Fatal Brushstroke (An Aurora Anderson Mystery Book 1) (7 page)

Chapter 11

The next morning, Rory and Liz traveled north on Pacific Coast Highway toward Malibu, an hour’s drive north of Vista Beach, accompanied by what seemed like half the population of Los Angeles County. They’d given themselves an hour and a half to get to Hester’s service but, even with the extra padding, Rory worried they wouldn’t arrive on time.

As Rory maneuvered her sedan through the steady stream of traffic, the two young women discussed how many people would be at the memorial service they were about to attend and if the murderer would be among them.

A few bends down the road, Liz cried, “Watch out!” A young couple carrying beach towels and a six-pack sized cooler held hands as they darted across the highway in front of the car.

Rory slowed down to avoid hitting the reckless pedestrians. “I didn’t expect this much traffic. I hope we’re not late.”

Liz consulted her watch. “Don’t worry, we’ll be there in plenty of time.”

Rory twisted in her seat, trying to stop her above-the-knee skirt from turning into a micro-mini while driving. After vetoing the khakis and dark blue blazer Rory had planned on wearing, Liz had pulled out her extensive phone list and found someone who owned a dark-colored suit Rory could borrow. Rory appreciated the loan, but the skirt was a bit shorter than she was used to.

For the next several miles, Liz commented on the age and market value of the houses they passed. As they neared Malibu city limits, she pointed to a two-story mission-style structure on the inland side of the highway. “That one reminds me of Granny Griswold’s place. What do you think she was doing up at three a.m. the night Hester was killed?”

Rory suspected her elderly neighbor didn’t sleep very well. At least once a week, she saw lights on inside Mrs. Griswold’s home in the wee hours of the morning. “Maybe her arthritis was bothering her.”

“Lucky it was, I guess. Otherwise she wouldn’t have spotted that car.”

Rory first heard about the suspicious vehicle the evening before when her neighbor stopped by to report on what she had seen the night of the murder. When Rory asked if the police knew about the car, Mrs. Griswold had said she’d left a number of messages—based on past experience Rory suspected they numbered in the double digits—but no one had bothered to return the calls. Something told her Detective Green wouldn’t be hearing from his neighborhood informant any time soon.

“I’m not sure her description was detailed enough to be helpful. She only saw the car when it tripped Mrs. Maldonado’s motion-sensor light at the end of the block,” Rory said.

“We should still check out the cars at the service to see if one of them matches her description.”

“There must be dozens of light-colored sedans out there. We don’t even know if it had anything to do with Hester’s murder.”

“A strange car appears near your house in the wee hours of the morning on the night someone dumps a body in your garden and you don’t think they’re related?”

“It probably belonged to someone on the block and Mrs. Griswold didn’t recognize it.”

“She’s the Neighborhood Watch block captain. She probably knows the make, model, license plate, and odometer reading of every car your neighbors own.”

Given Mrs. Griswold’s enthusiasm for her position, Rory had to admit that was probably only a slight exaggeration.

When they reached their turnoff, Rory headed up the twisty canyon road at a fast clip, easing off on the accelerator when she heard a whimper coming from the passenger side of the vehicle. She glanced over at Liz who had closed her eyes and appeared to be mouthing a silent prayer. By the time they reached the pocket of houses where Hester had lived, Liz had loosened her white-knuckle grip on the armrest and shed all other signs of terror.

As she searched for a parking space, Rory felt as if she’d stumbled upon a convention of nondescript silver sedans. Without a distinguishing characteristic, any one of them could have been the vehicle her neighbor had seen the night of Hester’s murder. Several hundred yards beyond the Mediterranean-style house Hester had treasured, Rory slid into a parking space.

Liz was out of the vehicle almost before the car had stopped. Rory slipped on her heels and, after a few tentative steps to get used to the unaccustomed balancing act, followed her eager passenger up the stairs to the terrace where a sea of chairs was filling up fast. In her three-inch pumps, Rory towered over most people including Detective Green who, looking even grumpier than usual, nodded as he passed by them. She waved to her mother who was sitting with Veronica in the row behind Hester’s family. Kevin slouched in his seat and, from the hostile looks he shot at his father, she could tell Hester’s son resented being there.

As they made their way to seats near the back, Rory intercepted several curious glances cast in her direction. Nora waved shyly at them as they passed by her row. Draped around the woman’s shoulders was a hand-painted scarf held together by a wooden pin shaped like a rose. Rory remembered seeing the scarf design in Hester’s first pattern book.

Not long after they sat down, the minister stepped to the front, signaling the beginning of the service. Rory scrunched down in her seat so the people behind her could see. When she lifted her head after the opening prayer, she noticed Detective Green observing the group from a position near the back of the terrace.

Throughout the hour-long service a respectful silence fell over the crowd, punctuated by the occasional sob or sniffle. The grief became more pronounced during a particularly heartfelt remembrance by one of Hester’s fellow docents at a local art museum. Rory found herself dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a tissue she pulled out of a borrowed clutch.

At the end of the service, Julian thanked everyone for attending and directed the guests to one side of the terrace while the catering staff whisked away the rows of chairs and set up the food for the reception. By the time Rory and Liz had paid their respects to Hester’s family, chairs dotted the perimeter of a large open area and the waiters were circulating with plates of hors d’oeuvres.

“You know, Julian wears suits that come from Donald Trump’s signature collection,” Liz said in a low voice to Rory as they joined the line at the bar.

Veronica stood in front of them, jotting something down on a small pad of paper. Dressed all in black, she’d shed her casual attire and covered up her belly button ring. She’d even changed the streaks of color in her black hair to a more subdued blue. A sudden breeze wafted her perfume in their direction: an explosion of flowers with a slight undertone of nicotine.

“Since when are you interested in Donald Trump?” Rory asked Liz.

“I’ve read all his books. They have lots of good advice in them.”

Veronica put her notebook in her purse and turned to face them. “I understand Julian’s a great fan of Trump, also.”

“That was a nice piece you did on Hester in the paper,” Rory said to the aspiring reporter as the line moved forward.

“You saw it?” Veronica blushed at the compliment. “I think it’s some of my best work.”

“You had a story in the
View
?” Liz asked.

“Almost the entire front page was devoted to coverage of Hester’s death including the obituary Veronica wrote,” Rory replied, a little surprised Liz hadn’t seen the articles since she usually read the weekly newspaper from cover-to-cover the day it came out.

“Sorry I missed it. It’s been a busy week. Haven’t had time to read the paper yet,” Liz said.

“Did you hear?” Veronica leaned forward and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Chief Marshall’s on the warpath. He threatened to take Detective Green off the case if he didn’t come up with results...fast.”

No wonder the detective looked so cranky. Rory felt sorry for him. She knew from personal experience how unpleasant it was to be on the receiving end of the chief’s wrath. “What do you know about Detective Green? I heard his last job was at a very corrupt police department.”

Veronica nodded. “A half dozen officers were arrested, but he was never accused of taking bribes. In fact, I heard he helped bring the corruption to light.”

Moments later, they reached the front of the line. Veronica ordered a Perrier from the bartender. While she waited, she said, “I hear the chief’s talking about taking over the investigation himself. That didn’t work out very well for you last time, did it?” She looked pointedly in Rory’s direction.

Rory nervously checked around to see if the police chief had materialized on the terrace. She turned back, satisfied Detective Green remained the only member of the Vista Beach police department at the service.

“Don’t worry, he’s not here...yet. But the mayor is. I want to catch her before she leaves. Maybe she’ll give me a short interview.” As soon as her drink was ready, Veronica said a quick good-bye and headed into the crowd.

Rory looked around for a glimpse of the Vista Beach city official, but got sidetracked by the sight of Kevin tossing back shots in the company of a pair of giggling blondes. Hester’s son certainly had a way with the ladies.

Even though they’d only recently met him, Rory had already seen him with three different women. She wondered how many more girlfriends he had waiting in the wings.

Rory had never mastered the art of juggling multiple boyfriends herself, though one of her college roommates had dated three men at the same time. To Rory’s amazement, the young woman had not only kept her dates straight but also kept them from finding out about each other. Maybe Kevin was doing the same thing.

“I don’t think you have to worry about the chief today. I heard he wasn’t coming,” Liz said to Rory after they’d ordered. “Doesn’t want to answer all of those pesky questions about the murder and what he’s doing to keep the city safe.”

A wave of relief washed over Rory when she heard the news.

After getting their sodas, the two young women joined Arika and Nora who were standing near the carving station. Nora’s gaze darted around the terrace, not resting on one spot for long, checking to see if anything needed her attention.

“...should have done everything differently. I’m not sure it’s worthy of Hester,” Nora said as they walked up.

“Nonsense. It was a lovely service. Don’t you agree?” Arika appealed to the two newcomers with her eyes.

“Absolutely,” Rory was quick to respond. “You’ve done a wonderful job organizing this on such short notice. Must have been a lot of work.” Liz nodded her agreement.

Nora mumbled her thanks, but a worried look soon returned to her face. “I hope there’s enough food.”

Rory followed Nora’s gaze to the tables heavily-laden with all kinds of delicious-looking dishes from salads to side dishes to entrees, including the meat station near them where a chef was carving roast beef and ham to order. “I don’t think you have to worry about that. Looks like there’s enough to feed an army.” Rory tore her gaze away from the food and tried not to think about how hungry she was. “Who’s minding the store, Mom?”

“I closed it for the service. Not sure how wise that was given the current state of the alarm.”

“I thought it was fixed,” Liz said.

“Kevin swore you wouldn’t have any more problems,” Rory added.

“That’s what I thought until I got a call in the wee hours of the morning.”

“Another false alarm?”

Arika nodded. “I’m afraid so. I’ve given up on Vista Beach Security. They’ve had more than enough opportunities to fix the problem.”

“Now we know why Kevin doesn’t work for his father. He’s incompetent,” Liz whispered so only Rory could hear.

“H & J Security is very reliable. Jul—Mr. Bouquet—will even pay any fines you incur in the unlikely event a false alarm occurs with his system. If you’d like, I can schedule an appointment for Monday. I’ll give you top priority,” Nora said.

“That’s very thoughtful. Call me at the store later today and give me the details.” Arika turned to her daughter. “Rory, I could use your help. I want to do a tribute to Hester on the store’s website. Maybe feature her new book.”

Rory nodded, already mentally redesigning the site to accommodate her mother’s wishes.

Liz turned to Nora whose lips had begun to quiver at the mention of the tribute. “You must have seen Hester’s new book. What’s it like?”

A tear trickled down Nora’s face.

Up until now, the responsibility of keeping the service running smoothly seemed to have kept Nora from springing a leak every time her mentor’s name was mentioned. Rory rummaged around in her purse for a clean tissue, but discovered she’d used them all up herself during the service. She plucked a napkin from a tray carried by a passing waiter and handed it to the crying woman.

Nora murmured her thanks and took off her glasses to wipe the tears from her eyes. While she regained her composure, the group chatted about the new merchandise Arika had bought for her store, being careful not to mention Hester’s name.

They were discussing the latest line of DecoArt paints when Arika spotted someone waving at her from across the terrace. “Excuse me, Fern’s calling. Agatha must be talking about her latest health kick. You can only hear so much about the benefits of a good colon cleansing. Give my best to your mother, Elizabeth.” Arika patted Nora on the arm before heading off to rescue her friend.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group. Rory was searching for a new topic of conversation when Nora said, “Did you read the nice article about Hester in the paper?”

“I didn’t realize how many activities she was involved in,” Rory said.

“She tried to get me to become a docent at the art museum.” Nora sniffled but managed to keep her composure. “I couldn’t talk in front of all those people and give those tours, though. Hester was so good at that...and so giving.”

“More like a cutthroat bitch.”

Even though the words were slurred, Rory still recognized the voice. As she glanced behind her to confirm her suspicions, she whispered to Liz, “Did he just call his mother the b-word?”

Kevin staggered forward, carrying a half-full glass of a brown liquid that looked and smelled like whiskey. He squeezed himself between Rory and Liz, draping his left arm around Liz’s shoulder and attempting to place his right arm over Rory’s much higher shoulder.

Rory stepped aside at the same time that Liz shrugged free. Kevin stumbled, spilling his drink all over the ground.

“That’s enough! I’m cutting you off!” Julian appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and grabbed the glass out of his son’s hand. Trudy hovered in the background, a worried look on her face.

“Just because you’re a hypocrite doesn’t mean I have to be.” Kevin bowed to the group. “Ladies.”

As Julian led his son away, Trudy stepped forward and said, “You’ll have to excuse my godson. He’s distraught with grief.”