Summer Reading is Killing Me (Phee Jefferson Book 2) (13 page)

BOOK: Summer Reading is Killing Me (Phee Jefferson Book 2)
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chapter twenty seven

 

Juliet and I parked in front of Stone Street
Gallery. The heat of the afternoon sun reflected off the windows of the building.
I opened the door and enjoyed the rush of cool air as it washed over me. Juliet
and I walked in and looked for Nicolette. The gallery had the same quiet
stillness I associated with museums.

“Hello. Can I help you?” A young man stepped out
from behind the front desk to greet us.

“Is Nicolette around? I wanted to look at some
paintings she told me she recently acquired,” I said. I looked around at the
paintings gracing the stark white walls.

“She’s gone to run a few errands, then she’s off
to meet with the artist Jay Burns. He’s offering us the chance to sell two of
his final paintings. I’m so excited, I could burst!” He clapped his hands
together in excitement and gave a little hop.

“No wonder you’re excited. That will give the
gallery great exposure,” Juliet said.

“You aren’t kidding.
Nic
and I’ve been running around like crazy trying to make sure the gallery is in
tip-top shape for when we highlight his pieces. Oh, gracious. I’m being rude.
I’m Kevin.” He held his hand out to shake mine.

“You look familiar. Weren’t you a year or two
behind me in school?” Juliet asked, squinting at him. “Kevin Ratcliff! I knew I
recognized you. It’s so good to see you. I thought you moved away.”

“I did, but the lake and this community have
always been my muse,” Kevin said. “I came back to do a series of wood carvings
inspired by the wildlife in the area. I work here part-time for Nic.”

“The gallery looks great,” I said, making a show
of admiring the space. “Could you point us in the direction of the paintings
Nic
was telling me about? They were painted by
Elody
Campbell. I wanted a chance to see them after
Nic
gushed over how talented she was. Such a waste.”

Kevin shook his shaggy head in sympathy, “It’s
terrible. She showed some serious talent. Too bad she copied another artist’s
style.”

“Whose style did she copy?” Juliet asked.

“Jay Burns, of course. It’s understandable. They
were in a relationship and probably shared a studio. I’m sure he mentored and
encouraged her. Some artists have a hard time moving from mimic to master.
Elody
was still in the infant stages of her art career,”
Kevin said. “I can show you her paintings though. They are in the back since we
planned to wrap them up this afternoon. Her father came in and bought all of
them.”

“It’s understandable he’d want his daughter’s art.
It gives him something to remember her,” Juliet said sagely.

Kevin took us to a workroom in the back and
steered us towards a long table. Three paintings rested atop it. I moved in and
examined
Elody’s
art. Her work was amazing. The water
scene that lay in front of me practically made me smell the ocean and hear the
waves crashing against the rocky shore as gulls screamed above the water.

“She really had talent,” I said. “Is it okay if I
pick this painting up and examine it closer?”

“Just be careful,” Kevin said.

“Kevin, my sister works with rare books and is
used to working with objects that need special handling. I’ll vouch for her,”
Juliet said. “Can you show me some of the pieces around here? Are any of your
carvings at the gallery?” Juliet tucked her arm into his and led him towards
the front. Glancing over her shoulder, she winked at me. Message received.

I quickly picked up the painting in front of me
and examined it closely. These paintings had the same distinct brush stroke her
father showed me. I turned the painting over. On the back was a paper with
Elody’s
name, the title of the painting and a date from
over four years ago. I wondered if that was the date the piece was completed.
Curious, I examined the other two paintings on the table. Each was dated close
to four years ago. These paintings must have been ones she finished prior to
her mother’s death. According to the gossip columns I found,
Elody
and Jay had been dating almost a year. She hadn’t
imitated him. It appeared that the exact opposite was true. That must be why
she accused him of being a hack. I leaned closer and examined the paintings
again. All three were definitely by the same artist. I saw a small EC painted
in the far right corner of each –
Elody
Campbell.

“Kevin, you are still a hoot,” Juliet said loudly
as they strolled back to where I stood.

“Juliet, I hate to tear you away, but I’ve got to
return to work before Wade thinks I’m never coming back,” I said. “Thank you
for showing me these paintings. They are stunning.”

“Anytime. Come back and see us when we acquire
Jay’s pieces.”

Juliet and I hurried back to her car. As she drove
me to the library, I told her what I’d found. “So I think Jay Burns imitated
Elody’s
painting style and made money off of it,” I
concluded.

“Jay could’ve used
Elody’s
contacts to help jumpstart his career even if he wasn’t that talented. She had
connections to wealthy families and art collectors across the state. Why would
he need to imitate her style?”

“I’m not sure, but those paintings were dated
prior to the start of their relationship. I could be wrong, but we should dig a
little deeper into Jay’s sudden skyrocket to fame,” I said. “If I’m right, it
happened at the same time he met
Elody
. She was
already on the outs with her dad. Her relationship with Jay slammed shut the
family’s coffers and its connections.”

“While you’re pushing books on unsuspecting
children and parents, I’ll get online at the library and search through the
newspaper archives. I’ll see what I can discover on our mysteriously talented
Jay,” Juliet said. “My investigative  skills go from boardroom to keyboard
in the blink of an eye.”

“Oh, sheesh! Give it a rest with the bad cop
lingo,” I laughed.

“Just
keepin
’ it real
and
keepin
’ our suspect in the crosshairs.” Juliet
slipped a pair of mirrored sunglasses on and began to sing at the top of her
lungs, “Bad boys, bad boys,
whatchoo
gonna
do?
Whatchoo
gonna
do when
Phee
comes for
you?”

I sank lower in the seat of the convertible and
prayed no one could hear her. Thank goodness the ride to the library was short
and her tune ended before we arrived.

 

chapter twenty eight

 

 Juliet and I parted ways once inside the
library. She went to the bank of computers along our back wall to get the
skinny on our
skeevy
artist. I headed to the
children’s area to help Matt Grayson choose books. He only read science fiction
and had consumed most of my newer books. I helped him locate some older books
that caught his interest, then spent several minutes straightening the shelves
and picking up board books strewn across the floor by easily distracted
toddlers.

I took over the circulation desk for Wade so he
could stretch his legs. Since being fitted for artificial limbs, he made a
point to move more often and keep his thigh muscles limber. It also helped to
toughen the scarred skin where the knees fitted to the artificial limbs. I was
focused on checking in a large stack of recently returned books when I heard a
quiet cough. Tessa Brewer stood in front of me. Startled at her sudden
appearance, I snapped, “Can I help you?”

“I came to tell you I’m sorry. I acted like a
common thief sneaking through your backyard. It was unprofessional and uncalled
for and I want to apologize,” Tessa said.

“You’re lucky I didn’t call the police.” I glared
across the desk at her. I didn’t entirely believe her apology. Realizing I lied
to her during our previous run-in at the park, I reigned in my anger and
adopted a simpering tone. “Not that I would have actually called them once I
realized it was you. It was actually pretty exciting to know a big time
reporter like you wanted to talk to me.” I almost batted my eyelashes at her,
but stopped the impulse in time.

“Can I ask you a few questions about discovering
Elody
?”

The snake moved in for the strike just like I knew
she would. “I don’t know anything more than what Sheriff Dawes said in his
press conference. I wish I could be more help to you.”

“Why were you in the park at daybreak? Isn’t that
a little odd?” Tessa leaned across the circulation desk and fixed me with an
intense stare.

I gave a fake little giggle. “Oh gosh. You don’t
understand the work that goes into setting up a book sale. I arrived early to
set up tables and unload boxes.
Elody
had been dead
awhile before I arrived. It was awful.”

“Interesting. So you got a good look at the body?”

Her pushy questions made me uncomfortable. I could
see how she would be a good reporter though. Her direct, in-your-face questions
made me feel like a suspect under the heat lamps. “I had a brief glimpse. I
realized right away that she was dead, so I went back to my van and called the
police.” I shrugged and adopted a vacant look.

“No evidence of who killed her? Nothing?” Tessa
practically lay across the top of the desk as she peppered me with questions.

“Nope,” I shook my head. “I’m sorry, but I need to
help Mrs. Short.” I looked over her shoulder at Mrs. Short who stood behind
Tessa with a stack of books. Tessa looked annoyed, but stepped aside. She
turned and wandered off.

“I could’ve waited, but you looked like a kitten
cornered by a big dog. I figured I’d rescue you,” Mrs. Short whispered.

“Thanks. She’s one of the reporters camped out
while they investigate the murder. I hope the police solve it so they’ll all
crawl back under their rocks.”

“Amen. I could barely find a parking spot this
morning.” Ann Short worked as a nurse at our small medical clinic.

I finished checking out her books and after
chatting about the possibility of Founder’s Day being rescheduled,  I told
her I’d talk to her later. I opened up the drawer next to the computer to grab
a fresh roll of receipt tape for our date due printer. As I pulled out the
tape, I realized I had ink all over my fingers. Glancing in the drawer, I found
that a pen had exploded. Ink was everywhere. “Dang. Glad I didn’t wear white
pants,” I grumbled. “Wade, can you watch the desk for a minute? I’ve got ink
all over me, and I need to wash it off. Can you grab something to clean this
mess up, too? Thanks.”

I hurried into the ladies room. I scrubbed my
hands under the water and the water went from blue to clear after a few
minutes. As I dried my hands, a stall door opened and Tessa stepped out. “Oh,
hello,” she said. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to ask you any questions.” 

“It’s okay. Can I ask you a few?” Since I had her
in front of me, it couldn’t hurt to turn the tables. “Like I said before, I
read all of your columns. I can tell you covered all the news about
Elody
, but what do you know about her boyfriend, Jay Burns?
I met him at the lake yesterday. What a sweetie. He seemed heartbroken over
Elody’s
murder.”

Tessa had been applying a bright red lipstick in
the mirror, but at my mention of Jay, her hand paused. She smacked her lips
together and closed her lipstick tube. Taking her time, she opened her purse
and dropped the tube in. She snapped the purse shut with an angry motion and it
tipped over. The contents rolled across the counter. With a snort of annoyance,
she swept up the spilled items to push them back in. When she did, I saw the
butt of a gun sticking out. I suppressed a gasp. I leaned towards the mirror
and pretended to fluff my curls.

“Jay is a talented artist. I discovered him
painting outside one day while
Elody
gadded about
with her groupies playing volleyball. I managed to strike up a conversation
with him. After he showed me a few more pieces, I offered to show them to an
art critic friend at the paper. One thing led to another and now he’s getting
the credit he deserves. It’s unfortunate that he’s decided to give up painting
because of
Elody’s
death.”

“Maybe your coverage of the club scene wasn’t a
total waste of your amazing writing talent,” I cooed. “You launched Jay’s
career. If he makes it as an actor, he’ll remember you and return the favor.”

“Oh, I think I can predict that Jay and I will
cross paths again in the future,” Tessa said mysteriously. “I’d better run. If
there isn’t a break in the case soon, I’m going to jet out of this one horse
town and head back to the city. I need to go nose around at the sheriff’s
office and see if there’s an update. Sorry again about last night.” She picked
her purse up off of the counter and slung it across her shoulder. As the door
eased slowly shut behind her, I sucked in a deep breath and calmed my nerves. I
couldn’t believe she carried a gun. She did live in the city which had more
crime, but it still shocked me. I’m glad she didn’t have her purse with her
last night when she crept through my yard. As I flashed back to the previous
evening, a thought dawned. Tessa didn’t have anything on her last night. For
someone who hoped to take a picture of me, shouldn’t she have carried a camera?
I bit my lip and realized we needed to look deeper into the lives of both Jay
and Tessa.

I exited the restroom and hurried over to Juliet.
“Holy tuna fish rotting in the sun! Tessa Brewer’s got a gun!”

“What? Are you pulling my leg? What’s a reporter
doing packing heat? Maybe she shoots more than candid camera shots.”

“She came here under the pretense of apologizing
for last night, but then she tried to weasel information out of me. She claims
she discovered Jay,” I said and sat down in the chair next to Juliet.

“She was the first reporter to write about him,”
Juliet said. She clicked on a link and showed me an article she’d found. “I
found something else you might find of interest.”

She opened another page that was an in-depth
article about Jay by Phil Padgett, style editor. When I finished reading it, I
leaned back and stared at Juliet in shock. Jay Burns had lived in the same
small Arkansas town as Tessa until his family moved when he was ten. I shifted
from Miss
Marple
mode to Sherlock Holmes and examined
the evidence Juliet and I uncovered thus far. “Everything in this world is
relative, my dear Juliet.”

“You’re not kidding. It’s a small world after
all.”

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