Upstate Uproar (29 page)

“I need a snack,” Kate said. “Can we go?”

Wendy dug in her borrowed purse and pulled
out a granola bar. “I brought this in case of emergency.”

Kate took it gratefully. “Thank you!”

They piled into the elevator, and again,
Vivian’s ears popped as they changed elevation quickly. They took
the same seating arrangements on the chair lift going down, and
Vivian snapped pictures with her new phone, including a shot of
Lucy and Pierre snuggling in front of her and a selfie.
I need
to get more sleep! I have bags under my eyes!
She threw on her
sunglasses and took another picture.
That’s better!

They hit the restroom and grabbed a drink
before leaving. April wasn’t in sight and another lady was behind
the register.

They got into the SUV and Kate drove out of
the gate and down the road toward Main Street. She cruised through
town to Mike Grimm’s studio, situated on the shore of Mirror Lake.
The girls and Pierre got out and walked up to the door. A sign
saying “Come around back” hung in the window.

The group found four tables set up with
easels and canvases along the edge of the lake. A group of women
ranging in age from 20 to 70 worked on replicating the original
artwork. Mike looked very beatnik wearing all black, hand resting
on his chin, as he walked behind the painters and stopped to give
pointers.

“Welcome,” he called and waved the five of
them toward a table loaded with bottles of wine and a platter of
cheese and crackers. “Join us for the Mirror Images painting class.
I’ve got extra easels and canvases.” He ran toward the back of the
studio. “Get a drink. I’ll be right back.”

Vivian didn’t want to stay for a painting
class, but she knew they couldn’t just barge in and start asking
questions about Mary Beth and April. Her eyes landed on the
shopkeeper from You Name It, Mary Beth’s cousin, who had an empty
seat and easel beside her. She nodded toward the cousin and said to
Pierre and the girls, “This sounds like fun, we should stay.”

Kate’s gaze drifted over the group of
lakeside painters and settled on the cousin and the empty seat
beside her. “I’m in. I need something to hang in Little Plum’s room
anyway.”

Pierre groaned and took a step backward. Lucy
hooked her arm through his and reached up to give him a kiss. He
smiled as he leaned down to her. “You’re going to have to make this
up to me. It’s insulting to my manhood.”

Lucy’s eyes narrowed. “We’re here to gain
information. You can tough it out.” She laughed and led him to the
table behind Vivian.

Kate and Wendy sat beside them and Mike ran
out of his studio with set-ups for the girls and Pierre. Mike gave
them instructions on getting started, and Kate immediately picked
up her brush. She looked at the original artwork, a stormy sky,
then started mixing colors and placing a few brush strokes across
her canvas. Mike moved on, checking the other painters.

Wendy looked from Kate, to her plate of
paint, to the original and back. She picked up her brush. “Here
goes nothing.”

Vivian grabbed a glass of white wine and
settled in next to Mary Beth’s cousin. “I bought some souvenirs
from you a couple of days ago.”

She glanced at Vivian. “I remember you. You
had the snoring friend in the teepee. I see you’re not dead yet.
How are things going at Turlington Farms?” She put emphasis on
Turlington.

“Going fine, Brandon hasn’t tried to kill
us.” Vivian dabbed a bit of white into her black, then held out her
hand and introduced herself. “What’s your name?”

“Christine. How’s that bitch Tracy treating
you?”

V
ivian could see how
Tracy wasn’t the warmest person and how the people in town wouldn’t
think too highly of her being married to Brandon. Turlington Farms
survived based solely on tourists, not locals. She dabbed yellow
onto her work of art, then turned to Christine. “She can cook, I’ll
give her that. She’s fixed a lot more than breakfast for us.”

Christine snorted. “She trapped Brandon, ya
know. Not that I care, he deserves every bit of hell on this earth
that’s coming to him, but I don’t care much for Tracy.”

Vivian stopped working on her background.
“What do you mean ‘trapped’?”

“She said she was pregnant. They got married
shortly thereafter.”

“Oh no. Did she miscarry?”

Christine worked on her tree. “I don’t have
any proof, but if I had to guess, I’d say she faked it.”

Vivian dabbed at her canvas, working on the
stormy sky. She coughed a few times at Christine’s statement. “That
shouldn’t surprise me, but it does. Wow. That’s stooping low to get
married.”

Christine stopped painting and leaned in
close. “Tracy wanted him since high school. I was two years behind
them in school, and I remember. She was heartbroken when he broke
up with her, took her a long time to recover. Then she started
dating Scott, and she seemed happy.”

“Who was Scott? The plumber who ran off to
Omaha or wherever?”

Christine laughed and had a sip of wine. “The
butt-crack-jeans plumber. He was never going to marry her. She
eventually figured it out, and next thing you know, he moved
off.”

“Why wasn’t he going to marry her?” Vivian
asked, wondering what happened in Tracy’s past to make her fake a
pregnancy just to get married. She’d have to be pretty desperate.
But then, in Vivian’s experience, marriage was overrated.

“He slept with every girl who came along. Any
opportunity that presented itself, boom, he was on it. He wasn’t
the kind you settle down with and raise a family.”

Vivian lowered her paint brush, feeling sorry
for Tracy. Being cheated on was the pits, and to stay in a
relationship where that continually happened, she just couldn’t
imagine it.
That’d make me a bitch, too.

Mike swung by and looked over Vivian’s
shoulder. Vivian worked on highlighting the leaves, then set down
her paintbrush and picked up her wine. She had a sip and then
another, and decided her tree highlighted by a blue moon was as
good as it was going to get.

She clinked glasses with Christine. “To a job
well done. Sort of.”

Lucy showed off her painting, which did
indeed look like a mirror image of the original. She set it down
and picked up Pierre’s painting. “A kindergartener could do
better.” She rubbed his bald head, then kissed it. “But you’ve got
other talents.”

Wendy rolled her eyes and showed them her
painting. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. What was
supposed to be a tree didn’t resemble a tree, and her blue moon was
more purple than blue, and not quite round.

Pierre gave her a high five. “I see you’re as
talented as I am.”

Wendy glanced at her painting and then back
at Pierre. “I feel bad I wasted this paint and canvas!”

The group of ladies had started to get up and
compare pieces, so the girls and Pierre made their way to Mike’s
studio. It was a one-room shop with a desk in a front corner and
paintings lining the walls. Mike was in deep conversation with a
fifty something bottle blonde who had her hand on his shoulder. He
took a step back as he nodded toward his painting she was
admiring.

“He looks like he needs saving,” Kate said
and wandered over. “Do you mind if I use your restroom?” she asked
him.

He flashed a smile and pointed her in the
right direction.

Vivian slowly walked past a couple of
paintings that appeared to be a sequence. All were stormy skies
with a non-descript person holding their face in an agonizing
scream. She went up to Mike, who was still being held captive in
conversation.

She lightly touched his elbow. “Sorry to
interrupt. I’d like to find a painting for my son’s room. Can you
show me around?”

Mike’s bright blue eyes sparkled, and he
flashed a smile of relief. “Excuse me, Carrie.” He walked to a
closed door and pushed through it, waving to Vivian to follow.
“I’ve got my tamer pieces back here.”

Vivian followed him into the storeroom, where
Mike had almost covered the walls with paintings of various sizes.
Some resembled the stormy, screaming person, others were of vines
climbing toward a dark sky, and others were of dragons big and
small, scary and not so much, breathing fire and yet some with
lopsided grins.

Wendy walked in. “Why don’t you have more of
these displayed?”

Mike shrugged and gave a grin, similar to his
dragons. “I want to show off my best pieces and not clutter the
front.”

Vivian looked over his dragons. “These are
really good.” She took one off the wall, a dragon perched on a
castle wall, its claws breaking into the rock, with a town in the
distance. “I’ll get this one for Ben. He’ll love it.”

Vivian turned to show Mike the piece she
wanted, but her eyes landed on a painting just behind him and she
couldn’t speak. A chill went through her.

Tall evergreen trees lined a lake and
reflected on the surface. The night sky twinkled with lights; fog
rose up off the water. A woman shrouded in white floated in the
middle of the lake, her face turned from the viewer. The stillness
made it clear: She had drowned.

By now, Kate had joined them. “I noticed a
framed picture in the hallway back there of you and a young woman,”
she said. “She’s beautiful. Who is that?”

Mike glanced at the painting behind him, then
smiled at Kate. “An old friend who passed away.”

Kate returned his smile. “I’m so sorry to
hear that. Were you close?”

Vivian cut her eyes to Wendy, who had also
noticed the painting. Lucy and Pierre stepped into the storage room
and Vivian looked at them, then to the wall behind Mike. Lucy
sucked in a quick breath, then started coughing to cover it up.

Kate looked back and forth between Mike and
the painting of the drowned woman. “Is this painting of your
friend?”

“Yes, it’s how I envisioned Mary Beth.”

The small storeroom seemed to close in on
Vivian. She needed out of there, and away from Mike. She held up
the painting for Ben. “I want to get this, because uhmm, we need to
go. How much is it?”

Mike turned from Mary Beth’s painting to
Vivian. “I’ll give it to you for $30. Let me get my Square and ring
you up.”

He walked out of the room and Vivian mouthed
to Pierre and the girls, “Oh my god, it’s Mary Beth.”

Mike walked back in and looked at his
visitors. “Is everything fine in here? You seem like you’ve seen a
ghost.”

Vivian handed him her credit card.
I
wonder if I’m doing business with a killer
.

Pierre led Lucy and Kate out of the small
room and Wendy lingered in the doorway as Mike swiped Vivian’s
card. Thankfully, the Square reader worked on the first try.

Mike had Vivian sign the receipt on his phone
with her finger and said, “I hope your son enjoys the
painting.”

Vivian shoved her credit card into her purse
and walked toward the door. “Thanks, I’m sure he will.” She walked
into the main gallery and toward the front door where Pierre, Lucy
and Kate stood waiting. “We gotta get back, see you around.”

Mike looked at everyone, then back to Vivian,
eyebrows raised in question. He tapped his right index finger
against the side of his leg. “Sure. Float – I mean swing on by
anytime.”

V
ivian practically
fled Mike Grimm’s gallery, glad to be out of there, especially
since night was falling. His demeanor was odd, and the painting of
Mary Beth’s drowning had unnerved her. Kate unlocked the door on
their rental, and once they were all safely inside, Vivian said,
“Did y’all see that painting? Can you believe it?”

Kate started the engine. “Grandpa was right
to be suspicious of Mike. That painting was eerie. It could be his
way of bragging about what he’d done.”

Pierre rode shotgun for a change and turned
to Kate. “Why wouldn’t he have that painting in the main gallery
where it’s more visible?”

“It might upset the locals,” was all Kate
could say.

“He’ll never sell that painting,” Wendy said.
“He doesn’t need to have it displayed in the main gallery. He knows
where it is. I bet he goes back there and looks at it a hundred
times a day.”

Vivian shivered, not liking the idea of Mike
getting pleasure from killing Mary Beth. She glanced at the time on
her phone. “We’re supposed to meet Larson in 30 minutes at Lake
Placid Brewery. Why don’t we head on over there, unless anyone has
another stop to make.”

No one did, so Kate, now an expert with
directions in town, drove them to the brewery. She parked and
turned off the car. “Could April be in trouble dating Mike?”

Vivian opened her car door. “I think we need
to talk to Larson. He’s local and might have a good perspective on
all of this.”

The girls and Pierre walked into the rustic
Adirondack building and grabbed a long table off to the side of the
bar. Everyone had a beer except Kate, although she said she’d like
one at this point. The group went over possibilities and potential
suspects until Larson arrived.

He sat on the bench beside Vivian and greeted
her with a kiss. “Good to see you.”

She squeezed his leg and left her hand there.
“I’m glad you’re off tonight so we could get together.”

His smile faded a bit. “I’m on call, but
let’s hope our citizens don’t start any fires tonight.”

The waitress came by to take Larson’s order,
but her smile faded when she noticed Vivian’s hand on his leg. He
ordered a cup of hot tea since he was on call, and the waitress
quickly returned and set the cup down with a clatter.

Vivian waited for her to walk off before
turning her attention back to Larson. “Speaking of Lake Placid’s
fine citizens, we’d like to talk to you about a few of them.”