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Artistic License to Kill

Page 13

by Paula Darnell


  Belle looked confused.

  “She meant I hadn't been a member very long. Now how did she know that?”

  “She could have read the membership records.”

  “I suppose. It's not the first thing I'd do if my sister had been murdered right there in the gallery, but she could have checked them I guess.”

  “What else?”

  “When I left the gallery today, Judith told me to think about framing my paintings, that I'd sell more if I did. That, in itself, wouldn't have been unusual, but Janice told me the same thing. In fact, she made a big issue of it the day I hung my paintings at the gallery.”

  “The two could think alike, you know. After all, they're identical twins, and both have been in the gallery business for years.”

  “Right. It's just that Judith seems more than a little familiar with the Roadrunner and its operations. When she noticed Janice's bear sculpture was missing from its pedestal, she replaced it immediately with another one from the same limited edition. If she hadn't known exactly where to find it, she couldn't have produced it so quickly”

  I looked at Belle, and the doubt on her face was plain to see. “You're not convinced yet, are you?”

  “All those things seem a little strange, but they can all be explained.”

  “Oh, and Judith called Chip 'Travis.' Chip told me that Janice was the only person who always called him Travis, except for his mother when she's irritated with him—oh, and Pamela called him that, too, once at the library meeting, but I'm pretty sure that was only because she wanted to keep it formal.”

  “Amanda, you may be reading too much into these incidents.”

  “My over-active imagination's running wild, huh?”

  “Not necessarily, but has anyone else noticed or mentioned anything strange about Judith's behavior?”

  “Not a soul. But don't you see? If I'm right, she could still be in danger. If Janice is impersonating her twin, and the killer figures it out . . . .”

  “I understand. That's assuming Janice was meant to be the target all along. There must be a way to find out Judith's identity. Maybe someone who's known Janice for a long time could offer some insight.”

  “That's just it. All the other gallery members have known her longer than I have, and they haven't been suspicious.”

  Chapter 23

  We walked in silence for a few minutes, pondering the situation. By this time, we'd reached the park. Laddie and Mr. Big pulled at their leashes until we stepped off the sidewalk so that they could roll in the grass. After he jumped up, Mr. Big started yelping.

  We looked around to see what he was barking at and spotted Rebecca with her two terriers. She saw us, too, and waved. We walked toward each other until we met near the park shelter. We played out the dogs' leashes, and they tumbled around each other until their leads were all in a tangle, and we had to straighten them out.

  After their encounter, Laddie and the terriers cooperated nicely by lying in the grass, but Mr. Big had other ideas. He wanted to play, and he refused to settle down until Belle picked him up. Cradling him in her arms, she sat down at one of the picnic tables. He wiggled for a while, but Belle held him tightly, and he soon gave up his struggle, although he continued to maintain a watchful eye on us while Belle kept him calm by petting him.

  “He's a pistol,” Belle commented.

  “He certainly is an energetic little guy,” Rebecca agreed. “How's your ankle?”

  “Much better, thanks. It feels good to rest it, though.”

  While we chatted with Rebecca, I tried to think of a subtle way to ask her about Judith. Finally, I decided to come right out with it. She might think I was crazy, but she'd known the twins in high school, perhaps longer than any members of the Roadrunner had known Janice, and she might be able to help.

  “Rebecca, have you heard from Judith since she came back to town?”

  “No. I called the gallery the other day, just to find out if anyone had heard from her, and they told me she's taken Janice's place as gallery director. I left a message for her, but she never returned my call, so yesterday I went to the gallery, hoping to catch her, but she wasn't in. Or so I was told. I got the feeling the woman who told me that was covering for Judith. She probably said she didn't want to see anyone. I'm sure Janice's death hit her hard. So far as I know, the two never reconciled.”

  “Would you be willing to try again?”

  “I plan on it. Why do you ask?”

  “Well . . . .” I took a deep breath and explained. To my surprise, Rebecca began nodding her head as she listened to my speculations.

  “It's possible, Amanda,” Rebecca told me. “When we were in high school, Janice and Judith switched places and pretended to be each other several times. Even their own father couldn't always tell them apart, but their mother was never fooled.”

  “How about you?”

  “I wasn't fooled either. Back then, I could always tell them apart. I can't exactly pinpoint how I knew. Intuition, I suppose.”

  “Wow!” Belle exclaimed, “and here I've been playing devil's advocate. It sounds as though you might be right, Amanda.”

  “We need to find out.”

  “Why don't I go down to the gallery right now? This time I'll peek in the window to make sure Judith's there before I go in. I'd better get going before Dennis comes back from the hardware store. I don't want him to find out about our suspicion. You know how concerned he is about the murder happening here in town. He might think it's dangerous for us to be poking around. I'll call you after I've seen Judith or Janice, as the case may be.”

  We round robined our phones, entering our contact information, so that the three of us could keep in touch. When Rebecca hurried off, Belle loosened her grip on Mr. Big, and he jumped off her lap to follow his terrier buddies, but she had his leash firmly in hand, and he didn't get far. We circled the park and then headed for home. I worried that the walk had been too much for Belle because she was limping more noticeably the last block before home.

  Belle refreshed the water in the dogs' bowls, grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator, and handed one to me. We sat down in the living room, where Belle put her feet up on the sofa and propped a pillow under her ankle.

  “Do you want an ibuprofen?” I asked Belle.

  “No. I may have overdone it, just a bit, but I'll be fine,” she said optimistically. “I just need to rest a while.”

  Our phones beeped simultaneously. Rebecca had texted us both that she'd seen Judith through the gallery's front window, and she was about to go inside.

  We waited anxiously to hear back from her. It wasn't long before my phone rang. I quickly punched “speaker” so that Belle would be able to hear both sides of our conversation.

  “It's a no-go, I'm afraid,” Rebecca said. “I'm walking back to my car now.”

  “You mean Judith's not really Janice?”

  “I didn't get close enough to tell. When I went into the gallery, Judith started to come towards me. I'm sure she recognized me, but she turned around, said something to the man who was there, and took off. She disappeared around a corner, and I heard a door close.”

  “Probably went to the office,” I said.

  “I think she went upstairs to the apartment. I could hear footsteps. Anyway, I told the man I was an old friend of Judith's and that I'd like to see her, but he said she wouldn't be in the gallery for the rest of the day.”

  “Now what do we do?” Belle asked.

  “I could try again tomorrow,” Rebecca offered, “but obviously she's deliberately avoiding me.”

  “Maybe that's because she doesn't want her impersonation revealed.”

  “My interest is really piqued now,” Rebecca said. “I'm going to try to catch her off-guard tomorrow, if possible. Does she ever leave the gallery?”

  “I suppose she must. This morning she went next door for coffee.”

  “I could stake out the coffee shop. Even though we've been out of touch for several years,
I can't believe Judith wouldn't want to see me. She's one of my oldest friends. Let me think about the best way to contact her, and I'll keep you posted.”

  Rebecca hung up, leaving us as much in the dark as we'd been before, although Belle and I agreed that Judith's avoidance of Rebecca seemed suspicious.

  “Tell Dennis I'm making the first installment on my payment plan this evening,” I told Belle before Laddie and I left. She looked confused for a moment before she smiled.

  “Chocolate, apricot, or pecan?” she asked.

  “Chocolate meringue tonight, since that was Dennis's first choice.”

  “Great! We'll look forward to it.”

  By the time we returned home, Mona Lisa had decided she'd missed us. Instead of observing us from her perch, she came running when we walked in the door. She greeted Laddie with a plaintive “meow” that conveyed her how-dare-you-leave-me attitude before she executed a series of figure eights around my ankles. It was too early for their dinner, but when my pets looked at me hopefully, I caved and gave Laddie a few carrots and Mona Lisa a kitty treat. They both settled themselves on the kitchen floor, making progress in the tiny room difficult, but I didn't have the heart to shoo them away while I assembled the ingredients for the pie. During Dustin's visit, I'd made some extra pasty shells and frozen them, so I took one of them out of the freezer to thaw while I made the filling and whipped up the meringue topping.

  After I put the pie into the oven to brown the meringue, I went into the living room, Laddie and Mona Lisa at my heels, and turned on the television to catch the local news. According to the reporter for Channel 2, there had been no new developments in the investigation of Janice's murder. A brief clip of an interview with the police chief elicited the information that the investigation was ongoing. Lieutenant Belmont was nowhere in sight.

  The timer on the stove buzzed, alerting me to check the pie. When I peeked into the oven, I was pleased that the meringue had turned a perfect golden brown. I carefully removed it from the oven and set it on a rack to cool.

  Laddie and Mona Lisa hadn't forgotten their dinner, and they lurked in the kitchen until I filled their bowls and fed them. After the large sandwich I'd consumed for lunch, I wasn't terribly hungry myself, so I made an omelet and toasted a slice of the cinnamon bread I'd brought home from the Valley Bread Bowl for my own dinner. I was happy to have found the restaurant. Its bread was delicious, and it would be fun sampling the different varieties now that I'd discovered the place.

  When my smartphone rang, I half-expected that Rebecca was calling again, but Susan's face appeared on the display instead. If she'd been arrested again, she wouldn't be calling me on her cell phone, so I took her call as a good sign.

  “Hi, Amanda. I have some news.”

  Susan sounded better, more like herself.

  “What's up?”

  “A couple of things. First of all, my lawyer talked to the district attorney again and found out that the witness who reported seeing me going into the gallery early the day Janice was killed may not be a witness at all. The police got an anonymous phone call. They don't know who made it, and I guess they've canvassed all the people who work in shops near the gallery, and nobody saw a thing.”

  “That call could have been made by the killer to throw the police off.”

  “That's what my lawyer said. The only thing they have against me is my threat to kill Janice, but that happened two years ago. Of course, I didn't mean it literally, and I was stupid to say it in the first place. I remember how angry I was with Janice that day, but I never should have said that I could kill her. Our argument must have made quite an impression. I guess several of the gallery members reported the incident when Belmont questioned them.”

  “Not much to build a case on.”

  “No. My lawyer said not to worry. If all they can come up with is a two-year-old threat I made in the heat of the moment, the district attorney won't charge me.”

  “Thank goodness for that.”

  “To tell you the truth, I'm still embarrassed to go out in public. I'm the only person I know who's spent a night in jail. I feel like a criminal, even though I haven't committed any crime, but I can't hide in the house forever, which brings me to the other reason I called you.”

  “Umm, hmm?”

  “The Roadrunner has a booth in the Lonesome Valley Spring Arts and Crafts Fair this weekend. It's not one of our bigger events, since it's more focused on crafts than art, but we always participate. It helps to publicize the gallery, and we sell a few items, mostly cards and prints, but once in a while a painting. Anyway, this event has been scheduled for months, and Tiffany and I volunteered to staff the booth for the weekend, but she's developed a bad case of bronchitis, so she won't be able to help. I was wondering if you'd consider filling in on Saturday.”

  “Sure. I can do that, but what about Sunday?”

  “Pamela's agreed to help, too, but she can't be there Saturday, so with you helping out, we'll be fine. By the way, Chip and Lonnie will set up our tent, the tables, and our grids, so we won't have to lift anything heavy. You can hang a couple of smaller paintings and bring some note cards and prints, if you like.”

  “I'll do that. I know just the paintings to bring. They're both sixteen by twenty inches. Will that size work?”

  “Perfectly. The weather forecast looks promising. It's always so miserable if the weather turns cold and rainy, and wind can be even worse, but I think we'll be fine.”

  After promising to get back to me with our booth's location, Susan rang off. She seemed to be looking forward to the fair, despite her reluctance to be seen in public. It certainly sounded as though she wasn't going to be charged, so I hoped that working at the fair would help her ease back into her routine.

  She hadn't mentioned Chip except to tell me that he would help. I assumed he wouldn't hang around after he and Lonnie set up our tent, grids, and tables, but, if so, at least I wouldn't have to be alone with him. Susan would be there as a buffer. I had a feeling that Chip hadn't taken me seriously when I told him I didn't feel attracted to him.

  Chapter 24

  Although I'd planned to spend most of the day Thursday in my studio painting, I kept turning the idea of Janice's masquerading as Judith over and over in my mind. At times I convinced myself that Janice was impersonating her twin, but at other times, I thought about how her actions could have other logical explanations, as Belle had pointed out.

  Given my propensity for procrastination, combined with my curiosity about our new gallery director, I had no problem agreeing when Rebecca called to suggest that I try to entice Judith to accompany me to the coffee shop where Rebecca would be waiting. I would have suggested that Belle come along, but I knew that her morning was already booked at her hairdresser's salon, followed by a doctor's appointment.

  I needed to think of some plausible reason for me to show up at the gallery since I wasn't scheduled to work there again until the following week. If I replaced one of my paintings with a different landscape, none of the members would think twice about it, so I selected a moody, ethereal piece done in soft hues of gray punctuated by some bright areas of fuchsia, viridian green, and gold ochre. Since my landscapes tended to be brighter and more colorful than my newest addition, I hadn't hung it in the gallery initially, but maybe its atmospheric quality would appeal to a potential buyer.

  “I didn't breath a word about our stakeout to Greg,” Rebecca said when she picked me up. “I told him we were going to meet for coffee. I think he felt a little disappointed that I didn't ask him to come along, but as soon as I mentioned that we might also do some shopping, his interest waned immediately. If there's anything Greg hates, it's shopping.” She chuckled. “By the way, that's a beautiful painting, Amanda. It would look fabulous in our guestroom. How much are you asking for it?”

  When I named the price, Rebecca gasped, “Oh, really? I had no idea paintings were so expensive.” She hastened to add, “not that they're not worth it. I've never bought one; tha
t's all. How long did it take you to paint this one?”

  “I spent about fifty hours on it.”

  “No wonder it's pricey. You'll have to forgive my ignorance, Amanda. I really had no idea. Obviously, I don't know much about art. When we were in high school, Judith and Janice took the art classes. I was in the choir. Still am, for that matter—church choir and the Lonesome Valley Pioneers. We give a couple of concerts every year, and sometimes we sing at local events. We're going to be at the arts and crafts fair Saturday.”

  “Me, too. The gallery will have an exhibit there. What time are you performing?”

  “One o'clock, in the park pavilion.”

  “I'll try my best to get over there to see the choir if they can spare me for a while. I don't know whether our spot will be close to the pavilion or not.”

  “And I'll come over to the gallery's exhibit afterwards. Well, here we are,” Rebecca said as she parked a few doors away from the coffee shop. “I hope I'll be able to snag a booth in there. It looks busy.”

  We entered the coffee shop and found a place to sit right away. “Why don't you wait here to save the booth while I order a coffee,” Rebecca suggested.

  When she returned with a large cup of coffee, we strategized. I would invite Judith to come with me to the coffee shop. Once she entered, she wouldn't be able to avoid Rebecca, and the two could talk while I ordered coffee and made myself scarce, giving Rebecca a chance to size up Judith.

  We had no idea whether our simple plan would work, but we were ready to give it a try.

  “Here goes nothing,” I said to Rebecca as I picked up my painting.

  When I entered the gallery, Ralph was sitting behind the counter, and Judith was nowhere to be seen.

  “Good morning, Ralph,” I said. “Is Judith around?”

  “In the office.”

  “You're not here alone today, are you?”

  “No. Carrie's in the meeting room, organizing the note cards and prints we'll be taking to the arts and crafts fair this weekend.”

 

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