Murder Can Mess Up Your Masterpiece

by Rose Pressey

  I decided to follow the women. Max would always be there, but I might never see the women again. I hurried away from the trailer and fell in behind them. Both were lithe, as if maybe they were marathon runners. Could they be sisters? They had the same shade of ash-brown hair cut in similar, shoulder-length styles. One was a couple of inches taller than the other. The women wore shorts showing their muscular legs, sneakers, and casual shirts designed to keep cool on summer days like this one. So far, they didn’t act as if they knew I was following them. I had no idea how I would start a conversation. They would think I was strange if I just started talking to them.

  I picked up my pace so I could catch up with them. If I walked beside them, I could start a conversation. I wanted to know who they were and how they knew Max. The women were chatting, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I hated to interrupt, but with each passing second, I was missing an opportunity to uncover information that might lead to solving this murder. I was now walking right beside them. Looking over at them would be too obvious, so I tried to act casual, as if I was just out for a stroll.

  “Do you think we should still talk to him?” the woman next to me asked the other.

  Were they discussing Max? I should listen to the conversation as long as possible—until they noticed me.

  “Betsy, how are you?” I called out in a loud voice.

  The women looked at me with frowns on their faces.

  “I’m sorry?” the one closest to me said.

  “Oh, forgive me, I thought you were a friend named Betsy.”

  She smiled. “No, my name isn’t Betsy.”

  “Are you a vendor here?” I asked as we continued walking.

  “Actually, no, we’re just here looking around the fair.”

  “Oh, how nice. There are a lot of great things.”

  They studied me for a second, and then the woman said, “Are you a vendor here?”

  I smiled. “Yes, I have paintings at my booth right up there.”

  The woman looked in the direction of my pointing finger.

  “We’d love to see your work,” the other woman said.

  I thought they were just being nice. That worked out fine for me, though. This would give me an opportunity to talk with them more about Max.

  “I can show you. Just follow me.”

  We headed toward my booth.

  “I think we saw you earlier at the café,” the woman said.

  “Oh really? Yes, I was there. I don’t recall seeing you.” I wondered if my acting was believable.

  “You had that adorable little chihuahua,” she said.

  I chuckled. “Yes, he’s taking a nap right now. It’s a nice café. Do you eat there often?”

  We had reached my booth now, though I didn’t have any of the paintings out yet.

  “We just stopped by there this morning with a friend from work. You probably know him,” the woman said.

  “Oh really?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

  “His name is Max. He’s the director of this fair.”

  “Well, he is now,” the other woman said.

  “Yes, I know him.”

  “It’s tragic what happened.”

  “Yes, it is. Max is probably upset about it,” I said.

  I knew the answer to that already and hoped the women would confirm it. They exchanged a look. That was all I needed.

  “He is probably still in shock,” the woman said.

  “Does he have any idea who killed Evan?” I asked. “Maybe he mentioned something.”

  “He was too busy talking about being the director now.”

  The other woman shook her head at her friend.

  “What? It’s the truth. He was acting so strange. It was rather upsetting.”

  I tried to act shocked by her admission, but I wasn’t in the least. I’d seen Max’s behavior.

  “Do you think he had anything to do with Evan’s death?” I asked.

  I wasn’t sure how they would react to my question.

  “Oh, I don’t know. That sounds extreme. Surely he wouldn’t have done anything like that.”

  “I don’t know. He was acting strange,” the woman repeated.

  I took the paintings out from the storage container as I listened to her. I had to ask more about Max.

  “You said you work with Max. Where is that?” I hardly knew anything about Max.

  The women stepped closer to look at my paintings. “These are lovely,” the taller woman said, gesturing at the canvas with a lake and geese in flight. “Your paintings have so much personality.”

  ” Thank you,” I said with a smile.

  “He’s always been a very driven person, like he wants to succeed at all costs. No matter who he had to push out of the way or step on in order to get there.”

  “Are you friends with him?” I asked.

  “I suppose you could say we’re on friendly terms.”

  “He never tried to step on you or push you out of the way?”

  “We weren’t trying for the same position, but if we had been, he probably would have.”

  “And you like being friends with someone like that?” I asked.

  “It never really came up. Until recently, when it got worse.” She checked her watch, and I wondered if that was a hint that she needed to leave.

  “I suppose I understand,” I said.

  All I really learned from this conversation was what I kind of knew in the first place. Max was cutthroat, so I could see where he could possibly be the murderer, However, I didn’t have definitive proof, which was what I was looking for.

  As I brought out the paintings, I paused with my hands on Elizabeth’s portrait. I wasn’t sure what to do with it. What if someone wanted to buy it? Could I sell them the painting with a ghost attached? Regardless, I placed it next to the others. I was on edge waiting for the ghost to pop back up again.

  “What a lovely painting,” one of the women said as she focused on the canvas of Elizabeth.

  Now I was regretting bringing out that portrait. I should’ve left it in storage and out of view.

  “You know, it looks like the woman who lived in that mansion across town.”

  “Oh, the one that’s on the historic register?” the other woman asked.

  “Yes, that’s the one. Is that where you got the inspiration for the painting?” she asked.

  CHAPTER 12

  Travel trailer tip 12: Prep meals at home before you set out in your trailer. It’ll save time and require less cleanup. Plus, you’ll be less likely to feel the urge to indulge in kettle corn.

  That evening, after a full day of customers, I decided to take Van for a walk around the craft fair. I attached the leash to his collar and set off down the path. Van would probably insist I carry him back. His little legs only went so far before getting tired.

  The evening breeze carried across the wind, caressing my arms and shoulders. The heat was still hanging on, but it was slightly cooler today than yesterday. Streaks of red and blue filled the sky as the sun quickly made its descent. I figured I’d better finish up the walk soon. After all, there was still an unsolved murder. Nighttime would give the murderer plenty of places to hide. I didn’t want to be the next victim.

  I hadn’t spoken to Caleb since our dinner date. I’d missed his call and he hadn’t left a message. I was torn on whether I should call him back. I figured I would see him around, but so far, I hadn’t. I just so happened to be walking in the direction of his booth. Not on purpose. Okay, it was on purpose.

  Butterflies danced in my stomach as I neared his booth. I had no idea why. I didn’t see him anywhere. I caught movement and noticed a woman by his booth. It was Shar. I’d recognize her bright hair peeking out from that baseball cap anywhere. She turned and looked in my direction.

  I stepped out of the way and hid behind an adjacent trailer, pressing my body against the white-metal exterior. I hoped its occupants didn’t see me lurking around and think I was the thief or the murderer. S
har didn’t act as if she’d seen me. I recognized her, though. Why was she messing around Caleb’s trailer? She’d been spying on me the night of Evan’s murder too. Plus, Ruth said someone had tried to open her door.

  Was Shar the one who was stealing money? What other reason would she have for snooping around? What if she was the killer too? Now panic hit me. What if she was looking for Caleb to off him too? What would be her motive? I knew she’d been mad at Evan, but was she angry with Caleb as well?

  “What do you think she’s doing?” a woman asked from over my shoulder.

  As I jumped, Van barked.

  Elizabeth stood next to me. “Oh, did I scare you, Ms. Celeste? I’m sorry.”

  “Yes, just a little,” I said as I picked up Van.

  “I saw you watching that woman.” Elizabeth pointed to Shar.

  “She’s been snooping around trailers. I think she might be stealing from the vendors,” I whispered.

  “That’s not a nice thing to do,” Elizabeth said. “You should tell the detective.”

  “Yes, I probably should,” I said.

  “Of course, you’ve been snooping around too.” Elizabeth watched Shar.

  “Totally necessary,” I said.

  We stood in silence as we waited for Shar to make her move. If she acted as if she was going into Caleb’s trailer, I would call 911.

  “Should I go confront her?” I asked.

  “It could be dangerous. I think you should wait for the police to handle it,” Elizabeth said.

  Unfortunately, if Shar did something, I might not have a choice but to confront her. I couldn’t let her do anything to Caleb. There would be no time to wait for the police to arrive. Shar proceeded toward Caleb’s trailer. I moved out from behind my hiding spot and inched closer to her. She was by Caleb’s door now.

  Just as she reached out to wrap her hand around the doorknob, I spotted Caleb coming up the path toward his trailer. Shar noticed him too, because she quickly moved away from the door. He hadn’t spotted Shar yet. I knew she would act as if she hadn’t been up to something fishy.

  Shar took off in the opposite direction. I had to tell Caleb what I’d seen and hope he didn’t suspect me of snooping around. Okay, as Elizabeth had pointed out, I had been snooping around, but I didn’t want him to think I was doing it.

  With Van in my arms, I walked over to Caleb’s booth. At the moment, his artwork wasn’t out. It made the space feel empty and lonely. When Caleb spotted me, a smile spread across his face. At least that was a good sign. A killer wouldn’t look so nice, would he?

  “I didn’t expect to see you tonight. I tried to call you. I thought maybe you’d like to go for ice cream.” Caleb reached out and rubbed Van’s head, and Van immediately licked Caleb’s hand. “I bet Van would like ice cream too.”

  I chuckled. “Van likes everything. Except broccoli. He’s not a fan.”

  Caleb nodded. “I don’t blame you for that, Van.”

  “What about Gum Shoe? Would he like ice cream too?”

  “He hasn’t mastered the art of dining in public. He’s still technically a puppy,” Caleb said.

  “Oh, it’s tough. Especially when ice cream is involved,” I said. “Actually, the reason I’m here was because I just spotted Shar at your trailer. I don’t know that she was here for a friendly visit.”

  “What makes you say that?” Caleb asked.

  “I think she was trying to get in your trailer.”

  “Maybe she was just at the door knocking.”

  “I suppose that could have been the case.” Honestly, it hadn’t looked that way to me.

  “I can ask her if she needed something,” Caleb said.

  “I saw her at Ruth’s trailer too. Well, I didn’t see her there, but Ruth saw her. I also noticed her watching my place.”

  “Have you shared this with the police?” Caleb asked.

  “Not yet. I probably should, though,” I said.

  He studied my face. “You look stressed. What do you say about the ice cream?”

  “Stressed” was one way to put it. Ice cream wouldn’t do the trick to get rid of the nervousness either. Plus, I couldn’t just let my suspicions of Caleb go that easily.

  “Come on.” He motioned. “The ice cream place is just down the way.”

  It was a close walk. And it wasn’t quite dark yet, although it would be soon.

  I nodded. “Okay. Ice cream is good.”

  We moved down the path toward the main street that led into the fairgrounds.

  “Do you think Shar was trying to get into your trailer to look for money?” I asked.

  “It’s possible,” Caleb said. “This trip for ice cream is meant to help you destress, though. Talking about the crime probably won’t make that happen.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  Soon, we reached the sidewalk and traveled the short distance to the ice cream shop. A pink neon sign flashed the name Scoops.

  “I doubt they’ll let Van in the shop,” I said as I cradled him in my arms.

  “It’s okay, I’ll go in and order for us,” Caleb said. “What kind of ice cream would you like?”

  I peered in at the chalkboard menu on the wall. With so many options, it was a tough decision, but I went with my usual.

  “My favorite is cookies ’n cream,” I said.

  “Sugar cone or waffle?” Caleb gestured.

  “Sugar cone.”

  “No hesitation with that decision,” Caleb said around a chuckle. “Okay, I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

  When Caleb opened the door, a blast of cold air swooshed out onto the sidewalk. The whirl of a blender echoed from inside. He stepped inside, leaving Van and me alone on the sidewalk. Traffic was light, but a few cars still traveled down the street in front of the shop. No doubt the heat would melt our ice cream quickly. We’d have to lick fast. Van and I sat at one of the little iron tables out front. I watched the moving cars and a few people as they passed by, walking to different locations. Van seemed entertained by the action too.

  A couple of minutes later, Caleb joined us. He handed me a towering ice cream cone, stacked high with three scoops of white creamy goodness sprinkled with chunks of cookie. If I wasn’t careful, the weight of the ice cream would tip the small cone right over.

  “Thank you,” I said with wide eyes as I wondered how I’d make even a dent in the dessert.

  “You’re welcome.” Caleb took the seat next to me at the table and proceeded to dig into a banana split towering with whipped cream.

  Van watched us intently as we ate the treats. After discussing our art and the fair for a bit, I shifted the conversation back to the murder. I couldn’t help myself.

  “Have you spoken with the detective again?” I asked.

  Caleb shifted in his seat. “Yes, he’s been around a few times. I’ve told him everything I know. What about you?”

  I took another lick of the ice cream. “Same here.”

  “I suppose they think I may have had something to do with the murder,” Caleb said as he savored his bite.

  I was surprised he had mentioned this.

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “Just because you were there doesn’t mean you had anything to do with it. I was there too, so I suppose people think the same of me.”

  The thought of finding Caleb at the scene had crossed my mind a lot. The police had to think the same. Which meant the police had me on their list of suspects too.

  “You have a bit of ice cream on your nose.” I pointed at Caleb.

  He touched his nose with a napkin. “It’s good stuff, huh?”

  I chuckled. “Too good, apparently.”

  “What about you, Celeste? Do you think I murdered Evan?” Caleb finished his ice cream, saving the cherry for last.

  Never did I think I’d be asked that question over a scoop of frozen dessert. I couldn’t say yes. This was one time I would have to lie.

  “No, of course not,” I said, trying to sound casual.

  I wasn�
��t sure how well I had pulled it off. He stared at me, and my anxiety spiked. I had to turn this around. “What about you? Do you think I murdered Evan?”

  “It’s true, you were there,” he said.

  Oh no. Why was he having ice cream with me if he suspected me of such a horrendous thing?

  “No, I don’t think you would ever do something like that. So if that rules us out, who do you think did it?”

  Whew. I hoped he was being truthful. My brothers were already giving me a hard time about being a murderer. I didn’t like for people to think badly of me.

  “What about Shar? She’s been sneaking around trailers. Plus, she was mad at Evan that night.”

  Caleb leaned back in the chair. “I honestly don’t know. It sounds as if you’ve been thinking about this quite a bit, though.”

  I wiped my mouth with a napkin. “It has been on my mind quite a bit.”

  That wasn’t the only thing on my mind either. I wanted to tell someone about Elizabeth, but the last thing I wanted was for everyone to think I was crazy. It would sound completely insane if I said the person from my painting had come to life. Well, not exactly to life, but had been animated. I’d brought a spirit out of my artwork.

  “Do you have any other suspects in mind?” Caleb asked, breaking my thoughts.

  I cradled Van in my arms. He had given up on the ice cream now that it was gone and was napping in my arms.

  “Well, there were a few people unhappy with Evan. It could even be my neighbor, Ruth,” I said.

  Caleb chuckled. “That cute little old lady?”

  “She would be the last person you would suspect, right? That’s what would make it the perfect crime. She could get away with it because no one would suspect her.”

  “No, you’re right, they wouldn’t suspect her,” Caleb said.

  “You know, I get a strange vibe from Ruth. When we first met, she seemed nice, but things changed as soon as the murder occurred.”

  “Do you think she suspects you of being the killer?”

  “I think maybe that’s the case. Plus, I’ve seen her snooping around.” I paused as Caleb studied my face. “I’ve often wondered if she was the one taking the money.”