Out of the Picture

by Tracy Gardner

  He looked surprised. “You were?”

  She nodded. “She has me doing a mural. We were going over details. It was pretty awful. Caroline was so upset.”

  “She’s been through a lot the past year or so. Losing my grandfather took its toll on her. And now her own medical issues are cropping up.” Jack spoke haltingly.

  Savanna frowned. “She mentioned that. She’s always seemed so strong. I really hope she’s all right.” She reminded herself that they didn’t really know each other. He was Lauren’s cousin, a few years her senior, and had gone away to school when Savanna was still young.

  “Anyway,” he said, “thank you for being there. I’m glad she wasn’t alone when it happened.”

  Savanna shuddered. “Oh, yes. I’m glad too. She’s very special to me and my sisters. I was supposed to start the mural tonight, but I think I’ll wait until after the funeral.”

  “Good idea. She isn’t quite herself. I’ll be checking on her and so will Lauren.”

  “Give her my love, please. Let me know if there is anything I can do.” Savanna touched Jack’s arm, wanting him to know she meant it. She’d do anything to help Caroline.

  “Will do,” he said, heading back into the building.

  Jack Carson was sure tough to read. Caroline had two children—Elizabeth and Thomas—seven grandchildren, and Savanna didn’t know how many great-grandchildren. Jack was an only child and belonged to Caroline’s daughter Elizabeth; Lauren was one of six children. The entire family was involved in one way or another in Everett Carson’s successful tri-state real estate development business, except for Jack, Savanna realized. What had led him into education instead? Savanna doubted she’d ever learn the story behind that decision. As nice as he was, the man seemed guarded and private. But she was glad he’d defended Caroline and put a stop to the shallow school gossip.

  Chapter Four

  Savanna and Fonzie arrived at Caroline’s house promptly after school on Thursday. She’d offered to delay the mural, as Eleanor’s funeral had been just yesterday, but Caroline wouldn’t hear of it.

  Lauren ushered Savanna into what was, once again, a busy house. She heard the hum of an electric drill or sander close by and saw she was right when they passed the grand staircase: a large, bearded man was near the top, a bucket of plaster on the step by his feet and a small electric sander in one hand. He paused, glancing down as he saw them and giving a funny little salute. He wore denim coveralls, marked with various paint colors from what must be years of projects like this one.

  Lauren gestured up the stairs. “Savanna, this is Bill Lyle, Grandmother’s neighbor. He’s helping spruce things up around here for the party next month. Bill, this is Savanna, a friend of the family.”

  Savanna waved. “You do great work. It looks amazing so far.” The spindles on the main railing were in the process of being stained and refinished, and the ones that were done gleamed. The handrail was gone, leaving the length of the stairway looking strangely bare, and Bill was patching over nicks and holes in the wall.

  He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Thanks. The boss lady keeps a close eye on me.”

  “He means Maggie, his wife,” Lauren murmured to Savanna, “not Grandmother.”

  She laughed without meaning to. “I can’t wait to see it all finished.”

  “We’ll let you get back to work. Oh! And I’ll unlock the garage for you in case you work on the handrail today,” Lauren called up the stairs. To Savanna, as they continued toward the parlor, she said, “Maggie heard we were having some work done and she volunteered her husband. I think it works out for them as well as it does for us. We know he’ll do a good job, and Grandmother wouldn’t accept his bid; she insists on paying more.”

  “Of course she does.” Savanna smiled, remembering the overpayment to Sydney for her poodles’ grooming services.

  Caroline rose from her chair, meeting Savanna halfway across the room with a hug. Fonzie and the poodles pranced around each other, reacquainting from the other day.

  Savanna drew back, looking at her. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine. All of you need to stop worrying about me. Yesterday was very sad. I’ll miss Eleanor terribly. We were lucky to have had such a long-lasting friendship. But this is part of life. Now, I want to see what you can bring out of that boring space.” She gestured at the bare wall, Savanna’s canvas. The large, ornate mirror and buffet table that had previously adorned the wall were now temporarily stored in the hallway for Bill to take out to the garage.

  Savanna shook her head, nearly rolling her eyes at the woman. Always pragmatic. “All right. I’m glad to see you’re fine.”

  She kissed Caroline on the cheek and dropped her huge, heavy bag of supplies in the corner, getting to work laying out a large, worn paint-spattered drop cloth along the wall. She pulled paints, brushes, pans, and palettes and more from the bag. Once everything was set up, she turned to find Caroline sipping tea in her wingback chair, observing.

  “Don’t mind me,” Caroline said. “I’m just fascinated. I never possessed an ounce of artistic talent. Would you like me to leave? I can go, if you feel uncomfortable.”

  Oh, boy. Savanna was not about to tell Caroline to leave her own parlor. “Nope, you’re fine! But…I normally have music on. Do you mind?” She held up her phone with earbuds plugged in.

  “My goodness, no. I would never interfere with your process.” Caroline waved a hand at her, turning toward the lake out the window and pointedly holding a book in front her face. “Pretend I’m not here.”

  Savanna laughed, choosing the Dear Evan Hansen original cast recording in her playlist and pouring her base coat into the pan. Fonzie climbed into a corner of her large, empty carrying bag, turning in one circle after another, until he settled in and closed his eyes. He was used to this now; he kept her company at Sydney’s when she was painting.

  When Savanna finally set down her brush, she realized the room was now brightly lit from ceiling lamps, and night had fallen outside. The world seemed to disappear whenever she was really immersed in a project, and so far, she was loving this one. The lower wall was primed, and she’d done the pale blue trim along the bottom, and then had sketched lightly in charcoal, laying the groundwork for the seascape, the waves, and two sailboats dotting the horizon.

  She turned, half expecting to find Caroline still watching her. The room was empty. How much time had passed? Even Fonzie had deserted her. Someone, probably Lauren, had left a plate of little sandwiches and a glass of lemonade on the side table near her bag. Savanna checked her phone, pulling the earbuds out and wrapping them up. It was almost eight p.m.! She grabbed a sandwich, ravenous, and gulped down the lemonade. Then she left her supplies, wanting to find Caroline and ask about a ladder for next time before she headed home.

  It was oddly quiet as Savanna wandered toward the front of the house. Bill Lyle had left for the day, his tools and supplies stacked neatly near the top of the staircase. The mirror and table had been cleared out of the hallway. The landscapers who’d been working outside when she’d arrived earlier were all gone now. Caroline certainly had efficient help.

  Lauren was out front with the dogs, Savanna saw through the living room window. Fonzie leaped back and forth between the poodles, and she could see they were already great friends.

  “Caroline?” She felt strange walking through the house alone. Caroline had to be there somewhere. Savanna found her in the dining room with a compact, well-dressed gentleman.

  “Savanna!” Caroline held an arm out, beckoning her in. “Here she is, my own personal fine art expert! Felix, this is Savanna Shepherd, my granddaughter in spirit. Savanna, meet Felix Thiebold, gallerist.” Caroline beamed at them both.

  Felix took Savanna’s extended hand, shaking it and then not letting go. He was quite handsome, sharply dressed in a three-piece suit, even on this warm Thursday evening. His s
ilver hair was combed back, and he wore a tasteful silver mustache. Savanna guessed him to be in his sixties. “Caroline speaks highly of you,” he said. “I understand you came from the Kenilworth Museum in Chicago?”

  “Yes, you know it?” Stupid question. Everyone knew Kenilworth. Rob’s family made certain the museum was known internationally.

  “Oh yes. Quite impressive, I must say. I helped broker a deal for Kenilworth a few years ago, procuring a Renoir from a private party in Paris. Your curator was lovely to work with.”

  Kenilworth’s curator was Savanna’s would-be sister-in-law. A pang hit her. Sometimes the world was too small. She’d loved Rob’s family. She remembered the Renoir deal. The name Thiebold had jogged her memory, and now she knew why—Felix Thiebold was quite a well-known gallerist in the art world.

  “Felix was one of Everett’s closest friends,” Caroline said, “and he helped us add some stunning work to our collection. With Everett gone, I’m hoping to find new homes for several of the pieces. I put calls in to Felix and a couple of the other gallerists who brokered deals for us. You’ve been so generous with your time,” she said to Felix. “I so appreciate your help.”

  “I still can’t talk you out of it, I suppose? The beauty in the pieces Everett chose is timeless, exquisite. You might find you miss them once they’re gone.”

  Caroline sighed. “Yes, I know I will. Though, at some point, one just doesn’t have quite the need for such abundance anymore.” She glanced at Savanna. “I’m liquidating some of the collection to spare my family the hassle. I am nearly ninety, after all.”

  “Caroline, you’ll be around another decade at least,” Savanna said firmly. “But…what about the Minkov? In the library? You aren’t selling that one, are you?”

  “I don’t think so. That was one of Everett’s favorites. It seems to be yours, as well.” She paused. “How is the mural coming? You’ve been at it for hours! I’ve commissioned Savanna for an original piece in the parlor,” Caroline told Felix, pride in her voice.

  Savanna blushed. “I’ve only just started.” She asked Caroline, “Do you think Mr. Lyle would bring a ladder in for me from your garage? That ceiling must be eighteen or twenty feet.”

  “I’ll put it on his list. He’s indispensable lately. As is this gentleman.” Caroline patted Felix’s arm fondly.

  “I should let you two have the evening,” Felix said. “I’ll have Ryan stop by next weekend to pick up the Laurant we discussed. We’ll get things taken care of, no worries.” He kissed Caroline on the cheek and took Savanna’s hand once more. “It was delightful to meet you, Savanna.”

  Once he was gone, Caroline turned to Savanna, eyes sparkling. “Isn’t he a gem? Every time I see him, it almost makes me feel like Mr. Carson is still here.”

  Savanna nodded. “I can certainly understand that. You’re blessed with such good friends and family, Caroline.”

  “That I am.”

  They made their way back to the parlor. The front door snapped open and shut, and the three dogs skittered into the room, yipping and tackling each other.

  “Savanna,” Caroline said, picking up a jeweled change purse from the table near her chair, “I want to ask if you’d mind…when you see your sister next, could you pick up more of those little treats for my Princess and Duke? Sydney knows which ones.”

  Savanna promised to bring the treats Saturday morning when she returned. She and her sisters were meeting for lunch the next day at Fancy Tails and Treats, so it’d be an easy task.

  On Friday, Savanna claimed the big, overstuffed chair in the corner of the shop before Skylar got there with food. Sydney was finishing a sale at the counter. She had a knack for chatting with her patrons and making each of them feel important and valued. Her long red hair was loose today, and Savanna spotted narrow braids here and there interwoven with brightly colored macramé thread. Syd followed the customer to the door, bidding him goodbye, and then slid the Open sign out of its slotted frame, replacing it with her lunchtime sign, a cartoon of a big, drooling St. Bernard with the words: Never trust a dog to watch your food! We don’t! Closed for lunch.

  Savanna handed Sydney the cash Caroline had forced her to take and tucked the bag of organic dog biscuits into her purse so she’d have it tomorrow for the poodles. “You’ve got every dog in town addicted to these things.” Savanna laughed. “Aren’t they, like, kale and green beans and tofu or something? How do you even get them to eat that stuff?”

  “Hey, don’t make fun of my talent. I’m keeping Carson’s dogs healthy! And they love it.” She opened a doggie ice cream cup and set it on the floor for Fonzie. “See?”

  Savanna was grateful that Sydney let her little Boston Terrier hang out at the shop all day. This life was so different for him than Chicago, where she’d look at his sad face in the morning while running out to work and return to her apartment at night to find him waiting for her by the door. Now he had people to greet, other dogs to boss around, and endless treats as payment for his hard work.

  The bell over the door jingled as Skylar arrived, bearing a large brown paper bag from the deli next to her office. She deposited it on the table where her sisters sat and unpacked sandwiches, freshly baked potato chips, three large chocolate chip cookies, and three bottles of Mary Ann’s Soda—ginger beer flavor for herself, strawberry for Savanna, and cranberry for Sydney.

  “Oh, wow, I missed this.” Savanna set the bottle down after a long swallow. “This is such a Michigan drink. And I swear, that deli makes the best club sandwiches.”

  “No blueberry?” Sydney frowned at Skylar, peering at her bottle of pop.

  “Not now, I think that’s a summer flavor,” Skylar said. The artisanal soda company distributed out of Detroit, and the deli’s supply was always changing.

  “Well, this is just as good.” Sydney smacked her lips.

  The three of them fell quiet as they dug in. Savanna was on her lunch hour, which was actually only forty-five minutes. She forced herself to slow down. She still had plenty of time, and it was only a five-minute walk back to school.

  Sydney spoke around a mouthful of ham on rye, telling them about her date tonight. He was a firefighter: tough, but with the biggest sweet tooth, just like Sydney. This was to be their first date, although they’d been flirting every morning at the coffee shop. Savanna laughed. While Syd was on her date with her firefighter, she’d be in the middle of her school’s two-hour Open House, surrounded by kids and parents. Skylar confessed she couldn’t wait to cuddle up with Travis on the couch for an NCIS marathon later tonight.

  “So,” Skylar said, setting her sandwich down. “You guys were so suspicious about Eleanor Pietila’s death, I decided to see what I could find out. You know, to prove you wrong.”

  “What did you find? How did you even get any information? Did you use secret lawyer resources?” Savanna leaned forward, elbows on the little round table.

  “I have ways. Listen, I’m not ever going to do anything shady based on one of your hunches. You aren’t Nancy Drew.”

  Savanna sat back, crossing her arms. “Very funny. I wouldn’t have said a word about how she died, but it was odd. Even Caroline’s doctor thought so.”

  Skylar put her hands up. “I know! That’s why I kept thinking about it. Sheesh.” She looked at Sydney, as if for help. “I’m trying to say, I think maybe you were right. Something is weird about the way she died.”

  Savanna was still pouting. Just because she’d grown up devouring every mystery she could get her hands on, and just because she’d made a living by looking for hidden signs that could betray the truth in works of art, didn’t mean she was irrational. Sometimes Skylar could be her greatest ally, but sometimes she could be an annoying big sister.

  Sydney said to Skylar, “You’re seriously awesome. What did you find?”

  “Suck up,” Savanna muttered.

  Sydney kicked Savann
a’s foot under the table, making her jump. Syd wore sturdy boots to work with the dogs. Savanna had ballet flats on. “What did you find?”

  “Okay. And the only reason I can tell you this is because death certificates are public record. Just so you know,” Skylar clarified. “I had to go through Eleanor’s will with her son, who’s the executor, and on the death certificate—which still has to be filed, since some of the autopsy items are pending—they have ‘sudden cardiac death’ listed as cause of death. That’s not a heart attack. And I can tell you, Eleanor’s son is a mess. He says she never had any trouble with her heart. Even her cholesterol and blood pressure values were great. She had an EKG last year as part of her physical, and everything was perfect. He confirmed what you said, Syd, that Eleanor walked nearly a mile every day. So it’s definitely weird that her heart would suddenly stop beating, without her having an arrhythmia or being electrocuted or something.”

  Savanna sat back, mind spinning. “Well, we were all right there. She wasn’t electrocuted. She was fine, and then she wasn’t.”

  “Maybe something will come of it, since you said Dr. Gallager also felt something was off with how she died,” Skylar said.

  Savanna pushed her chocolate chip cookie across the table to Skylar. “I officially apologize for being a brat. You’re impressive. I can’t believe you were able to find all that out.”

  Sydney picked up the cookie and took a bite. “What? I already ate mine. So what does this mean?”

  Skylar took the cookie out of Sydney’s hand. “Mom should teach you how to share. I don’t know what it all means, except there’s no way of knowing what she actually died from. It doesn’t really matter—she was in a good place, with friends, happy I’d assume. Knowing that maybe the death certificate is wrong doesn’t change anything.”