re a real estate agent? Did my no-good son put you up to this? I’m not going into one of those assisted care facilities. You can tell him I’m not selling. He can’t make me.” Her face took on a stubborn air and she pushed herself forward as if to stand.

Before Mrs. Griswold could order them to leave, Rory said, “We’re not here about your house. We wanted to ask if you’d seen anyone suspicious around lately. Someone vandalized my property last night.”

The elderly woman settled back down in her chair. “That’s not good. We need something to drink. I have a lovely decaffeinated Earl Grey that should do the trick.” She refused their offer to help and headed into the kitchen to make the tea.

While they waited, the two young women flipped through a photo album that lay open on the coffee table. They were examining a picture of a twenty-something man Rory had occasionally seen around the neighborhood when Mrs. Griswold returned. Rory pointed to the photo. “Is this your grandson?”

Mrs. Griswold poured the tea and offered cups to her two guests. “Yes, that’s my Albert. Handsome, isn’t he? Lives in Orange County, but he stops by as often as he can. He recently broke up with
that one
so he’s available.” Her tone indicated her dislike for the young woman clinging to Albert’s arm in the photo. “He’s quite a catch. Doesn’t drink or smoke and makes a good living.” She looked at Rory and Liz as if waiting for one of them to ask for her grandson’s phone number. When neither one leapt at the opportunity, Mrs. Griswold humphed and continued, “You said something about vandalism?”

“You must have seen the police cars last night,” Rory said. “I called them because someone painted an...unkind word on my gate.”

Mrs. Griswold took a sip of her tea. “Wish I could help, but I stayed with a friend last night. Didn’t get back until this morning.” From the way the woman emphasized the word “friend,” Rory suspected her neighbor had been visiting a romantic partner. Liz held her cup in front of her mouth and suppressed a giggle.

Rory took a sip of Earl Grey to hide her disappointment. Of all her neighbors, Mrs. Griswold was the most likely to have noticed something that would lead to identification of the person responsible for the graffiti. “I was hoping you’d seen something. The police don’t appear interested in investigating.”

“Not important enough with everything else going on in town, I suppose. Not that they’ve gotten very far with those murders, either.” Mrs. Griswold shook her head. “I might have something that will help, though.”

She put down her cup and walked over to the nearby desk. After rummaging around for a minute, she returned with a cable and the binoculars Rory had seen her neighbor using the day she’d uncovered Hester’s body. “Albert gave me these. I’m a birdwatcher, you see. Wiles away the time.”

Liz looked at Rory as if to say “I bet that’s not all she watches.”

Rory poked her friend in the ankle with the tip of her foot and hoped Mrs. Griswold hadn’t noticed the exchange.

“These binoculars have a camera in them, but I don’t know how to get the pictures off. Albert was going to do it for me, but he’s so busy with his new job, he hasn’t gotten around to it yet. They’re pictures of birds, mostly, but there have been some suspicious cars on the block recently after the...” Mrs. Griswold cleared her throat and looked pointedly at Rory. “...kerfuffle at your place a couple weeks ago. I took photos of the license plates and was planning on giving them to the police. Maybe one of them belongs to the person who vandalized your property.” She handed the binoculars to Rory. “I have a manual around here somewhere...” She walked over to the desk and picked up a booklet that lay next to an ancient answering machine.

Rory examined the binocam and flipped through the manual. “Looks pretty straightforward. I can show you how to transfer the pictures to your computer if you want.”

“Goodness, no. I don’t have one of those. Don’t know what I’d do with it. Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer to actually talk to my friends, not send them email.”

“Then what did your grandson expect you to do with the photos?” Rory asked, a little puzzled.

“He’s giving me his old laptop when he buys a new one,” the woman grudgingly admitted. “But that won’t be for a while. If you could print them out for me, I’d appreciate it.”

The three of them chatted while they finished their tea, then Rory and Liz left with a promise to return the items as soon as possible.

When they stepped inside Rory’s house, they headed for the computer. Rory settled down at her desk while Liz pulled up a nearby chair and sat down beside her friend.

“I wonder what she’s
really
been taking pictures of. Can’t be just birds and license plates. Neighbors doing bad things?” Liz said.

“We’ll find out soon enough.” Rory connected the binoculars to one of her computer’s USB ports and, in no time, she’d downloaded the photos her neighbor had taken. “Let’s see what we have.”

Intermixed with shots of the crows that plagued the neighborhood and the tiny brown birds Rory occasionally saw in her backyard were pictures of some of her neighbors in what could only be described as private moments. The bank executive across the street really had to learn to keep his bedroom curtains shut. Rory would never look at him the same again. She’d just gotten that disturbing image out of her brain when another shocking photo came up on the display.

As soon as Liz saw the arm sticking out of the dirt, she scrunched her eyes shut and swiveled her chair around, refusing to look at the computer screen. “Do you think Granny G took that on purpose?”

Rory averted her gaze from the crime scene photo and examined the binoculars, paying particular attention to the location of the shutter release. “I suppose she could have taken it accidentally.” She took a deep breath and turned back to the image on the screen. Her finger poised above the mouse, she was about to move on when her gaze became riveted to the jacket sleeve. With her elbow, she nudged her friend’s back. “Look at this.”

“I’m not looking at anything from the crime scene.”

“Come on, just take a quick look. I need your opinion about the button on Hester’s sleeve.”

“Describe it.”

“It’s a button. Turn around and look at it. You can barely see anything.” Rory spun Liz’s chair around. “Now, concentrate on the sleeve and forget about the hand.”

Liz peeked through her fingers at the display for what seemed to Rory like a millisecond, then turned her chair around to face the wall. “Never seen it before.”

“You hardly looked at it. Don’t be so squeamish. Try again.”

Liz swiveled her chair back around and stared at the photo, longer this time. “Seems like a typical suit button. Beyond that, I don’t know.”

“Something about it is familiar. Hang on. I’ll be right back.” Rory went into her bedroom and sifted through the pile of odds and ends on top of her dresser. When she found what she was looking for, she brought the button into the other room where Liz was staring fixedly at the wall in front of her. “Here, take a look.”

Liz plucked the gold dome out of Rory’s hand and compared it to the one on the screen. “It matches the one in the photo, all right. There are blue threads on it. Could be from Hester’s suit.” She laid the button on the desk and turned her back to the computer. “Where did you pick it up?”

Rory scrunched her face in thought. “I don’t know. That’s not very helpful, is it?”

“Maybe you’ll remember where you picked it up later. We still have the license plates. Have you found them yet?”

Rory sped through the rest of the gruesome photos, cringing at the one of Hester’s bashed-in head. When a close-up of a license plate appeared on the screen, she nudged Liz. “It’s safe to turn around now.” Little of the area surrounding the plate was visible so they couldn’t tell the make or model of the vehicle. They stared at the photo and the two following, but neither recognized the cars in question. After snapping photos of the license plates with her cell phone, Rory printed out copies of all the pictures for Mrs. Griswold, omitting the ones of Hester’s body. “Do you think one of the cars belongs to the murderer? Could be revisiting the scene of the crime.”

“Or they could all belong to looky-loos who are just curious about where a crime occurred. Murders don’t happen very often around here,” Liz said.

“We’re not making much progress, are we? What do we do now?”

“Let’s review what we know so far.”

Rory nodded her head. “Good idea. Let’s see...We know Julian was at Trudy’s condo from eleven p.m. to some time in the middle of the night. He could have gone to Trudy’s, killed Hester at his condo complex later, then moved the body.”

“That’s not the only possibility. Kevin could have killed his mother. He was wandering around town both nights, remember? And Veronica told us she saw him with Hester.”

“I’m not sure I believe her. She lied about the weapon on her blog. Maybe she lied about seeing Kevin with Hester.”

“Why would she do that?”

“She’s mad at him?” Rory ventured.

“Or she’s covering up her own Dastardly Deed! She admitted to being in town that night. And Hester was standing in her way of marrying Kevin. We never heard the exact time of death, did we? We might be able to narrow down the list of suspects if we had it.”

“Isn’t that part of the autopsy report?”

“I was so excited about Hester not being Kevin’s mother, I forgot to ask about it. I’ll get right on it,” Liz said.

“That’s one avenue of research. We should also find out who the plates belong to. Do you know anyone who can help?”

“I think so. Let me make a call.”

While Rory took the binocam and prints to her neighbor, Liz called her contact at the police station. When Rory returned, her heart sank at the look on her friend’s face. “No luck?”

“He wouldn’t help. Too worried about his job. The chief’s been looking over everyone’s shoulder lately.”

“That’s it, then.”

“Maybe not. They might come back or we might see one of the cars around town. Plus there’s the time of death. Maybe we’ll catch a break with that.”

Rory hoped one of their avenues of investigation would produce results. Otherwise, they were at a dead end with no place to turn.

Chapter 33

Rory settled down to work early Monday morning, bent on meeting her deadlines in spite of the recent disruptions to her routine. Once she banished all thoughts of mysterious vehicles and unidentified murderers from her mind, nothing disturbed her concentration until the swish of brushes against pavement brought her back to the real world. Outside her window, a street sweeper maneuvered around a silver Honda parked in front of the house across the street, risking the wrath of the bank executive who lived there. Probably a stranger who didn’t know the sweeping hours. With no signs posted, only those who lived on the block knew when to move their cars. Rory toyed with the idea of putting a note on the sedan’s windshield, but decided not to bother.

Rory’s shoulders and neck ached from the hours at the keyboard. She stretched to relieve the tension. After a break to visit the bathroom and make herself a sandwich, she brought her lunch to her desk and buried herself in her work once again.

She resurfaced when the clang of metal against metal signaled the arrival of the afternoon mail. Rory stepped onto the porch to see what the mail carrier had delivered and glanced across the street. The car she’d noticed earlier was still parked in the same spot. While she watched, a head popped up then disappeared again, reminding her of the whack-a-mole game she’d once played at a fair.

From her vantage point near the front door, Rory could only make out part of the car’s license plate. She stepped off the porch and headed over to investigate. Before she was halfway across the lawn, the Honda’s engine roared to life. The driver glanced in her direction long enough for Rory to recognize the face. As Veronica sped away, barely missing a BMW that had the misfortune to be passing by at that moment, Rory memorized the plate, then compared it to the photos on her cell phone of the suspicious vehicles Mrs. Griswold had seen on the block. One of them matched the car she now knew belonged to the aspiring reporter.

Her interest piqued by Veronica’s odd behavior, Rory dialed the woman’s cell phone number to ask for an explanation, but the call went straight to voicemail. Probably too embarrassed to answer, Rory thought. After half a dozen tries in the space of forty-five minutes, she gave up. She’d ask her mother to make the call later. Veronica was unlikely to ignore a phone call from a longtime customer.

The rest of the work day passed uneventfully. Rory made enough progress she didn’t feel guilty knocking off work a little after five and heading to her mother’s store. She took along the keys Detective Green had given her at the paint-a-thon. When she reached home on Saturday, she’d realized she’d forgotten to return them to the lost-and-found box. After the ordeal with the graffiti and the less-than-helpful police officers, she hadn’t felt like driving back downtown that evening.

The bell over the front door jingled when Rory walked into Arika’s Scrap ’n Paint. The sales floor appeared deserted. Either none of the students in that evening’s class had arrived yet or they were already seated at the tables in the next room, though she didn’t hear the usual murmur of voices coming from that direction. When she reached the checkout counter, she glanced to her right and noticed Nora crouched down in an aisle, studying a display of varnishes on the lowest shelf.

“Hi, Nora, is my mom around?”

“She’s on the phone in the back. Something about an order. Here it is.” The painting instructor grabbed a can of matte spray and stood up. “Have you tried this new varnish yet? I’m going to recommend it to my students.”

“It’s the last session of the mailbox class, isn’t it? What are you going to do when it’s over?”

“I’ll be teaching another class here next month. One of my own designs.” She pointed to a red lacquered tray on the shelf next to the mailbox Hester had painted. “You should consider taking it.”

Rory picked up the new addition to the display, a Russian folk art piece she remembered seeing in Nora’s studio. “I’ve always wanted to try this style. Not sure I’m good enough to do it, though.”

“Nonsense. I’ve seen you paint. You’ll do just fine.” Nora set the bottle on the checkout counter, then took off her glasses and cleaned them on a tissue she had in her jacket pocket. After she put them back on, she said, “I was wondering if you could help me with something. I lost a rose pin on Saturday. Did you find it when you were cleaning up?”

Rory cast her mind back to the time she’d spent putting the store to rights after the event. She hated to disappoint the woman, but she couldn’t remember finding anything on the floor that night. “Sorry. Was it important?”

Nora’s face fell. “I was so hoping...I know it seems silly, but it was the last piece Hester and I painted together.”

She must be talking about the pin the two painting instructors demoed at the convention a few weeks back, Rory thought. “I understand. Maybe someone else picked it up. Did you check the lost-and-found box?”

The hopeful expression returned to the woman’s face. “That’s a good idea. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

Rory retrieved the box from its hiding place and balanced it on the edge of the crowded countertop, shoving aside a display of pens to give her more room. “Let’s see...” She rifled through the hodgepodge in the box, almost declaring victory when she spotted the edge of a painted wood piece but, when she unearthed the rest of it, all she found was a heart-shaped earring. After more searching, she reluctantly admitted defeat. “Sorry, Nora. I’m afraid it’s gone.”

The woman scrunched her face as if holding back tears. Rory wished her mother, who always knew the right thing to say in these situations, would magically appear. In desperation, Rory shoved the box in Nora’s direction. “I might have missed it. Maybe you should take a look.”

Hester’s protégé clutched the box to her chest, staring with mist-filled eyes at its disappointing contents. The sudden appearance of the owner of H & J Security, dressed in a neatly pressed suit, turned out to be the perfect antidote for the avalanche of tears that threatened to stream down the woman’s face. As soon as she saw her boss, Nora brushed away the tears that had found their way to her cheek. Panic filled her eyes. “Did you need me for something? I didn’t miss a call, did I?” Her left arm holding the box, she pulled her Blackberry out of her jacket pocket and checked its display.

“No, everything’s fine. I just stopped by to drop these off.”

“You could have given them to me earlier. Would have saved you the trip,” Nora said.

“I forgot you were teaching tonight.” Julian placed a bunch of brochures and stapled papers on the little space available on the counter. “Rory, here’s some information I thought your cousin would appreciate on Vista Beach and the surrounding area.”

“Cousin?” Rory replied without thinking, momentarily forgetting about the story she’d told him the previous day.

A puzzled expression on his face, Julian said, “The one who’s moving to town.”

“Who’s moving to town?” Arika emerged from the back room, carrying an unpainted tin tray the same shape as the finished piece in the bookcase.

Before Rory’s mother could expose her daughter’s white lie, a wild-eyed Veronica burst through the front door as though a mob had chased her down the block and into the store.

As soon as she spotted Julian, the young woman said, “I’m so sorry. I took it down as soon as I saw it. I had no idea he’d do that.”

The storm clouds in the man’s eyes reminded Rory of Kevin in the office of Main Street Squeeze. She hoped the older Bouquet had a better method of venting his anger than punching a hole in the wall. Rory stepped in front of her mother to shield her from any objects headed in their direction.

In a frighteningly calm voice, Julian said, “That’s not good enough.”

“He’s banned from posting anything else. I doubt anyone saw it. Anyone important, anyway.”

“It should never have happened in the first place.”

Veronica grabbed his arm, a pleading look in her eyes. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Julian shook off her hand and shoved her aside. Before Rory knew what was happening, the lost-and-found box and Veronica’s tote bag had both fallen to the floor, their contents mingling on the carpet.

Nora rubbed her elbow where the younger woman had bumped into her. “See what you’ve done?” She glared at Veronica who immediately dropped to her knees and began gathering up the items. Julian knelt down to help.

Veronica claimed the articles that belonged to her, at one point exclaiming, “My belly button ring. I thought it was gone forever.” She shoved the tiny hoop in her tote bag. With everyone’s help, all of the items were returned to their respective places. Once everything was cleaned up, Rory dropped the keys she was returning in the lost-and-found box, and Arika tucked it safely away under the counter.

No sooner had they finished when the students for the evening’s class began to arrive. Julian excused himself to head out to a meeting. Nora grabbed the bottle of varnish off the counter and accompanied her students into the classroom.

Before Veronica could leave, Rory drew the young woman aside. “What was Julian so mad about?”

Veronica shook her head. “I can’t...” She raced out the door before Rory could ask any more questions. Rory rushed after the distraught woman, determined to find out why Veronica had been spying on her house but, when she looked outside, the young woman was nowhere to be seen.