An Artistic Homicide (Lainswich Witches Book 11)

by Raven Snow

  “We’re not that hard up for information yet. You could have at least waited until we hit a dead end.” The way Rose said that made Rowen think that she had already found something out.

  “Have you already started on an article?” asked Rose.

  “Started? I already put one out this morning.” Rose nodded to her computer screen. “I’m working on another one now. I have the others out there fact checking and putting together pictures from the gallery opening. The blog is busier than it’s been in weeks. I’m just hoping that the server doesn’t crash under all the traffic.”

  Rowen shouldn’t have been surprised. Rose was always on top of things. “What did you find out?” she asked, interested to know what old fashioned leg work had turned up.

  Rose’s frown deepened. She looked back at her computer screen as if in thought. She was still mad at Rowen, but she didn’t have as much reason to be angry with her as Eric did.

  “Look, I didn’t tell you about my stupid plan because it would have put you on the spot with Ben. That and you would have definitely said no.”

  “Well, you’ve got that much right.” Rose relented. “You should probably read the article we already published. Anyway, Dayveed’s parents have already scheduled a funeral. He’s an only child. I reached out to the parents. I only got voicemail and asked them to call me back at their leisure. I made it clear that we weren’t looking to exploit his death. We were just reporting the facts and, if they wanted, we could run some of his work, make sure that people saw how talented he was.”

  “So, they haven’t gotten back in touch with you yet? Any word on whether or not they’ve contacted Channel 2?”

  “Not that I noticed,” said Rose. “I really think that the parents are torn up. They need some time. I’m not going to hassle them, and I hope Channel 2 doesn’t either.”

  “Any facts about them?”

  Rose shrugged. “It’s all pretty straight forward. The dad has a well-paying job as an accountant. The mother is a pharmacist. It looks like they have a nice little house on Lainswich’s outskirts.”

  “So you don’t think there’s much of a story there?”

  “I don’t think so. I mean, I’m not sure Dayveed thought much of them. I’ve asked everyone I could if they saw them at the art show’s opening and no one did.” Rose clicked her mouse a few times before turning the monitor to where Rowen could see it. On the screen was a couple. They were cute. The woman was blond and smiling. The man was almost completely bald and smiling even wider. They did bear a striking resemblance to the late Dayveed.

  “I don’t recognize them,” Rowen agreed.

  “Between that and them being so upset, I really don’t think they had anything to do with the murder.”

  “I’d hope not.” Rowen didn’t much care for the idea of parents murdering their own son.

  “What did you get out of Dayveed?” asked Rose, sighing like she hated herself for asking the question. It had to feel a little hypocritical, asking someone what they had found out after you had just finished condemning their methods.

  Rowen didn’t give her cousin a hard time for wanting to know. She was just glad Rose wasn’t holding any sort of lasting grudge. “The murderer was male and not an artist.”

  “And that’s according to Dayveed?”

  “Right.”

  “Hmm.” Rose folded her hands on the desk in front of her. “What we need is a guest list of people who were at that gallery opening last night.”

  “Do you think Ben could get it for us?” Rowen asked, hopeful.

  Rose shot her cousin a dirty look. “You know I can’t ask for that sort of thing from him.”

  “It was worth a shot.” Rowen considered their other options. “I guess we could try and get the guest list directly from Hawthorne.”

  “He has a vested interest in Channel 2 getting all the news exclusives,” said Rose like Rowen needed reminding. “No way he’s gonna give it to us. If he even could. I don’t think handing out that sort of information would make him look good.”

  “He might still give it to us. He has to want this thing solved quick. He also has a vested interest in not looking bad, right? That’s why he dropped charges on us last night.”

  “It’s not the same,” said Rose, pushing a hand wearily through her hair. There were some dark circles under her eyes. It didn’t look like she had gotten a whole lot of sleep last night. She must have been up preparing that article they had already published. “I don’t think he’s going to give you this. It’s a lot more convenient for him if he keeps Channel 2 abreast of the situation and lets the police handle the rest.”

  “Maybe I could get your mom to ask him. She’s always been close to Mr. Hawthorne.” That was putting it mildly. Lydia had had an affair with Hawthorne and had seen him a few more times in the intervening years.

  Rose squished up her face like she had tasted something sour. “You do what you want. Just don’t get anyone in trouble again, okay? I don’t want us coming under fire for anything related to this.”

  “Speaking of coming under fire.” Rowen hadn’t checked the news yet. She didn’t know what public opinion was like on the Greensmiths after the murder. “Have they reported the pentagram? Is anyone blaming us for that?”

  Rose rolled her eyes. “Yes, and of course they are. Why wouldn’t they be? Just ignore them. They aren’t all lined up outside the Inquirer with nasty signs. Let them think what they want to think. We’ll solve this thing, again. And prove them all wrong, again.”

  “It gets old though, doesn’t it? Always coming under fire for stuff like this. Why don’t we do an article on that?”

  “Let it go,” Rose insisted. “If you’re here to help today, I’d appreciate it if you did some proof reading. I had Willow do an article I’d like up soon. You know she tends to let the topic get away from her.”

  ***

  Rowen did as she was asked. It felt like a waste to spend her time editing when she should be out interviewing suspects. Rowen sat impatient at her desk, going through Willow’s work while her other cousins all quietly did work of their own. The whole time she kept glancing at her phone, hoping that she had missed a call from Eric or maybe even Ben. The idea that Ben would call and ask for her help was an enticing one. God, she wanted to be anywhere right now but in there sitting on her butt. It was in moments like these that she really regretted letting Rose take over the paper.

  “Hey,” Rowen blurted, giving the entire room a start. “Do you guys want me to go pick up lunch?” She glanced at the clock. It was about that time and not something she offered often. In fact, she wasn’t sure she had ever offered to get lunch for everyone. Her cousins exchanged looks.

  “Where are you going?” asked Willow.

  “Wherever you guys decide on. My treat for the rough night last night.” Rowen turned her gaze to Margo. “Except for you. You can buy your own lunch. I know you thought last night was funny.”

  “Whatever,” said Margo, turning back to her computer. “I was going out for lunch anyway.”

  Willow and Peony decided on a Greek café downtown. It was a little expensive, but Rowen could afford it. She went to extend the same offer to Rose. “I guess,” said Rose, jotting her own order down on the sticky note of orders Willow had given her. “You’re not making any other stops, are you?”

  “I might swing by Odds & Ends, see if they want anything there. I mean, it’s on the way.”

  “It really isn’t.” Rose waved for her to go on. “You know, you could just call my mom and ask her to call Hawthorne when she gets a chance. I mean, if you absolutely have to do that.”

  “I want to be there when she asks him,” said Rowen, feeling a little guilty that she still wasn’t being totally honest with the people she most loved. At least Rose could read her well enough to guess what she was doing. “I don’t want her to get distracted or… you know. Ask in an indelicate way or something.”

  “Just go.” Rose looked back at her computer scre
en. She wasn’t going to make a fuss about it which was a relief.

  Rowen got in the car and drove first to Odds & Ends. The Seraphina statue was the first thing Rowen found her attention drawn to when she parked. The second was the very nice car parked alongside hers. She didn’t recognize it as belonging to anyone who frequented the store. It was long and sleek and the windows were so well tinted she couldn’t see through them from a foot away. Rowen wondered if someone had parked there because the lot for something or another down the street was full. Rowen pushed that from her mind and headed inside.

  Heads turned when the little bell over the door rang. “Hi there, is there some-” Nadine stopped with the greeting as she recognized Rowen. “It’s just you.”

  “It’s just me,” Rowen confirmed, walking up to the cash register. “Is Lydia here today?”

  Nadine glanced toward the back, a brief frown creasing her brow. “She is, but she’s with someone.”

  Rowen looked at the curtain separating them both from the back room. “Is she giving a reading?” Sometimes they did Tarot readings and the like back there, but that was usually the job of Rowen’s mother. She wasn’t around right now. Rowen had never really known Aunt Lydia to specialize in divination.

  “Well, she’s with a customer, but they’ve both been in the back for a while.” She glanced at the clock. “An hour and a half at least.”

  “I’ll go see what’s up.” She didn’t hear any complaints from Nadine. Aunt Nadine could be too sweet for her own good. She was lousy at confrontation, even within her own family. Rowen went to the back of the shop and pushed the curtain back.

  Sitting at the little round table used for readings was Aunt Lydia and an older woman in a belted maxi dress. It took a moment for Rowen to recognize the customer. After a few seconds, the bright red hair sparked recognition. It was Lucy Odele, Seraphina’s friend from the gallery. “Well, this is a surprise,” said Aunt Lydia, idly shuffling a deck of Tarot cards.

  “Nadine was wondering what was taking so long,” said Rowen, her eyes straying back to Lucy. She should have expected to see her here eventually, she supposed. Lucy herself had mentioned that she would come by.

  “What’s taking so long?” Lydia glanced up at the clock on the wall. “My! It really has been a while.” She smiled across the table at Lucy. “Time sure does fly when you’re enjoying yourself, hmm?”

  Lucy gave Lydia a tight-lipped smile. “I suppose so.”

  Lydia looked back at her niece. “Why did you come here, though?” she asked, correctly reasoning that she hadn’t just come over for Nadine’s sake.

  “I have a favor to ask.”

  “Well, ask away.”

  “I was hoping that you could call Hawthorne for me. There’s something that I want from him.”

  Both Lydia and Lucy looked surprised by the request. “And what is that something you want?” asked Lydia, her eyebrows raised.

  Rowen glanced at Lucy again. She supposed that there was no harm in letting her know as well. The woman certainly seemed harmless enough. She might be a bit difficult in the same way Seraphina could be difficult, but that shouldn’t really have effected Rowen or any of the other Greensmiths. “I want the guest sign-in book from the evening of the murder. I want to know who was there that night. It will help me narrow down a list of suspects.”

  Lucy looked at Lydia. “Does your niece work with the police?”

  “Oh, no. She just does this sort of thing.” Aunt Lydia stood. “I can call him for you, but I’m not sure he’ll listen to me. Last time I saw him, we didn’t part on great terms.”

  This was news to Rowen. “What do you mean?”

  Aunt Lydia glanced at Lucy like she wasn’t sure she wanted to share with her there. In the end, she must have decided she didn’t care because she blurted it out anyway. “Oh, you know how relationships can go when you decide they just aren’t working out. Breaking up with Hawthorne upset him a bit, I think. He was too wrapped up in work and too serious about the relationship at the same time. Can you imagine? Not spending enough time with me but demanding I put more into the relationship.” Lydia scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

  Rowen stared at her aunt, startled. She wasn’t sure why she was startled. She should really be used to this sort of behavior by now. She had probably just figured that Lydia was still seeing Hawthorne on the sly like they had been off and on since he had been married to Seraphina. “Well… Do you think he’ll do you a favor?”

  “I can certainly try.” Lydia didn’t often refuse her family. She picked her cell phone up off the table. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” she said to Lucy, flashing her an apologetic smile.

  “Of course.” Lucy leaned back where she sat, her own mouth quirked in amusement. She looked at Rowen. “Have you already asked him?”

  “I can call,” Rowen said immediately. She couldn’t imagine what that conversation would be like, ‘Sorry about breaking into your art gallery. Hey, can you do me a favor?’ She could feel her face starting to burn red just thinking about that conversation. Granted, having your aunt call someone on your behalf was still embarrassing.

  Lydia didn’t look too concerned, apparently trusting her niece implicitly that this was something that needed to be done. She went ahead and made the call. Rowen could hear it ringing from where she stood, holding her breath.

  “Hello?” said Hawthorne. Rowen could hear that much. He sounded confused.

  “Hey there, Darren. It’s Lydia.” She probably didn’t need to clarify that. Hawthorne surely had her number stored in his phone. “I’m calling for my niece. You know Rowen? Of course you do.”

  Rowen cringed. She should have prepped Lydia for this phone call. She moved around in front of her, hoping to better communicate to her aunt what she wanted her to ask.

  “Well, she was wondering if she could borrow the guest list for the art showing. She’s trying to figure out who did it. You know how she is.”

  “I need the sign-in book,” Rowen hissed. “There was a book they made everyone sign when they came in. I need to know who was there.”

  “Apparently, there was some sort of guest book?” Lydia added. Rowen couldn’t hear what Hawthorne was saying in response to all of this but, based solely on Lydia’s expression, it didn’t look promising. “This isn’t because you’re still mad at me, is it?” asked Lydia. “I swear, you can be so vindictive sometimes.” She fell silent for a while after that, the frown on her face steadily deepening.

  All of a sudden, Lucy reached out. She motioned for Lydia to hand her the phone. “Let me talk to him.”

  Lydia raised an eyebrow but did as she was asked. “Just a moment,” she said into the receiver before putting the thing on speaker phone. She laid it on the table.

  Lucy leaned forward so as to better have her voice picked up by the phone. “Darren? It’s me, Lucy.”

  “Lucy?” Hawthorne’s voice sounded tinny through the cell speakers. He also sounded puzzled. “What are you doing with the Greensmiths?”

  “Just visiting some of Seraphina’s old haunts while I’m in town. I figure, if I’m thinking about moving here, it’s important that I like the area, right? I think this little New Age shop is just precious.”

  Rowen looked at her aunt and caught her furrowing her brow. “Precious” wasn’t really a choice descriptor for their shop. Most of Lainswich thought it was either kitschy or dangerous. Neither of those were Lydia’s favorite adjectives for this place either.

  “Fair enough,” said Hawthorne, not really sounding like he cared either way.

  “I would appreciate it if you could give that Greensmith girl what she wants. It should be easy, right? You do have that guest list, don’t you?” asked Lucy. Rowen wasn’t sure why she was trying to help, but she certainly wasn’t going to tell her to stop now.

  “That’s private. I already gave the police a copy. I did my part. I don’t need Rowen Greensmith hassling people I’ve spent my life doing business with.” Hawthorne wa
s clearly trying to keep his tone sensible, but it sounded like he was getting exasperated.

  “I would be fine with that, except… I heard from Seraphina that these Greensmiths solve quite a bit of crime around this town. Am I right?”

  Hawthorne was silent for several long seconds. “You’re not wrong,” he said, finally.

  “And I heard this Rowen Greensmith was instrumental in solving the murder of Seraphina herself.”

  “She did help with that,” Hawthorne conceded.

  “Then, I have to insist that you provide her with the aid she needs if I am to stay in this town,” Lucy declared simply. “I just can’t say that I will feel safe staying if there is a killer on the loose. I certainly couldn’t move here if that’s the case.”

  Hawthorne was silent for a while. It stretched longer than a few seconds this time. Rowen almost thought he had hung up until he spoke again. “Fine. Tell her I’ll have someone drop them off at that paper of hers. Not that I want to see any of this in the paper.” Hawthorne raised his voice. “I know I’m on speaker phone. Are you listening, Rowen? I’m not sending you this information so that it can wind up in the papers. Is that understood?”

  “I wasn’t going to publish any of it.” Rowen was offended that he even had to ask.

  With that, the line went dead. “You’re welcome,” said Lucy.

  “Thank you.” Rowen still wasn’t sure why she had done it, but she was incredibly glad she had.

  “Think nothing of it,” Lucy said as she stood. “Annoying that man is my pleasure.”

  “Because he cheated on Seraphina?” Rowen could only guess that that was it.

  “Among a myriad of other reasons.” Lucy walked toward the front. Rowen and Lydia followed her.

  Nadine looked up when they all emerged from behind the curtain. She smiled as if relieved. Running the store alone had to be lonely.

  “I should get going.” Lucy kept on walking once they were in the store proper. She headed for the door. “It was a pleasure.”

  “It was,” Lydia agreed. “Make sure you come back and see us again.”