"Shouldn't you be napping?"
"I would be, if you would block your thoughts," Azure transmitted, along with an image of his sapphire tongue.
"Har, har."
In walking the two blocks to the gallery, I took in the gorgeous view of Main Street. I hoped that Bianca would either confess or at least have answers. But I pushed the anxiety of the confrontation out of my mind to enjoy the walk.
It was the perfect tourist oasis. Most of the buildings that spanned the four blocks designated as Main Street were the originals from when the town was founded in the early nineteen hundreds.
I adored the replica antique street lamps, sporadic art pieces and the one screen theater. It gave the town a quaint charm. Once I reached the theater I noticed someone had set up an easel at the mid-road grassy area, and they appeared to be painting the theater.
I figured they were a part of the Color the Town event. Each year the chamber and gallery would team up to host a contest. Artists would pick their favorite location around town and paint it. At the end of the week Bianca would host a party and everyone in attendance would vote on their favorite piece.
The winner received a cash prize, art swag, and their piece would hang in City Hall over the next year.
The art gallery was open to the public, but there were no other customers when I walked inside. The front area had a maze of short mock walls lined with large canvases, mostly of landscapes. They sprinkled the walls throughout the front room and stood about as tall as me.
I assumed she must have an office in the back, so I continued gazing at the artwork as I made my way through the gallery. I recalled my discussion with Jason and understood why he did not think his work would fit. It was hoity-toity.
In the center of the gallery stood three enormous metal sculptures, each made from what appeared to be scrap metal. Not that I could say what they were supposed to be. One piece actually looked to be rusting. As if it would turn to dust if I reached out and touched it. I leaned closer to the tiny white card displayed with the name and price.
Eagle's Flight
$37,000
I choked on my laughter and did my best to turn it into a quiet cough. Who in their right mind would pay $37,000 for a pile of metal?
"Hailey?" Bianca called from the back of the room.
It was as if she appeared out of nowhere. No doubt she hid her office door behind one of the art pieces.
"Hey," I said, between coughs. "Sorry, swallowed wrong."
If she knew I was lying, she did not say so. She walked with grace, in a colorful floor length silk wrap skirt. The various layers and double-sided patterns peaked through with each step. It was gorgeous, and I had to refrain from asking her where she bought it.
"Are you interested in buying some art?"
"Oh," I said, not sure how to politely decline. "No, thank you. I did recently commission a piece from Jason."
"Who?"
"Jason, David's boy."
"Oh, yes," Bianca said. "I was unaware he was an artist."
"Yeah. He does galaxy-scapes."
"Interesting," she said, but her face gave away the fact that she did not have a clue as to what I was saying. "How can I help then?"
"I thought you might be able to solve a mystery for me."
"What mystery?" she said, not betraying any sign of stress.
"Who's been painting the buildings," I said. "While I hope they're done, they still need to be caught."
"Sadie has been in a tizzy over those murals," she said, though Bianca did not appear distressed over them herself. "Do you think it's someone from the gallery?"
"I'm considering all possibilities, I mean, the person has talent," I said.
Better to let her think I was more interested in a random artist than herself. She was after all the prime suspect with her own building being tagged with an uplifting quote, rather than a distressful slur, like the rest of us.
"Well," she said and thought for a moment. "I can't think of a single person who uses spray paint as their medium."
"Anyone that focuses on calligraphy?"
"Again, that's not any of them."
"What about you?" I asked. "I mean I'm curious. What do you like to paint?"
She fidgeted with her hands, and said, "I don't paint much these days. Not enough time in the day."
That was odd. An art gallery owner not painting? I was not buying it for one second. That would be like an author not reading, or a baker hating sweets. It would never happen. At least not to the point that they would be successful in their craft.
Looking around, it was obvious that she ran a flourishing gallery. But I had no proof and pressuring her at that moment would have been counterproductive. So, I settled for the next best option.
"Could you possibly give me a list of those that display their work here?" I asked. "And the people taking part in the Color the Town event?"
"I don't want you pestering my clients regarding this matter."
"I don't mean to accuse anyone, I just want to ask around and see if anyone has gossiped about doing it. Where better to get in on art gossip than talking to artists?"
"Don't you think you should leave this to the police?"
"I did try that first," I said, "but they let me know that I needed to make an insurance claim. They will not investigate it. But my insurance wants a police report for them to be able to cover the damage. I'm stuck in an endless loop with those two."
I let the silence linger between us as she pondered over what I said. I hoped she believed me, as I had not actually called my insurance company yet. It was one of those things I had put off switching out of Tona's name.
"It's just paint," I said. "I'm really hoping that in talking to the artists, someone will come forward and admit it's them."
Bianca laughed and said, "All right. Give me a minute and I'll see what I can do."
She walked to the back and pulled back a painting of a lighthouse to reveal a small office. Inside was a desk, with an old monitor that looked like it was from the nineties.
After a couple of minutes, she came back out holding a yellow piece of paper with several handwritten names on it.
"That's the best I can do," Bianca said. "But I want you to know, I have full faith in the fact that it wasn't any of them."
"Thank you," I said, taking the paper. "I better get back; Aubrey will be waiting on me."
"Glad to have helped. Let me know when you get the artwork from Jason in. I'd like to see what he makes."
"Will do," I said and waved goodbye as I walked back outside into the bright afternoon.
CHAPTER TEN
Monday, April 13th
Once the cafe died off in the early afternoon, I sat down at a table with Aubrey to go over the list Bianca had given me. We knew almost every name, as they were either regulars or local residents. Tenny Blase really stuck out to me, mostly because I had never heard of the person, but also because it screamed fake. What would Tenny even be short for? Or did some cruel parent really name their kid Tenny?
"I didn't know Lexi painted," Aubrey said.
"Neither did I, but I'm pretty sure we can rule her out."
"Why?" Aubrey said and took a drink of her espresso. "Not that I'm saying I think it's her."
"Lexi has to be at the salon far too early to be prowling around at night looking for businesses to spray."
"Good point," Aubrey said. "She also comes in here daily, if it was her I think we'd have noticed."
"I still think it's Bianca. With her gallery being tagged with a nice saying, and the way she handed me the list. Just rubs me wrong."
"What do you mean?"
"She tried to brush off the idea that it could be someone connected to the gallery," I explained. "And when I asked for a list, she instantly came up with these. It just seemed out of place."
"Hmm," Aubrey said, she read through the list in front of us again. "I guess there is always the possibility that it is none of these people. Or that the tagger targeted Bianca t
o point the finger at her. She could be the actual victim, whereas everyone else was just a casualty."
"True, but her and Sadie have been teaming up for Color the Town for years. You saw how Sadie reacted to the graffiti, Bianca seemed like she was indifferent to how it made the town look," I said, and took a drink of my own espresso. "She was clearly hiding something. I think she's trying to throw us off her trail. She even went as far as to say I should leave it to the police."
"Did you tell her William isn't looking into it?"
"Yes and no," I said. "I told her I needed a police report for my insurance, but the police won't press charges until there was a culprit."
"Good," Aubrey said, relief clear on her face. "I don't know if that's supposed to be public knowledge."
"Johnathan is far too nice of a guy to do something this edgy," I said, crossing his name off the list.
"Yeah, that would be so strange if it was him. What about Julie?"
"Nah," I said. "Aside from her being in her eighties, what motive would she have? She owns properties around town. If anything, she's going to see her weekend places lose value from all of this."
"So, this Tenny Blase," Aubrey said. "Who could that be?"
"I have no idea."
"Honestly," Azure transmitted in a deadpan tone. "It's an anagram."
"What?" I transmitted back.
He was curled up in the window, soaking up the heat of the afternoon. I had not realized he was even listening to us.
"An anagram. You know, where they mix the letters up to make another word," Azure transmitted. "I mean I realize you are dense, but come on."
I laughed, and Aubrey looked at me like I was crazy. Which I guess, I was a little talking to a dragon in my mind.
"I just realized why that name is so weird," I said. "It's got to be an anagram."
"Oh yes," Azure transmitted. "Take all the credit."
"Does that mean I can tell her about you?"
He gave me a blank stare.
"That's what I thought. How about I cook you some salmon tonight?"
"That would be much appreciated," Azure transmitted.
"You think so?" Aubrey said, and I slid the paper over so she could start rearranging the letters with me. "You're probably right."
Well, Azure was right. I was just lucky to have him on my side.
"But why?" Aubrey asked. "Who doesn't want anyone to know they paint?"
"If they are on this list, I can't imagine that they paint anything risque," I joked, and we laughed together. "The real question is, does Bianca know?"
"No kidding, should we tell William?"
"Not yet," I said. "If he's not investigating it, I think he'll want hard evidence to do something."
"Probably so."
"I'll have to pay her another visit," I said. "See if I can get it out of her. She was nervous while I was there. Maybe if I show up again, she'll slip up."
"I love how caught up you get in these cases." Her smile was infectious as she said it, I could not help but blush. "Your eyes light up, and your whole being changes into the focus of a predator. It's intimidating."
I laughed at the idea of me being a private investigator. The truth was, I just cared about my town, and for some reason I kept stumbling into solving these things. There was no skill in it, unless paying attention was a skill.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tuesday, April 14th
Aubrey agreed to cover the cafe for me again, so I had time to see each of the murals for myself. I wanted to know what each looked like when I confronted Bianca.
Jess called me in a panic while I was getting ready, "Hailey, they tagged the store!"
"You've got to be kidding me!" I spat. "I'm so sorry. I'm about to walk out the door to check out the walls around town. I'll swing by and look at it too. It's got to be Bianca."
"But why?"
She sounded on the verge of tears. Which only fueled my anger towards the situation more. Someone needed to put an end to the malarkey already! These were neighbors they were lashing out at, whoever was doing this, was hurting people they knew personally.
"I'll be sure and ask her."
"I hope she has a good reason for this! I've got to go. Joshua is beyond angry."
At this rate, the entire town would be one giant hateful mural by the end of the month.
I pedaled my bike throughout the town, stopping at each mural to take a photo with my phone. I had a hard time getting past how beautiful they were. If you removed the calligraphy, they would be works of art. Each scene looked as if they carefully planned it with social media in mind. Once I reached the center of town, I saw the latest tagging victim. Vince Feed Co. was tagged all across their side wall, showing toward the street. So that way anyone passing by could not help but see a beautiful sunset with a silhouette of a farm scene plus "Come for vacation, Leave with a disease" scrawled across it.
Part of me wanted to go inside and share in the outrage of what had happened, but I knew that would not change the words. Instead, the best thing I could do was solve the case, and stop it from happening to anyone else.
It was not a far ride from the feed store to the art gallery. Once again, the building was empty. When did people come to buy art?
Bianca came out of her hidden office to greet me, "What do I owe for this? Two visits in two days."
"I'm still trying to solve the graffiti mystery," I said. "Vince Feed Co. was just tagged."
"Oh, my!" she said.
"Yeah. They left 'Come for vacation, Leave with a disease' on the wall nearest the road."
"That's horrible," she said, though her tone did not match her conviction.
"Right, so to cut through the small talk, is it you?" I asked.
I kept my face neutral and tone flat as I was not in the mood for a fight. I just wanted to get the accusation out in the open already.
Bianca's face went pale, but she did not deny it. For a moment I thought she would pass out. Instead, she gestured for me to follow.
We walked to the back, behind a door disguised as a painting of a sailboat, into a storeroom full of canvases. Most of them were blank, and still in the plastic wrap. There were a few shelving units that held more landscapes similar to what graced the showroom floor.
"You have to swear not to tell a soul," she said.
Her expression remained grave, and I was starting to second guess the idea of coming here and accusing her. Should I have brought Azure? I mean, he could have pulled a Lassie and got Aubrey to follow him back, right?
"I can't," I said. "You have to turn yourself in."
"It's just that," she shook her head and let out a lengthy sigh. "Okay, let me just show you, and you'll understand."
She led me into the large storeroom, and to the back. An easel was set up with a sheet hanging over it, hiding the canvas underneath. Along the back wall there were canvases stacked upside down. They seemed painted, so it was strange to see them not shown the same care as the ones at the front of the room.
"Please don't laugh," she said.
When she lifted the sheet, it took a fair measure of self-control not to laugh. The canvas underneath was marked with a painting that looked to be done by a five-year-old who had forgotten what they were drawing. To call it modern art would insult the modernist. In truth, it was just a bunch of paint marks on canvas. There was nothing there, in the way of an image to connect with.
"I've been teaching myself," Bianca whispered.
"What? I. . ." It flabbergasted me.
"It's the truth," she said. "I can't paint."
She flipped through a few of the stacks on the floor to show me more examples of her artwork. They were the same, strange marks on canvases. Odd choices in colors, poor blending, and mostly looking like someone made a mistake, then tried to fix it, without it ever actually working out.
"But you teach."
"No," she shook her head. "I host classes where a local comes in and leads a group. I offer the facility and sell the w
orks, but I don't teach."
I never knew. I doubted anyone in the town did. With her mother being a renowned landscape artist, I was sure that if asked, everyone would have been sure she followed in her footsteps. Talent and all. But upon reflection, I realized I had not once seen a piece of art with her name on it. It was just an assumption I had held, as my parents had her mother's artwork in our home.
"I didn't realize."
"No one does," she said. "It's my darkest secret, and you have to swear not to tell. It could kill my business."
I took a step away from the canvas. Part of me wanted to swear, but I also knew that I had to tell Azure, Aubrey, and Jess. How else would we solve the case without it?
"I can't," I said. "I have to tell my closest friends. We're solving the case together."
Bianca's face dropped and tears welled up in her eyes. I fidgeted with my hands as I tried to figure out a way to fix the situation. I did not want to post her secret around town, and it was far too personal to leave without coming to some sort of agreement.
"Have you ever tried another medium?" I asked. "There're loads more to art than just painting."
"I've always wanted to be able to create something beautiful for others to hang on their walls and admire."
"There's all sorts of art that isn't painting, that goes up on walls," I said. "What about the metal sculptures? I know you've sold some that hang on walls."
"I cut my fingers trying my hands at that," she said and wrung her hands together as if remembering the pain of the cuts.
"When I was in high school, it upset my parents when I told them I wanted to run the cafe with Aunt Tona," I explained. "When they found out, I was only going to college to learn how to run the business better, they refused to pay a single penny towards it. Thankfully, I had the support of Aunt Tona, but still. It was paramount that I follow my own passion. You know?"
"I guess."
"You have to find your own passion," I said. "Don't try to be the other artists you admire. Or even your mother. Be your own artist. If I had followed my parents dreams for me, I would be working in a corporate job hating every day of it."
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