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Murder at the Gallery: A Northwest Cozy Mystery (Northwest Cozy Mystery Series Book 6)

Page 5

by Dianne Harman


  She checked her messages, making notes about several people who were inquiring about catering events.

  She smiled when the machine beeped and her sister Roz’s voice came on the line. “Hey, Sis, are you back yet? You must be if you’re listening to this.” DeeDee rolled her eyes. “I want to hear all about your trip. Call me as soon as you get this message. So that’s right now, do you hear me? Call me. Now.”

  DeeDee skipped to the next message. If she called Roz and started telling her about the trip and that Jake had just proposed when they got back, she’d never get her off the line. DeeDee wanted to keep the proposal’s warm and fuzzy feeling to herself for a little while longer. She was still processing it internally, and she wanted to have a discussion with Jake about their plans when he got back from his walk on the beach with Balto. That’s if she could keep her eyes open.

  She decided to return the calls the following day, with the exception of a couple that couldn’t wait. She pressed a number on her cell phone, and walked into the great room where she settled onto the sofa. “Susie? Hi, it’s DeeDee. We just got back, and I picked up your message about the cocktail party at Colin James’ place tomorrow. Is everything under control?”

  “Hey, DeeDee, welcome back. It’s all good to go.” Susie, her helper at Deelish, sounded out of breath. “I’m at Colin’s house right now, seeing to some last-minute details. He wanted fairy lights strung around the pool area. I ordered extra outdoor seating and floral displays to make the place look pretty. I’ve just been moving a few things around. Colin said the budget’s not an issue.”

  “Susie, you’re an angel.” DeeDee was grateful for Susie’s enthusiasm and the great ideas she’d contributed to DeeDee’s business. It had been Susie’s suggestion for DeeDee to partner with other local businesses to provide premium event services such as décor and styling. Susie project-managed everything, the other suppliers did the work, and DeeDee and Susie split the commission on the additional services down the middle.

  “The food’s all prepped and ready to go in the van,” Susie added.

  “I hope you didn’t do it all yourself,” DeeDee said. “Was Kristen available to help?” Kristen was a student friend of Susie’s, who did some casual waitressing work when DeeDee needed extra staff.

  “Yes, and she’s coming tomorrow night as well. I know you’re probably wiped out, so all you need to do is show up at Deelish tomorrow, and drive the van to Seattle. I’ll have it packed up in the morning and ready to go for you.”

  “It sounds like you’ve thought of everything,” DeeDee said, thinking the refrigerated van she’d bought the month before was a godsend. The business was at the point where trying to cram everything into her SUV for the bigger events she was catering wasn’t working. Her son, Mitch, an accountant with an international firm in Seattle, had crunched the numbers and assured her the van was a necessary and affordable business expense.

  “The last-minute things can be done at Colin’s home before the party,” Susie went on. “Kristen and I will meet you there tomorrow evening. How was your trip by the way?”

  DeeDee gave a lazy smile. “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, Susie, I promise. Right now, I’m so tired I can hardly think straight.”

  “I’ll be waiting to hear all about it,” Susie said with a laugh, as DeeDee ended the call.

  She rested her head back on the sofa to decompress after the long flight, and considered closing her eyes. She was tempted, except she was pretty sure she’d fall asleep. There was one more call she wanted to make. Picking up the phone again, she dialed Cassie’s number.

  Cassie’s husband, Al, answered. “Yo,” he bellowed into the phone.

  DeeDee heard Cassie say something in the background.

  “Hey, Al, it’s DeeDee,” she said. “I just wanted to thank you and Cassie again for watching Balto while we were gone.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Al said. “We had a great time, out in my sailboat every day. Balto sure loves boats, doesn’t he? His enthusiasm is contagious.”

  “That’s an understatement,” DeeDee laughed. “Can I have a quick word with Cassie?”

  “Sure, here she is,” Al said. There was crackling on the line while he handed the phone to his wife.

  “Hi, DeeDee. I’ve told Al not to answer the phone like that,” Cassie said with a sigh, “but he says he’s not a receptionist. Was Balto all right when you got back?”

  “He was,” DeeDee said. “Thanks again. I was actually calling about something else. This is a strange question, Cassie, but you know that Mitchell painting hanging in your hallway? I just wondered where you bought it.”

  “It’s from the Germain Gallery in Seattle,” Cassie said without skipping a beat. “They specialize in plein air paintings and have a lot of paintings of Southern California landscapes. The owner told me he sells a lot of them, because it’s a very popular genre with Seattle art collectors. There are a number of plein air artists in Seattle, and people are really collecting that genre of art. Why do you ask?”

  “It’s funny, because we saw several in that genre on our trip,” DeeDee said. “I guess I never realized how much I liked them. Jake wouldn’t let me buy one while we were there, but would you mind if I stopped by tomorrow and looked at it again?”

  “I’d love that,” Cassie said. “You can tell me all about Provence when you’re here. I’m practically a sailboat widow these days. It seems like Al is out on his new boat nearly all day every day. He’s become great friends with our next-door neighbor, Dino Argyros, and if the two of them aren’t out on the water, they’re planning crazy things like an around the world sailing adventure.”

  DeeDee stifled a laugh. Nothing would surprise her when it came to Al De Duco. “I’ll come over in the afternoon,” she said. “I think I might have trouble waking up early tomorrow morning.”

  As she ended the call, she heard Jake and Balto climbing the steps of the front porch and waited for them to come in, trying to think of the last time she’d felt this happy.

  CHAPTER 6

  The air was crisp when DeeDee walked Balto along the beach the following morning. Jake had brought her a cup of coffee when he’d left for work, but after kissing him goodbye she’d closed her eyes for a moment and immediately fell right back to sleep. The sound of Balto whining on the pillow beside her had finally roused her a little after 11:00 a.m.

  “Okay, I get the message, Balto,” she said, moving her head away from his doggie breath. “I think some fresh air would do both of us some good. Just let me take a quick shower.”

  DeeDee was still groggy after showering and pulling on some old sweats, but by the time she and Balto turned down the steep sandy path to the beach, she could feel her senses coming back to life. At the end of the path, she let Balto off his leash, and watched him frolic as he ran in and out of the water’s edge.

  DeeDee inhaled the salty air and stuffed her hands in her coat pockets, the only sound she could hear being the water lapping at her feet. A soft light breeze cooled her skin. From time to time, Balto would appear at her heels with a stick in his mouth, and she’d throw it into the distance and wait for him to come bounding back with it.

  Her head was full of the wonders of her past week with Jake, and what she’d come back to when she returned from Provence. She’d started a new life on Bainbridge Island a year earlier, and now she found herself on the edge of another new adventure, getting married for a second time. To say Jake was the love of her life would have been disrespectful to her ex-husband, Lyle, with whom she shared two wonderful adult children.

  When Lyle had an affair with his secretary and left DeeDee, she’d never imagined that she’d find happiness again with another man. But DeeDee believed in looking forward, not back, and time had healed the old wounds, so she no longer had bad feelings for Lyle. Jake was many things that Lyle was not, and she felt blessed that Jake had found his way into her life and loved her as fiercely and unconditionally as he did.

  The thought
of getting married again filled her with joy, excitement and hope, and she hoped her children and her sister would share her enthusiasm. She knew Cassie’s daughter, Brianna, had initially been reluctant to accept Al into the family when her mother had remarried, but Cassie’s circumstances were different.

  Al had been with the Mafia for many years as a bodyguard and friend to a man named Vinny Santora. DeeDee had met both of them at Roz’ wedding, because her husband was Vinny’s nephew. Unfortunately, Uncle Vinny had been murdered at the reception, and shortly afterward, Al retired to the Cayman Islands.

  His retirement had been short-lived when he’d come back to the Seattle area to protect DeeDee when she’d been targeted by a murderer. He’d met Cassie at DeeDee’s home, they’d fallen in love, and subsequently gotten married. Brianna was now one of Al’s biggest fans.

  “Let’s go, Balto,” DeeDee yelled, her hands cupping her mouth. Balto turned, and she waved him toward her. “I have a lot to do before the party I’m catering tonight.”

  Balto hung his head, and followed her back up the path, lagging behind. “You’re just like a sulky child,” DeeDee scolded, waiting for him to catch up. He looked up at her, and her heart melted. “Don’t give me those big, sad eyes, buster.” She rested a hand on her hip. “Do you realize how much I missed you while we were away? Jake will take you back to the beach later, after I go out. Is that a deal?”

  Balto walked past her with what looked like a doggie smile on his face, and DeeDee smiled to herself as she brought up the rear.

  Back at the house, she powered up her laptop and returned the rest of the work-related messages she’d picked up from the answering machine the previous evening. While she was walking Balto, she’d gotten the idea to call a gallery she and Lyle had visited in Laguna Beach when they’d taken a trip to Southern California several years earlier.

  She remembered when she was a docent at SAM, someone had returned from a trip there, and they’d talked about the wonderful art in the gallery. She recalled the owner’s name, Kevin Morgan, and wondered if he could help with her questions about the painting she’d seen in Marc Germain’s gallery in Saint-Victor-La-Coste.

  She found the contact details for Morgan Galleries in Laguna Beach on Google, and pressed the number into her cell phone. The receptionist put her call through immediately.

  “Hello, Mr. Morgan, my name is DeeDee Wilson. I live in the Seattle, Washington area. You probably don’t remember me, but we met several years ago when my husband and I visited your gallery.”

  “I meet a lot of people,” Kevin said in a friendly voice. “So please excuse me if I admit I can’t place you, but it’s always nice to hear from our visitors again. What can I do for you, Mrs. Wilson?”

  “I have an odd reason for calling you,” she began, “but I hope you can help me. I was recently at a gallery in Provence and saw a painting there that looked very similar to one a friend of mine bought here in Seattle a couple of months ago. I was wondering if you could tell by looking at a photo of the painting if there’s anything that seems odd about it?”

  “It’s pretty hard to do that by just looking at a photo,” Kevin said, “but I’d be happy to see if I can. I can’t promise anything, though.”

  “That’s fine, I completely understand,” DeeDee said. “Where shall I send the photo? To the gallery email address?”

  “It would probably be quicker if you send it to my cell phone,” Kevin replied, giving her the number. “That way, I’ll pick it up immediately. Do you mind me asking why you’re questioning it?”

  “I’m eidetic,” she said. “I don’t use my photographic memory often, but there’s something about the painting I saw in France and the one my friend has that’s bothering me. I wouldn’t ask you to tell me if one of them is a fake or anything, I’d just be curious to get your thoughts on it.”

  Kevin paused before replying. “Is there any chance you could get a photo of the piece your friend bought, so I could compare them? Of course, you realize I can’t make a firm judgment as to authenticity from photos, but I would like to see what has your curiosity aroused.”

  “Yes, I’ll send it over a little later. I live on Bainbridge Island in Washington, and I have to attend an event in Seattle this evening, but I’m sure I’ll have time to stop by my friend’s this afternoon. I’ll send both pictures to you at the same time. Thanks so much for taking my call, Kevin. I really appreciate your help.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, and hung up.

  DeeDee scrolled to Cassie’s name on her phone. Cassie answered on the second ring. “Hi, DeeDee, I recognized your number. How’s the jet lag?”

  “I can hardly keep my eyes open. I was fine earlier, but now I’m not sure how I’m going to make it through the party I’m catering this evening. I just wondered if it would be all right if I stop by this afternoon?”

  “Of course,” Cassie said. “You know you’re always welcome, but Al and I will only be at the house for the next hour or so because we’re having our first sailing lesson in a little while.”

  DeeDee was confused. “I thought you said Al’s been out on his sailboat every day?”

  “Oh, he’s been on it,” Cassie said with a laugh. “But that doesn’t mean he’s actually done any sailing. The boat’s tied up to the wooden dock at the end of the garden, and he sits there, reading, and talking to his dog, Red. When Balto was here, Al let the boat out as far as the length of the rope, and Balto sat with him while Al did some fishing. He says he’s just getting used to being on the open water.”

  “Well, that’s something,” DeeDee said. “Baby steps.” She suspected Al’s enthusiasm for learning to sail had been overshadowed by his lifelong fear of water, and she admired him for trying to overcome it. “In that case, I’ll be right over. See you in ten minutes.”

  DeeDee picked up her car keys from the hallway table. Balto, who was playing with his toy rabbit, looked up. “I’m going to see Cassie and Al…” She had been about to ask Balto if he wanted to come with her, but Balto had already bolted for the front door.

  “I guess that’s a yes,” she laughed as she walked outside to her car and opened the door for him to jump in.

  When DeeDee pulled into the driveway of Cassie’s impressive waterfront home a short while later, she had to push the memory of the murder that had happened there out of her mind. Before Cassie and Al bought the residence, it had belonged to the popular New Day NW television entertainment presenter, Dana Donnelly. Dana had been stabbed to death next to the pool house the previous New Year’s Eve, following a party DeeDee had catered. Today, she was parked in the exact spot where she’d unwittingly seen the murderer running away from the scene of the crime, although she hadn’t been able to identify the killer because of the darkness.

  “Remind me to pick another parking spot next time,” she murmured to Balto as they climbed out.

  “Hey, DeeDee. Wanna see the boat?”

  She turned in the direction from where Al was calling to her, and waved over to him. He was sitting in the sailboat, which was bobbing up and down on the water where Puget Sound reached the dock at the end of the garden. His Doberman Pinscher, Red, was standing guard over him, pacing up and down on the wooden boards of the dock.

  “Maybe later, Al,” she called back. “I just need to see Cassie for a moment about something.”

  Cassie was standing by the open door as DeeDee walked up to the house, and greeted DeeDee with a kiss on the cheek.

  “I see what you mean about Al,” DeeDee said, smiling.

  “Ssh, here he comes,” Cassie said.

  Al’s footsteps crunched the gravel on the walkway leading to the front door of the house, and a moment later he stepped into the large glass enclosed hallway beside DeeDee.

  “How’s the swimming going, Al?” DeeDee asked him.

  “Great,” he grinned. “I don’t need the Swim Fin buoyancy aid any more. I had to get one specially made to fit me. Move over Michael Phelps, huh?”

 
“That’s amazing, Al. No wonder you look so pleased with yourself.” DeeDee took her cell phone out of her purse. “I know you guys have an appointment, so do you mind if I take a photo of your Alfred Mitchell painting, and I’ll get out of your way?” She nodded toward the large painting hanging on the wall in the nearby great room.

  Al turned to DeeDee with a frown. “Why d’ya need a photo of it?”

  DeeDee stared at the painting again before she spoke. “I saw one in a Provence gallery that looked a lot like this one. It struck me as odd, that’s all.”

  Al adjusted his ever-present sunglasses. His jaw was set in a hard line and his voice took on a menacing tone. “Ya’ think there’s somethin’ wrong with it?”

  “Probably not,” DeeDee said carefully. “It’s just very similar to the other one I saw. I was curious about the similarity, so I called a gallery owner in California who specializes in this type of art, and he’d like to see a photo of it. Hopefully he can clear the matter up.”

  Al cracked his knuckles. “If someone’s gone and sold us a fake, Ima gonna kill ‘em. Ya know that, don’tcha, Cassie?”

  Cassie placed a hand on her husband’s arm to soothe him. “Ssh, Al, let’s see what DeeDee can find out first.” She raised an eyebrow at DeeDee. “Thanks, DeeDee. You go right ahead, and I’ll make sure Al doesn’t kill anyone.”

  DeeDee snapped the photo and left, sensing that Al was more than a little upset about the possibility the painting might be a fake. When she got back to her car she used her cell phone to send both photos, the one she had taken in Provence along with the one hanging on the wall in the De Duco home, to Kevin at the gallery in Laguna Beach.

  CHAPTER 7

  Simone Germain wrapped her sleek raven mane of hair into its customary knot at the back of her head and secured it with several hair pins. Her face was free of makeup, her flawless complexion needing no enhancement. Perfectly coiffed brows framed her deep-set brown eyes. Her long, straight nose gave her a look of strength that singled her out in a crowd as more than just a pretty face. She rubbed a stick of beeswax balm across her rose-colored lips and picked up her car keys and Louis Vuitton purse. Gym bag in the other hand, she sailed out of the exclusive private fitness complex without a backward glance, seemingly oblivious to the heads that turned in her direction as she made her way to the gleaming white Mercedes SUV with personalized license plates parked in front of the complex.

 

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