Beyond Secrets, The Art of Murder_A Madison Hart Mystery

by DB Jones

  Madison interrupted.“I know, but I need to put my feelings aside and look at the evidence. With Aspen missing, it’s just one more piece that ties the art center to our case. I just hope we won’t have another homicide to solve here.”

  Josh tried to ease Madison’s worry. “She hasn’t been gone long; that’s in our favor.”

  Most likely the other women were killed soon after they disappeared, so the chances of finding Aspen alive grew thin. “I need to see what’s on her phone as soon as possible. When the forensic team gets here, I’m going back to the lab immediately and see what I can find on her phone.”

  “I’ll stay here and help, but if you find something, call me right away. Okay?”

  “I will. I just don’t want to waste any time. I’ll see you later.”

  Madison raced to the lab to see if there was something on that phone that would help her find Aspen, and to know who was the last person was she talked to. Was she meeting someone like the others in secret? If so, maybe this time Madison will find out who it is.

  She handed the phone to the lab technician, and he hooked it up to his equipment. It wasn’t hard to detect Aspen’s password. Though she had apparently changed it often, she had the new one for several months. Madison was not surprised to see what it was. The forensic tech opened up the last voicemails and texts.

  The last call Aspen had answered was from Madison the night before, but she had received a couple of texts since then. One was from her mother reminding her of a family dinner the following week, another she sent to Alice, but the other one was from Tyler Kincaid. He wanted to get together with her as soon as possible to go over the details of her exhibit. He didn’t want to waste any time and said they had much to do, and it was important that they got started as soon as possible. That was the last message on her phone.

  Madison needed to talk to Tyler Kincaid, so she called him from the lab and arranged to meet him at the studio in the back of the Art Center in an hour, but did not mention anything about Aspen.

  She drove over to the center and arrived just as the doors opened. Kim was sitting at the reception desk. “Good morning, Ms. Hart. Have you changed your mind about modeling for Mr. Kincaid?”

  “Not sure,” Madison replied smiling. “Would you tell Mr. Kincaid I’m here? He’s expecting me.”

  “I’m not sure he’s here yet. Can I help you with something?”

  “No. I just talked with him, and he wanted to meet me in the studio. Would you mind giving him a call?”

  “Sure. Mr. Kincaid, Ms. Hart said you were expecting her. She’s here in the front hall.” There was a hesitation, and then Kim hung up the phone. “Apparently, he is waiting for you.”

  “Thank you.” Madison started down the hallway. She felt Kim’s eyes following her and knew she was upset with Madison for bothering Mr. Kincaid. Madison walked across the back courtyard toward Studio One. Just as she was about to knock on the door, it opened. “Good morning, Agent Hart. I hope you’ve changed your mind about being the subject of my new collection?” he asked self-assuredly.

  “I’m not sure about that but thought I owed you an opportunity to tell me more about what your plans are. I talked to Aspen last night and mentioned to her what you wanted, and she thought I should. Have you talked with her today?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  Madison was trying to read him, but it was difficult. He didn’t seem shaken by her questions at all. “Well, tell me more about what you expect from your models. I’m not sure what I would be getting into, so I thought I’d see what the other did for you.”

  “Well, the only thing I can say is that I work very closely with my models until my painting is complete, and up until now I’ve only used a model once. I prefer to have a fresh look with each painting.”

  “How close do you get, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Each one of them was very special to me. I have to be personally involved and feel what they feel so I can portray them in my art to fit the mood. But with you, I need to see what you see. I want to capture what you’re seeing and feeling,” he said passionately.

  “I’m not sure I’m the woman for this,” she said, baiting him.

  “You are exactly the woman for my collection.”

  “Maybe if I talked to the other models, I could get a better understanding of what your needs are.”

  “Fine, but I don’t know where they are now. When I finished my paintings, they just quit coming around. Sad isn’t it?” He lowered his head. “Just when you think you’ve created a special bond, they up and leave you. I guess that’s why I only use a model once.”

  “Well, let me think about it for a bit, and I’ll get back to you.”

  “I’d like to start soon, so don’t keep me waiting too long.”

  “I won’t,” she replied, as she started out the door.

  “Ms. Hart. You are the only one for my new collection.” He watched as she left and then closed the door.

  Madison strolled across the courtyard but felt his eyes on her. The closer she got to the main building, the more she had that uneasy feeling in her gut. She walked back into the exhibit hall to look at the paintings again. Kim was standing there looking at them when she walked in.

  “Well, are you going to be his next?”

  “Next?” Madison asked, rather startled.

  “Next special model.”

  “I haven’t ruled it out.”

  Kim turned to Madison, “How’s Aspen this morning? She sure was putting down the Champagne last night. I imagine she’s going to have a whopper of a headache today.”

  “I haven’t talked to her today. I suppose you’re right, though. She’s probably sleeping it off. I’ll see her tomorrow. Kim, I was wondering if you had ever met any of Mr. Kincaid’s models. I’d love to talk to them about their experience before I make a commitment to his project.”

  “I saw them a couple of times, but, for the most part, they worked with Mr. Kincaid alone in his studio. It was usually in the evenings after they got off from their jobs and I had already gone home.”

  “What can you tell me about them? Do you have their names or phone numbers?” Madison asked trying not to sound too inquisitive.

  “I’m sure I put them somewhere. I’ll look around, and if I find that information, I’ll give you a call.”

  “Thank you.”

  Madison changed the subject so Kim wouldn’t get too curious as to why she was asking about Kincaid’s affairs. “Kim, I heard all of Mr. Kincaid’s paintings sold last night. That’s wonderful. He sure has his fans, and they all seem to be women,” she snickered.

  “They are not only his fans. You should hear how they argue about who is the closest to him. They act like Mr. Kincaid is their personal artist. I know that a few of them have an entire wing of their home dedicated to his art. I heard that every time they buy another piece from him, they invite all their friends for a luncheon just to show off their personal collection. Mr. Kincaid only plays up to them because they are such loyal patrons of his art. I doubt he attends any of their functions. I’ve heard him make excuses every time they invite him to one of their affairs. If you ask me, I think they’d kill to own his works.”

  Kim’s words used to describe these women caught Madison off guard. They would kill to own his works. Did she mean that literally?.

  “I would be curious about seeing their collections for myself. Do you think you could get me a list of who bought Mr. Kincaid’s paintings last night?”

  “Sure. I think I have that at my desk,” Kim replied eagerly.

  They walked back out to the reception area. Kim rummaged through her desk as if she were looking for something. “I guess I already filed it, but I’ll check out back later.”

  Madison left the center, returned to her office, and called Josh and asked him to come by when he got a chance. “Anything new?” She hoped he had information that would tell them what happened to Aspen. But he had nothing.

  She update
d Josh on what just transpired with Tyler Kincaid. “Well, did you tell him you would model for him?”

  “I told him I would think about it, but that I needed to find out more about what he would require of me. I suggested talking to the other models, but that didn’t seem to rattle him at all. Either he doesn’t have a clue what happened to them, or he’s a cold-blooded sociopath. I’m going to keep digging. Someone knows something, and I feel like I’m getting closer. I hope the same hasn’t happened to Aspen. I can’t figure out why she’s missing. She didn't fit the profile and was never one of Kincaid’s models. When I was leaving the center, Kim said something interesting to me. She said the women who buy Mr. Kincaid’s art loved him so much that they would kill to own his work. I find her choice of words intriguing. Have you contacted Aspen’s parents?”

  “Yes, I called them while you were at the center. They have not heard from her either, but her mother said she left a message about the family dinner this coming weekend. Then she asked me why I was inquiring about her daughter, so I told her we wanted to ask her some questions about her relationship with Mr. Kincaid. Her mother seemed to think there was no relationship, other than teacher and student. I didn’t want to worry her any more than necessary. For all we know, she took a long walk and got side-tracked, or ran into a friend and decided to go for coffee, but I don’t suspect that was the case.”

  “I don’t think either of us believes that story, and I doubt her mother would have either, especially knowing she left without her cell phone. What woman goes anywhere, these days without her lifeline to the world?”

  Josh looked up at the board. “Personally, I’d like to know where Mr. Kincaid was last night. He fits into this somehow; I know it.”

  “Why don’t you ask him to come down to the station and see if he could help you out with a few things?”

  “I think I will. I’ll call him later. I’ve got to get back to the station and finish with the chief. I’ll catch up with you later. I think it's best you stay away from this interview with Kincaid for now.”

  “Good idea. I want to lie down for awhile. I didn’t get much sleep last night. How about coming back later so we can recap the investigation?”

  “I’ll pick up some Chinese on the way. Have a good rest. I’ll see you later.”

  When Josh left, Madison collapsed across her bed. She was exhausted from all the events of the day and was worried about Aspen. However, she felt things were coming to a head with the case. Her gut was telling her the answers were right in front of them, but within moments she had fallen asleep.

  Madison dreamed that she saw Aspen lying in a wooded area, and she was alive, but critically injured. Suddenly there was a knock at the office door. She pulled back the curtain, and there standing with his hands full of food was Josh. She rushed to the door and flung it open. “I’m starving, how about you?” Then he saw that look again; that look when Madison has had a revelation. “Okay, out with it. I know that look.”

  “I’m not sure you’re going to believe me.”

  “Well, I won’t know unless you tell me.” He placed the boxes of food in the center of the table, turned, stopped and looked up at her, “You’ve had another one of those profound dreams, haven’t you?”

  “I saw Aspen in my dreams, and she’s still alive, but she’s in bad shape.”

  “All right. Take it slowly, and give me every detail you can remember. Close your eyes if you have to. Now tell me what you’re seeing.”

  She was surprised that he took her seriously. She closed her eyes and tried to remember everything as Josh coached her with questions. “What are you feeling? What do you smell?” One by one, the pieces of her dream progressed into more clarity. Madison’s dream showed that Aspen was injured but was still alive. In the dream, she could see a large stone wall behind Aspen and a pile of debris next to her. She heard cars going by slowly in the distance, and there was a large, old scrub oak that towered over the site. People were laughing on the other side of the wall. That was all she could remember of the dream. “Josh, I believe she’s still alive.”

  “We won’t give up trying to find her, Maddy.” Josh put his arm around her shoulder. “You need to eat something, and then I think you ought to go to bed. You’re no good to this investigation if you’re not at the top of your game.” He opened the boxes of food and a pair of chopsticks. Madison only dabbed at the food some but didn’t eat much.

  “I’ve got to get back to the station and go over some things with the rest of the team. Remember, you’re not alone in this. Let us do some of the legwork.” Josh dug into the sweet and sour chicken.

  “I know you’re right. If you hear anything, and I mean anything, please call me immediately.” Madison took a few more bites.

  “You know I will.”

  Josh looked at the circles under her eyes and her pale complexion; she looked run-down. The case was taking a toll on her. He hoped they could get to the bottom of this soon. They finished all they were going to eat, and Josh sealed up the boxes and put them in the fridge, hoping she would eat later and then he left.

  Madison was so tired she could barely make it back to her room. She sat down on the edge of the bed, and her head fell into her hands. She was not only worried about Aspen but also frustrated about not solving this case. “I know the answers are right in front of me, but I’m too tired to see them.” She leaned back onto the pillow staring up at the cold ceiling with its plaster peeling off. The more she stared at it, the more images started to take shape. She was just about to nod off when her cell phone rang.

  “Madison, is that you?”

  “Oh, hi, Winter. I’m so sorry. I know I promised I would come up and see you this weekend, but there is a new development in the case. My friend, Aspen, has disappeared. Tears welled up she was about to break down.

  “Maddy, I’m so sorry, but that’s why I’m calling. Do you remember my friend Anne Gunter? She is one of the mediums here in Cassadaga.”

  “Oh, of course, I do.”

  “Well, she just called me and gave me some interesting bits of information, and she asked if I would call you. She wanted me to tell you that she had a vision of someone telling her to give you a message.” Winter told her every detail of what Anne said. “Does that mean anything to you, Maddy?”

  Madison was not one to believe in that sort of thing but respected Anne and her beliefs. “Not really, but I’ll make a note of it. What am I looking for?”

  “All she said was that the message was specifically for you. She also said for you to be careful. Maddy, when Anne tells me something, I listen. I hope you will too. I know this case is wearing on you and now I wish I hadn’t asked you to take it. I’m worried about you.”

  Madison wanted to change the subject. “How are the renovations coming along? Are you and Cole getting any closer to having that grand party?

  “We’re almost done. I don’t know what I would have done without Cole. I’m nearly back to my old self, and he’s finally letting me tackle more projects. He’s worse than a mother hen, but I wouldn’t have him any other way. You won’t miss that party, will you?”

  “Hell no! I wouldn’t miss it for the world. After all that you’ve been through to bring that home to its former glory, I know it will be one spectacular bash.”

  “Are you still working close with Detective Logan? I hear he’s a bulldog on investigations. Jim speaks highly of him.”

  “Yes, I am. Detective Logan knows the ropes. Win, I miss you. I do hope this case ends soon. I need some sister time but bear with me. I know you understand. I saw how you dove into that story about the Dupree’s. I know you’ll do this story justice as well. Love you, Sis. We’ll talk again soon.”

  “Love you, too, Maddy.”

  Madison laid her head back down on the pillow, closed her eyes and then finally dozed off. It seemed like it had only been minutes before she was awake again. Something Anne said struck a cord. She closed her eyes again and tried to picture the dream again. “
Oh my God! That’s it.”

  She looked over at her clock, and couldn’t believe it was 1:00 a.m. She clicked on Josh’s number.

  “Logan,” he answered, half asleep.

  “Josh, I know where Aspen is!”

  He jumped out of bed. “Did you just say you know where Aspen is?”

  “Yes! Meet me at the Art Center in five minutes.”

  Josh tossed on the clothes that were hanging on the chair and darted out the door.

  Madison jumped into a pair of jeans, grabbed her keys and flew out the door. She spun her car around and sped out of the parking lot racing down Maitland Avenue and turned sharply onto Packwood. She slammed on her brakes in front of the Center. No one was there, and it was closed. Within moments, Josh was speeding up behind her with the lights of the squad car flashing. He jumped out and ran up beside her. “Where is she?”

  Madison stood there for a moment looking around at the wall, and then suddenly had the urge to run to the back of the center. Josh could barely keep up with her. She turned the corner of the back wall, and there stood an old scrub oak, just like in her dream. The wall extended the length of the back of the center. There were several piles of debris. Madison dashed toward the base of the tree near the first pile, scraping her legs on some of the bushes that flanked the wall. She scanned the ground with her flashlight. Then, she noticed some broken branches and beaten down grass. She pulled back the brush and there she was. Aspen was lying in the tall grass. Madison raced to her and checked for a pulse. “Josh, call for an ambulance. She’s still alive, but her pulse is very weak.”

  Madison knelt down next to Aspen and could see a wound near the base of her neck. She knew right away that it was from a gun and most likely the same one used on the murdered victims. “Aspen?” There was no reply. She had lost a lot of blood and was unconscious.

  Josh raced back to the front of the building to wait for the ambulance. Madison could hear the sirens getting closer, but wouldn’t leave Aspen alone. “Hold on, Aspen,” she whispered. “Hold on.”