Exposed Negative: A Small Town Cozy Mystery (Shot & Framed Book 2)

by Nancy McGovern

  “It won’t die.” Allie went up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Dante, don’t do this to yourself. Don’t work yourself up into a rage.”

  Instantly, Dante shook her hand off. Then, realizing that he’d hurt her, he lifted it up and placed a gentle kiss on the center of her palm. “Sorry. You’re right. I need to drag myself back into sanity. Dad always makes me mad.”

  Allie only smiled. “That’s what friends are for, right?” She placed an emphasis on the word “friends” as she backed away from him.

  “Come on, let’s go.” Dante dragged her toward the door. “We’ve got so much to discuss about the play. I was thinking of cutting a few scenes towards the end. Maybe Othello’s monologue?”

  “It’s essential to his character!” Allie exclaimed. “We can-“

  “Dante, I have a question,” Dani said.

  “Sure.” Dante looked at her, then frowned. “Say, you’ll still be able to photograph for us, won’t you? You look… well, you look like a giant cat chewed you up and then spit you out.”

  “I’ll manage,” Dani said. “I just wanted to ask if you’d invited Paul to your party yesterday?”

  “Paul? That lumbering dodo? I’d never see him again, if I could help it. No, I certainly didn’t invite him. My mother must have let him in, not knowing any better.”

  “So you saw him at the party too?” Dani asked.

  “Saw him? I practically kicked him out.” Dante sighed. “I guess that’s why he’s being so difficult now. I couldn’t help it, though. He was drunk, and he would have made a scene. He had some wild notion of doing a face-off with Arthur. Two veteran actors dueling it out.”

  “What time did you throw him out?”

  Dante frowned. “An hour before Arthur’s speech. I caught him coming out of the kitchen. I was going in to grab some more tofu for Arthur.”

  “Ah, yes, Arthur was a vegan,” Dani nodded. “He’s the only one who ate that tofu, isn’t he?”

  “Sure,I guess,” Dante shrugged. “Didn’t help though, did it? He might as well have eaten bacon day and night. The end result was a heart attack just the same.”

  “Allie said there are some rumors floating around about what it was.”

  “Of course there are,” Dante laughed. “Rumors always float around when actors die unexpectedly. It’s the usual moronic talk. Drugs. As if Arthur would ever need drugs. That man got high on life!”

  “And beer,” Dani pointed out. “He’d had at least half a dozen in the space of a few hours!”

  “Perfectly normal for a man of his size and appetite,” Dante said.

  “But his room got broken into,” Allie said. “Isn’t that a little suspicious, Dante?”

  “Not at all,” Dante shrugged. “Probably just some paparazzo. Probably wanted to steal a souvenir or two and sell it on the black market. Deaths drive up prices, you know.”

  *****

  Chapter 7

  Dinner With The Family

  By the time she was discharged from the hospital that night, Dani had chased Dante and Allie’s words around her head several times. Could Paul, furious at being rejected, have decided to poison Arthur? It seemed unlikely but, then again, if Paul had been drunk and half out of his mind, who knows what he could have done? The fact that he’d been angry enough to throw a chair through a window said something of his passions.

  On the other hand, Dante had been a little too eager to dismiss all notions of there being foul play. And he had that fresh bruise on his face. Could he be the thief? Surely not. But she had seen a light on in his house around that time…

  Dani was deep in thought as her father helped her out of the car, and led her to the front door. When she opened it, three people jumped out and yelled loudly,

  “Welcome Home!”

  Dani gave a happy laugh. Sharon stood with a cake in her hands, Dani’s favorite - a soft sponge cake with strawberry jam on one layer and buttercream frosting on the top. Her other sister, Caroline, and Caro’s husband, Martin, freshly tanned, stood with a large, printed banner between them.

  “Caro! Martin! Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?”

  “We took a vacation from our vacation when we heard what happened,” Caroline said. “Oh, Dani!”

  “You shouldn’t have.” Dani felt a little guilty. “I mean, not for me.”

  “Of course, we should!” Martin gave Dani a little hug. “My favorite sister-in-law can’t get hurt without me being around to check up on her.”

  “Hey, I thought that title was reserved for me,” Sharon said.

  “I’ll transfer it to you when you save Caro from being put behind bars for life,” Martin grinned. “Till then, kiddo here is the defending champion.”

  Dani raised her hand and waved it about like a wrestler who’d just won a bout, only to have her crutch slip out from under her and fall to the floor with a crash.

  Laughing, Martin led her to the dining table. “We have to do something about Caro and all her anxiety,” he said.

  “I’m the oldest, but Caro’s always been the mother hen,” Sharon smiled. “Especially with Dani. She’s constantly worried about her.”

  “Well, someone should be, right? One day she’s photographing the Sahara Desert, the next she’s touring India and then I hear she’s in Finland!”

  “Iceland,” Dani corrected.

  “Obnoxiousness suits you perfectly,” Martin grinned. “Caro, she’s hale and hearty.”

  “Look at all these bruises!” Caroline fussed. “I was going to set you up with a friend this time but now with your face all swollen, nobody would…” she bit her lip, realizing that she was being insensitive. “I mean, nevermind. Let’s cut some cake!”

  If anything, Dani only felt more cheerful that she wouldn’t have to go through an awkward date. Ever since Caroline and Martin had gotten married, Caroline seemed to think that the key to happiness in this universe lay in wedded bliss. She’d tried to set up Sharon first but, when Sharon told her off in no uncertain terms, her focus had shifted to Dani.

  Sharon gave Dani a sympathetic glance and cut the cake up into neat little slices.

  “I don’t know how you manage that,” Dani said. “Every time I’ve ever cut a slice of cake and tried to transfer it onto a plate, I’ve ended up with icing everywhere and a collapsed cake.”

  Sharon laughed. “There’s an art to these things, kiddo.”

  The doorbell rang before Dani could counter her.

  Harry Hedley frowned. “It’s 10pm. Who could it be?”

  “Probably the pizza delivery guy,” Martin said. “No one had the energy to cook today.”

  “Did you remember to get me my favorite? Jalapeno, tofu and corn?”

  Martin opened the door and looked surprised. Instead of the pizza boy, a woman stood with her hand raised, ready to knock. Short and plump, with cats-eye glasses covering half her tiny face, she had bright-magenta hair cut short to her chin. Her face had a permanent look of cunning on it, as though every second she were calculating how to get the best deal for herself. She looked at Martin for a second and then asked to see the owner of the house.

  “That’s me,” Dani’s father peeked over Martin’s shoulder. “May I help you?”

  “Yes,” she said. “My name is Margaret Mushens and I’m here to pack up Arthur’s belongings.”

  “Oh,” Harry blinked.

  Without waiting to be invited, Margaret pushed her way through Martin and walked into the hall. Her eyes flicked this way and that, pausing to admire the photograph that sat framed above their sofa. It was one of Dani’s favorite shots. She’d spent hours lying motionless on the seashore, letting waves wash over her, until she’d finally captured a wave just as it was about to crash down, all from underwater. The colors of the wave had come out beautifully, near transparent, an icy green-blue, with a white crust on top.

  “That won the Leisure Magazine International Landscape Award last year, didn’t it?” Margaret asked.


  “Dani here took it,” Caroline said, a note of pride in her voice.

  Margaret looked at her, interested.

  Dani blushed. She’d always had this problem accepting praise. It made her nervous. “It took third place, actually,” she corrected.

  “Well, congratulations.” Margaret’s interest had already dimmed. “If someone could just point me in the direction of Arthur’s room, I’d like to-”

  “The police have already cleared the room,” Harry said. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. They’re holding all his belongings down at the station.”

  Margaret’s face turned pale. “What? They can’t do that!”

  Harry shrugged. “I’m sorry to say they have.”

  “How could you let them! This is… this is trespassing on his rights!”

  “Dead men don’t have too many rights,” Martin said. He’d shut the door and was leaning against it, his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t seem too thrilled with Margaret. “Especially not murdered ones.”

  “Murdered!” Putting a hand to her heart, Margaret stumbled a little, and collapsed onto a sofa.

  The family rushed over to make sure she was alright. Dani, whose sharp eyes had seen the split second of calculation before Margaret’s theatrical fall, stayed still.

  “Honestly, Martin. A little more sensitivity would have been appreciated.” Caroline said.

  “Maybe I missed it, but you didn’t really tell us how you knew Arthur, Mrs…er…Mushens,” Harry said, eyeing the wedding ring on her finger.

  Margaret sat up a little straighter. “Oh, this is horrible! Horrible! I told him not to come here! I told him he’d regret it.” She seemed to be talking to herself for a minute. Then, recovering, she looked at the others around her and said, “I am…was…Arthur’s sister. But more importantly, I was his agent.”

  “Didn’t the police inform you about-”

  “They told me I had to come sign some forms,” Margaret said. “I suppose the sheriff wanted to inform me of his murder face to face. I just thought he’d had a heart attack or something. Oh, but murdered!” Her tears were more genuine this time, as she broke down sobbing. The entire family gathered around her, giving her words of comfort that must have felt hollow.

  “What did you mean you told him not to come here?” Dani asked.

  Margaret sniffed. Her face suddenly grew blank, the cunning look coming back into her eyes. “Never mind that,” she said. “Tell me, do you think you could point me to a hotel nearby? I’ll visit the police first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Oh, no, we insist you stay here. Have dinner with us at least,” Harry said. “Sharon, do you mind making sure the guest room is in good shape? Caro, call the pizza delivery place again.”

  “Well,” Margaret sniffed. “If you’re sure I won’t bother you…”

  “No bother at all,” Harry said.

  Dani nodded along. She wished she could sit Margaret down alone but, clearly, a direct approach wouldn’t work with her. She’d need to tackle this sideways.

  The doorbell rang again and, this time, it was the pizza boy. Dinner, however, was a rather melancholy affair, with Margaret pausing every once in a while to wipe away her tears. Martin, who seemed genuinely sorry he’d been so blunt, was trying his hardest to console her. She soon fell to reminiscing about him.

  “He’s one of those natural born actors,” Margaret said. “Ever since he was three, he could do a mean Elvis impersonation. I was only two years older and, between us, we’d act out all our favorite TV shows. We were the Avengers, we were Batman and Robin. Oh, we always had a ball together. We were inseparable.”

  “But Arthur mentioned he ran away from home when he turned seventeen. Joined the army,” Dani said.

  “Well, that he did,” Margaret sighed. “We didn’t have the best childhood. Our father walked out on us when we were barely toddlers. Our mother worked hard, but it fell to our grandmother to raise us. Then one day mother died, too, and our grandmother passed away just a few years later. Luckily, our aunt took us in. But Arthur never fit in. I was quiet and got good grades while he ran wild in that little town. Our uncle did his best to “tame” Arthur, but it only made him rebel harder.” Her face softened as she thought back to her childhood. “I always tried to look on the bright side. I told him we were lucky to be adopted by people who loved us. But he… he was determined to be bitter. I think he almost took it all personally, as though they’d all deliberately abandoned him.”

  “I can imagine his hurt,” Dani said. She truly could. As someone who had spent years believing her mother had run away, Dani had wounds in her heart that had still not completely healed. Even now, when she knew that her mother had, in fact, loved them and had just been a victim of circumstance, Dani still had turmoil inside her. But at least their father had been a steady, loving presence in their lives. Poor Arthur had probably had no one person he felt he could depend on.”

  Margaret sighed. “I know he was stationed here when he was 17. He told me that Innocence was the first place he could call home. Before he moved out to New York and started working in the theater, that is. Innocence was a rebirth for him. That’s how he always put it.”

  Dani asked, “Did he mention anybody he knew back then? Perhaps we could organize a little memorial.” Or perhaps, they would lead to a clue.

  Margaret nodded. “I only remember him mentioning two names,” she said. “One was a girl and the other was an old army buddy who later settled down in Innocence.”

  “What were their names?”

  “The girl was Linda something and the boy was called… Henry? Harry? Yes, definitely Harry.”

  Dani and Sharon both turned to their father. “Dad? You knew Arthur? Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “Not me,” he laughed. “I was never in the army. But I think I know who it was. It should be obvious. Harry and Linda Hofstadter.”

  “Dante’s parents?” Dani exclaimed. “Are you saying Dante’s parents knew Arthur? But Linda acted like she’d never even met him before!”

  “Well, maybe she didn’t know she had,” Margaret said. “After all, she hadn’t seen him for years and Arthur Chamberlain was only his stage name. He thought it sounded far more regal than his real name, Marshall Mushens.”

  At the mention of his name, Dani saw her father turn pale, almost milk white. He played it off, changing the topic easily, but Dani could see his true emotions lurking under the surface.

  *****

  Chapter 8

  Mushens and Murder

  “Dad?” Dani woke up a little earlier the next morning and clunked into the kitchen with her crutch under her arm. Her face didn’t hurt much anymore, though the bruises had turned an even nastier color. Her foot, however, was another matter. She’d tried to put a little weight on it and ended up with a shooting pain and teary eyes.

  She’d grown up in this house, had run wild through it. But now she saw it through new eyes, spotting every crack in the tiles and noticing how the stairs were higher than was comfortable for her.

  Funny how the tiniest change could make you see things in a whole new way.

  Her father stood in front of the stove, staring out of the kitchen window while bacon sizzled in a pan. He gave a little start,and then pasted a smile on his face as Dani walked in.

  “You’re up earlier than usual,” he said, looking at his watch. “It’s only 6:30.”

  “Oh, I didn’t sleep so well.” Dani leaned against the counter, watching his face carefully. “How about you?”

  He’d stayed awake all night. She could tell by the circles under his eyes and his slightly blank, zombie-like expression.

  “I slept okay,” he lied. “Margaret and I were talking after you went off to sleep. Arthur had already paid this month’s rent. Instead of a refund, she says she’d like to stay here for as long as she needs to. I agreed, of course.” He slid a spatula under the bacon and moved them to a plate, then cracked two eggs into the pan.

  “How do
you want them?” he asked. “How about a Dad’s Special?”

  Dani grinned. Eggs were the one thing her father could cook excellently, and consistently. He was a keen cook, often trying new recipes, but in his enthusiasm, he would always alter something, resulting in either a complete mess or an amazing new dish. The only way to find out was to dig your fork in, and Dani had left many a dinner with her plate mostly full.

  “Dad’s Special sounds good,” she said. “Shall I make the toast?”

  “Don’t you dare.” Her father pulled a seat forward, led her to it and sat her down. “You’re going to get pampered while you’re here. Get used to it.”

  “I won’t mind that at all.” She grinned and took a deep breath. “Smells divine, by the way.”

  “And I haven’t even started with my special Pan con tomate.” Her father got out a tomato, sliced it in half and then poured salt on the open face, along with some minced garlic. Then, grabbing some freshly toasted bread, he grated the tomato along it, humming under his breath all the while.

  Dani’s mouth had begun to water but she focused her attention back to the matter she wanted to discuss. “You knew Marshall Mushens, didn’t you, dad?”

  He froze in the act of flipping the fried eggs over. Turning around, he pointed his spatula at her. “Are you planning on nosing around again, Dani?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. Last time, you nearly got yourself killed.”

  “It worked out fine in the end. Besides, you’re avoiding my question. So you did know him, didn’t you?”

  “Eat first.” He took the eggs off the pan and presented her with the plate. “There you go. Best breakfast in the world, if I do say so myself.”

  “Oh, I completely agree.” She speared the bacon, took a bite of the toast and eggs, then closed her eyes in delight as the flavors hit her tongue. “I’ve got an idea, Dad, you should open up a breakfast place and make just this all day. People will go wild for it.”