Kimberly looked around the room. “Is this unusual? I’ve been to a few openings and it seems as though they drew pretty good crowds.”
“True,” said Dulcie. “But we haven’t had many artist’s receptions so I really didn’t know what to expect.”
“Then I think it’s a sign of success! Good for you!” Kimberly smiled.
Dulcie was still trying to process what she had seen. She excused herself from the conversation when the twins, Tara and Mary, came over to chat. Dulcie decided to retreat to her office for a few moments to collect her thoughts.
She was there for no longer than two minutes when Linda tapped on the door. “We’re leaving,” she announced dully.
“What?” exclaimed Dulcie. They were barely half-way through the reception. Dulcie knew of several people who would not be arriving until the final hour, but who specifically wanted to meet Logan Dumbarton. They were very good supporters of the museum and Dulcie did not want to let them down.
“Logan isn’t feeling well. He wants to lie down. We’re leaving.” Linda’s voice was flatter than usual. She looked very pale.
There was nothing that Dulcie could do. She could not force them to stay. She simply nodded and followed Linda out into the main gallery of the museum.
Logan and Isabel were already heading toward the front doors, but Dulcie was not about to let them make a show of leaving early. Instead she whispered “Security measures!” to Linda and pointed them in the opposite direction. Fortunately, Linda believed her and they quietly left through the staff door.
As she returned to the reception, Bryce sidled up. “So our illustrious guest and his entourage have departed? Big surprise.”
Dulcie eyed him. He had on black jeans and a black t-shirt. Fortunately, this one had nothing printed on it. Dulcie had not made up her mind about Bryce yet, but decided that she did not dislike him. “Yes,” she said with a deep breath. “Evidently Mr. Dumbarton was not feeling well.”
“I can tell you exactly what he was feeling. He was feeling like he needed another gin and tonic, and you don’t have any here. I saw his sister mixing the one he had from a cooler she had stashed in the coatroom. You just have this champagne, which is actually not bad considering that it’s domestic sparkling wine and not really champagne. But I guess that wouldn’t have suited Logan the Great anyway.”
Dulcie was surprised that he knew about the sparkling wine. She had asked all of the bartenders to keep the bottles inconspicuously wrapped with cloth napkins. Perhaps Bryce was more refined than he was willing to appear? “You’re right about the pseudo-champagne, Bryce, but please don’t spread it around, if you don’t mind. We’ve had to be a bit conservative lately.”
“You’ve had to conserve a lot, I’d be willing to bet, considering where he’s living right now, not to mention the paints that he uses. Man, they’re freakin’ expensive! I’m sure you’re getting stiffed with the whole bill. Our fee for the class was steep for sure, but it’s not nearly enough to cover what I’ve seen.”
Dulcie had no idea the situation was so transparent. She could think of nothing to say.
Bryce shook his head quickly. “Don’t worry. I don’t think anyone else knows. I’m just very observant, and I’m good at putting two and two together.” He winked at her and moved away.
Dulcie still wasn’t sure if she liked him.
As the evening began to wind down Dulcie circulated through the room making apologies for the departed guest of honor. She tried to keep her own feelings in check, yet with every passing minute she felt herself become more angry. Finally the last group departed. Dulcie scanned the room. Only Kimberly remained. She waved Dulcie over.
“I don’t want to overstay my welcome, I just wanted to get you alone for a minute,” Kimberly said. “You asked me to be your eyes and ears, but I don’t have much to report, especially with Logan & Co. leaving so soon.”
Dulcie rolled her eyes. “Yes. Not the most successful of evenings.”
Kimberly put a reassuring hand on Dulcie’s shoulder. “I think everyone here had a pretty good time, so no worries there. I really didn’t see much of anything happening other than Bryce cozying up to Willow and leaving with her just after Logan left. I’ve noticed them in class. There may be a budding relationship? But that’s just me being a nosey Nellie.”
Dulcie tried to hide her surprise. Evidently Willow had interests in both directions. Perhaps Bryce would keep her busy, however, and away from Isabel. Dulcie could only hope. The last thing that she needed at this point was a sordid love triangle to complicate matters even further.
“Good to know! Thanks Kimberly,” Dulcie said.
“I also wonder…” Kimberly stopped.
“Yes?” Dulcie prompted.
“Logan’s sister, Linda. She seems so strange. She stares at Isabel in an odd way. Linda takes her orders from both of them, so you’d think she would be seething with the addition of Isabel, but the way she looks at the girl, well, it just doesn’t seem like anger. It’s more like she’s looking at a puzzle, trying to work it out somehow.”
“I know, Kimberly. The whole situation seems strange. I’m sorry that all of you in the class have had to deal with this. I’m considering cancelling the rest of the sessions and just sending everyone a refund.”
Kimberly looked surprised. “No, you couldn’t!” she exclaimed.
“Why do you say that?” Dulcie asked.
Kimberly laughed. “What I mean is, this is the most entertaining thing that I’ve done in a long time! An eccentric famous artist acting like, well, an eccentric famous artist! I’ve never seen that first-hand. The others agree with me. And not only is it fodder for cocktail party conversation well into the future, we all are actually learning something with each class session. Plus, the kids that are still in school will have this experience to put on their resumes, as they’ve mentioned. It’s a big feather in their caps to list ‘Master Class with Logan Dumbarton’.”
Dulcie considered for a few moments. “You’re right, Kimberly. I’ll still talk with the other students again, just to make sure that they’re comfortable with everything, but I won’t cancel the class. For now, anyway. But if it gets worse…”
“We’ll all come knocking at your door! Really, though, it’s simply good entertainment at this point. And as I said, we are all learning something. He has given us some good tips, in between the put-downs.”
“I just hope they’re more than the tips you can read in a book,” said Dulcie, still unconvinced.
“Truly, they are.” Kimberly slipped on her bright pink silk jacket and patted her hair. “I’ll still keep watch and let you know what I find out. I have to say, getting this little assignment from you has been a lot of fun already!” She grinned at Dulcie and wished her a good night.
Dulcie returned to her office, closed the door, and threw herself into her chair. “I’m glad someone’s having fun with all of this,” she announced. “Because I sure as hell am not!”
#
The next morning Dulcie decided to stop in at the Dumbarton house, ostensibly to check on Logan and see if he was feeling any better. She drove over at about ten o’clock assuming that the hour was late enough so that everyone would most likely be out of bed and at least starting their day. Dulcie knocked on the door but no one answered. The house was silent although the cars were in the drive. ‘Maybe they’re out by the water?’ thought Dulcie.
Glancing out toward the front lawn, Dulcie noticed a small figure curled up on the chaise. It looked like Isabel. Dulcie quietly walked out to her.
Isabel was wrapped in a blanket and staring out at the ocean. She looked slowly up at Dulcie. She gasped. Isabel had a very large, very fresh black eye.
“Isabel! What is this! What happened?” Dulcie exclaimed.
“I fell,” she replied simply and looked back at the ocean.
Dulcie cleared her throat. “Isabel, truly are you all right? You should see a doctor…”
“I’m fine. I fel
l,” she interrupted, this time without looking up.
Dulcie waited, but Isabel had nothing more to add. “Where are the others?” Dulcie asked.
“Still asleep, I expect. I don’t know. I got up earlier than them. That’s when I fell.” She was certainly insistent.
Dulcie had no idea what to do or say. “All right. I hope you’re better soon. Could you tell Logan that I stopped by to see how he was feeling?”
Isabel looked confused. “Feeling?” she said.
“Yes. Linda told me that he wasn’t well last night. That’s why all of you left early.”
“Oh, right. That’s what she told you.”
Dulcie was feeling more confused and awkward by the second. She thought she saw movement inside the house, but decided that it was not the best time to speak with anyone. She began to walk toward her car, but turned as soon as she was within earshot of the house. “You should put some ice on that,” she called out to Isabel. Dulcie wanted them all to know that she was aware of things being very amiss.
#
The master class students had set up in their usual spots on the lawn of Logan Dumbarton’s rented house. A damp, chilly breeze swept in from the ocean. Most of the students wore jackets. Bryce’s sweatshirt read: “If it ain’t broke…” Dulcie noticed him positioned slightly differently; he could now easily see Willow.
Logan Dumbarton had not yet made an appearance. Dulcie saw movement in the house, but decided against knocking on the door. She certainly did not want to encounter a scene like she had the day before with Isabel.
Dulcie wandered over to Kimberly. “Any sign of anyone?” she asked quietly.
“Nope,” Kimberly replied. “I was the first one here, too. I don’t think anyone has come out of the house.”
Dulcie nodded. Ten minutes passed, then fifteen. After twenty minutes Dulcie was getting annoyed. Really, this tardiness was intolerable! She felt that she had to see what was holding him up, and get him outside. She marched toward the door and knocked loudly.
Silence. Then a scurrying sound. The knob turned and Isabel stared at her, wide-eyed. Her bruise still looked horrible.
“Isabel, could I see Logan please? The class has already started and the students need his critique.”
Isabel stood in the doorway. She seemed frozen. Dulcie heard Linda’s voice in the next room. “Dammit, what is wrong with you this time?” She heard a loud slap. Dulcie pushed by Isabel and quickly walked into the house. She saw Linda standing over her brother. He was lying on the couch, motionless, wearing only a bathrobe.
Linda began to look frantic. She turned to Dulcie. “He isn’t waking up! I shook him! I slapped him on the cheek! He isn’t waking up!”
Dulcie quickly yelled, “Call 911!” to Isabel. The girl had begun to cry. Linda just stared at Dulcie. Now angry with both of them, Dulcie reached into her pocket, pulled out her cell phone, and dialed.
Logan Dumbarton was not breathing. By the time the paramedics arrived he had begun to turn blue. Dulcie had called out to the class on the lawn asking if anyone knew CPR. To her surprise, Kimberly said that she had been a nurse. She had rushed in and begun chest compressions. The other students had simply watched in horror.
As the ambulance pulled away, Dulcie realized that Isabel had disappeared. Linda had gone with her brother, but Logan’s wife was not in the house. Dulcie turned to the group of students who now seemed to be in a collective state of disbelief. “I’m going to make some very strong coffee. I want all of you to have a cup if you like, pack up your things, and head home. I’ll be in touch with everyone and let you know Logan’s status.” She had a feeling she already knew Logan’s status. He would not be continuing with the class. Or anything else for that matter.
A few gulped down coffee and they all left quickly. Dulcie looked around the house for Isabel but there was no sign. She heard someone in the kitchen. Hoping that it was her, Dulcie quickly went back, but found only Kimberly washing out coffee mugs. She looked up at Dulcie. “When I called this situation ‘good entertainment’ I certainly didn’t have that in mind!”
Dulcie leaned against the counter and put her head down on it. She groaned and looked back at Kimberly. “Do you think…, he’s… um… “
“Yeah, he’s dead,” she said.
Dulcie closed her eyes. “Do you really think so?” she asked.
Kimberly turned off the faucet and wiped the last mug dry. “Dulcie, I knew he was dead when I was doing CPR. It was mostly just a show for the other students. The paramedics knew too, but they’ll always try to revive someone. Most of what they were doing was just routine, though.”
“What do I do now?” Dulcie said out loud, not even expecting an answer. Her mind was spinning.
“Now you wait for the autopsy. Then you help Linda and Isabel get themselves, and him, home. The rest is up to them.”
Dulcie nodded. “Yes, you’re right. I am concerned about Isabel, though. I can’t locate her. I don’t know if it was the shock, or maybe she didn’t want anyone to see her eye.”
“Her eye?” Kimberly asked.
“This just gets more and more weird, Kimberly. I came over here yesterday morning to check on Logan. That was the excuse I made, anyway. But no one seemed to be around. Then I saw Isabel on a chaise in the yard. When I went over to talk to her, she had a huge, fresh bruiser of a black eye.”
Kimberly gasped. “How did that happen?” she asked.
“She said that she fell. That’s all she would say,” Dulcie replied. She felt her stomach turning over. The smell of turpentine had permeated the room from the studio nearby. The windows had all been closed. “The sooner they’ve all gone, the better,” she said, more to herself than to Kimberly.
“Dulcie, you look awful. Let’s go outside. I should get home, and you probably should too. Can I give you a lift anywhere?”
Dulcie shook her head. “Thanks, but I’ll be all right. I’d better stop at the hospital first, then go back to the museum.”
Kimberly rummaged through her purse and pulled out a card. “I’d like you to call me later today just so I know you’re all right. Yes, I am being a mother hen here, but that’s your payment for my spying services.” She smiled.
They walked out to their cars and Dulcie took a deep breath of the damp ocean breeze. “Yes, I will call you,” said Dulcie. “This will all sort itself out, I’m sure.” She was trying to convince herself more than anyone else but was, so far, unsuccessful.
I want to touch people
with my art.
I want them to say,
“He feels deeply,
he feels tenderly.”
― Vincent van Gogh
CHAPTER 6
“Good to see you back,” said Adam Johnson. “And I must say, you are always full of surprises!”
“Don’t even start with me,” replied Nick.
“Wasn’t going to,” said Adam lowering his large bulk into a rolling office chair. He’d been sitting in the same chair for years, and it was now a full six inches closer to the floor than the others.
“You need a new chair,” said Nick.
“Don’t change the subject,” Johnson replied.
Nick sighed. It was inevitable. Might as well get it over with. “All right, gimme your best shot,” he said.
Johnson walked his feet around on the floor in little side-steps, swiveling the chair to face his partner. “Naw, I can’t give you a hard time about this one. You gotta be going through hell right now. Or you have been going through hell and this is getting you out of it. I just have one question: Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
Nick considered for a moment. “Would you?” he finally said. “Here’s what I’ve got: a family who hates me because I’m a cop and not a lawyer, and a wife who won’t divorce me because she’s holding out for my money. It’s kind of embarrassing, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yeah, I’d say,” Johnson replied. “So that’s why you didn’t go for the little museum cutie?”
&n
bsp; “Not how I’d describe Dr. Chambers, but yes, that’s why.”
They both sat in silence for a moment.
“So watcha been doin’ these last few days away?” Johnson asked.
“If you really want to know, I’ve been, at last, extricating myself from the witch that I should never have married in the first place. I finally got evidence that’s irrefutable grounds, so she can’t string it out any longer.”
“Why was she stringing it out? Wouldn’t she get alimony or something if she divorced you?”
“All right. You might as well know all of it,” Nick said wearily to his partner. “My family has a lot of money. I don’t really. Ever since I left Boston and joined the force here, they pretty much cut me off. That was fine with me – I accepted it. However, there’s a trust fund from my grandparents that I come into when I turn thirty.”
Johnson’s eyes widened. “And I happen to know that somebody has a birthday in the not too distant future!” he quipped as though talking to a five-year-old.
“Yes,” Nick said, ignoring his tone. “She kept contesting the divorce, finding different reasons, just to string it along. If she could keep it from being final until after my birthday, she’d get half of the money.”
“I’m guessing it’s a pretty sizable sum,” Johnson said.
“Yes,” Nick said quietly. “It is.”
“Well then, sounds like you struck gold almost literally, and not a moment too soon. I have to say I’m happy for you, Nick. I give you a hard time, but you’re good at your job, and you’re a good kid. World needs more folks like you.”
Nick had been looking at the floor. He glanced up at his partner. “Thanks,” he said.
“Don’t mention it. Okay, pep talk over. I see ol’ Tommy over there getting all heated up. Looks like he might have something to tell us,” Johnson jerked his head in the direction of the office door. Nick swiveled around in his chair.
The Fragile Flower Page 7
