The Point of Death: An Austin, Texas Art Mystery (the Michelle Hodge series Book 1)

by Roslyn Woods

  “Why would I know anything about it?”

  “I’m not sure. I thought she might have brought it into the co-op earlier and it might have been put away somewhere or something.”

  “You should ask Brigitte when the police release the place and we can open up again. She manages the inventory in that extra room with all the pieces we’re waiting to put up in the gallery. It could be in there. Besides, she will have noticed anything to do with you.”

  “Because?”

  “Because she seems to take a peculiar interest in everything you do. If she’d seen one of your paintings, she would have taken note about where it was put.”

  “Really? Why do you think that is?”

  “What? That she notices your work?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I can’t believe you’re asking me that. Everyone knows she’s jealous of you.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because, Shell. You’re talented. She’s not. Everyone could see that Dr. Leone took a special interest in you. You must have noticed.”

  “I did, but she was my advisor. And I don’t know why you say Brigitte doesn’t have talent. She does. Dr. Leone seemed to take a serious interest in all her masters students.”

  “But she thought you were going places. She complimented you a lot, used your work as an example for others to emulate.”

  “Maybe,” Shell responded. She felt uncomfortable agreeing with Lacy about this.

  “Anyway, I noticed a long time ago that Brigitte made a lot of snarky remarks about you.”

  “I had no idea,” Shell said, frowning.

  “Have you heard anything about when they’re going to let us back in the co-op?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Well gee, Shell, I’d kinda like to have the stuff in my locker,” she said sarcastically. “Maybe you have the luxury of taking time off, but I’m still working on my master’s degree. I have a lot to finish for my portfolio, and my best tools are in my locker.”

  “I imagine they’ll release the co-op in a few days,” Shell answered.

  “Is that all? I’m in the middle of a painting,” she said, glancing back toward the doorway that Shell guessed must lead into her kitchen.

  “Well, actually, I also wanted to talk to you about Jeremy Bird.”

  There was a long silence. Finally Lacy said, “What is it you wanna say?”

  “He’s got some issues, Lacy.”

  “I don’t understand what his issues have to do with me.”

  “He was living with my best friend till a few days ago, Lacy. She broke up with him the same day Dr. Leone died.”

  “So he was going with your friend. So what?”

  “After she moved him out, he came over to her house that same evening and ranted at her through the door. He threatened her.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “You know why. You’re seeing him.”

  Lacy’s brows drew together, but she didn’t speak before Shell went on.

  “The next night he smashed Margie’s windshield and the windows of her house.”

  There was another long silence during which Lacy just stared at Shell with a malevolent look in her eyes.

  “How do you know I’m seeing him?” she asked.

  “I saw his car parked here, Lacy. You’ve been seen together at UT. People notice things.”

  “That doesn’t mean we’re lovers. Anyway, what you’re telling me wouldn’t change my opinion of him anyway.”

  “Lacy, a judge had him served a restraining order. After that Jeremy went over to the bakery where Margie works and threw a wedding cake into a wall while threatening to slap her around. There’s a video of that, and Margie’s going to turn it into the police. He’s a scary guy.”

  “So why is it she sent you over here, then? If she has something to say to me, or if she wants him back—”

  “She doesn’t want him back, Lacy. I’m telling you for your sake because he’s dangerous. He’s unhinged! She doesn’t feel safe staying alone!”

  “So you’re staying with her, are you?” she asked with an amused smile. “You’re at her house keeping her safe?”

  “It’s not a joke when a person starts getting violent.”

  “I’m ready for you to get out of my house, Shell.”

  “I’ll go, but you should be careful. Someone told me that Jeremy was blackmailing Dr. Leone.”

  “Oh? What if it wasn’t blackmail?” Lacy asked, trembling with anger.

  What if it wasn’t blackmail?

  “Do you know what it was, then?”

  “I’ll be damned before I tell you! People think you’re so smart and so beautiful, but Brigitte’s right! You’re just a stupid bitch!”

  Shell turned toward the door. “Well, on that note, I guess I’ll exit stage left.”

  “Fuck you, Shell! I’m not the one who’s being dramatic.”

  “Just watch your step. I don’t have any reason to lie to you.”

  Shell could hear Patrick starting the car as the screen door slammed behind her. She didn’t mean to slam it. She wasn’t even mad, really, just weirded out. Lacy had always seemed pretty nice, but something had changed her. She had either fallen under the influence of Brigitte or Jeremy, maybe both of them.

  It was getting a little colder, but she didn’t slow down to button her jacket. She jumped in Patrick’s passenger seat and said, “Let’s get out of here before Jeremy shows up.”

  “What happened?” Patrick asked as he pulled forward.

  “Turns out Lacy doesn’t like me much.”

  “I said I didn’t think it was such a good idea.”

  “Oh, it was a good idea. I learned a couple of important things.”

  “What?”

  “No matter. Right now I need you to drive us by Irving Jansen’s house.”

  “Tell me you’re not snooping in his flower beds!”

  “I just need a drive by, Patrick. That’s it.”

  Chapter 25

  Margie had never felt this way before. She could feel her own pulse from the moment Donald had kissed her till she finally fell asleep in Shell’s guest room at around two in the morning. What was she going to do?

  This wasn’t a crush. She’d had crushes before. There was something indescribably wonderful about being with Donald, and pretending she was his girlfriend had only made her attraction to him more apparent.

  Shell had been right. It was out there, and now that Margie knew she was capable of feeling this way, she wasn’t sure she liked it. Donald had made it clear he was avoiding relationships. Even her own pretense at being his girlfriend had been a ruse to eliminate the advances of someone who wanted a relationship. And yet, she kept hearing him say things that sounded as if he was growing attached to her. “I just can’t stand it if you’re mad at me.”

  She slept fitfully and was drinking coffee and holding Tabitha when Shell padded into the kitchen the next morning.

  “You were out late!” she said.

  “I know. We ended up staying after most of the guests had gone.”

  “How was it?”

  “Fine.”

  “You looked wonderful. Did you get lots of compliments?”

  “Sophie—the wife of one of Donald’s partners—told me I was the belle of the ball.”

  “Did you feel like that?”

  “Yes, kind of. The fake belle of the ball. It’s all just pretend to get Geraldine off Donald’s case, but everyone else acts pretty excited that he’s finally with someone. They seem to care about him.”

  “How was she?”

  “If she wasn’t so rude I’d feel sorry for her.”

  “That rudeness is why Donald doesn’t like her, no doubt. He probably reads her pretty accurately. How did she look?”

  “Like she was about to accept an Oscar. Gorgeous except for that expression on her face.”

  “Did Donald talk to her?”

  “We weren’t together every second, but he didn’t seem
to. Mostly he took me around and introduced me to people and told this adorable story he’d made up about how we met. I think everyone is convinced.”

  “You look good together.”

  “We do?”

  “Yeah. I have some questions for him, but I think I like him.”

  “Questions?”

  “I’m family, right? I get to ask a few questions, don’t I?”

  “Don’t jump the gun, Shell. It’s all pretend. It’s not a real relationship.”

  “Yeah, well you’ve seen him every single day since you met, and he’s coming over tonight. Anyway, it’s nothing to worry about, and I’m taking the pretend business into account.”

  “While we’re on the subject, Donald wants to talk to us, just you and me, about Dr. Leone. He was her psychologist, Shell.”

  Margie’s blond friend nodded slowly. “I figured,” she said.

  “How did you know?”

  “Two things. First, TCEW was on her calendar for the morning before she died.”

  “Travis County Emotional Wellbeing!”

  “Correct,” Shell went on. “Second, he was too startled when I asked him about why he was at the memorial. He’s not comfortable lying.”

  “And he feels compromised about telling us things she told him in confidence, but he thinks we’re more likely to solve the mystery together than the police are. With all their resources, Shell, they still haven’t contacted him to ask questions.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “He thinks they don’t even know she was seeing a psychologist.”

  “But there must be a record of paying the center! Between that and the calendar on her desk—”

  “His point exactly.”

  “So he’s not willing to talk in front of Gina and Micky?”

  “Or Patrick. Just you and me.”

  “Okay. I get his desire not to violate her trust in him. Will he be willing to stay later to talk to us?”

  “I think so. He has to work tomorrow, but who doesn’t? Anyway, Pete’s expecting me to get half of this week’s cakes baked and ready for the freezer today. I’m also making our dessert for tonight over there, so I’d better get moving.”

  “What are we having?”

  “I was thinking I’d make a chocolate Italian cream cake.”

  “It sounds good, but does Pete mind?”

  “He’s so afraid I’ll quit even before I leave for cooking school, I’ve got him over a barrel.”

  “Because you’re good.”

  “He says it’s because I’m faster at turning out cakes than the last three bakers he had working for him, but he and Stanton are sort of fond of me, I think. Plus, they trust me.”

  “How do you get so much done?”

  “I don’t get it. There’s no trick to it. Anyway, I’ve gotta run. I’ll be back at three, and we can start cookin’!”

  “Okay. Gina should be here by then. We’ll be ready to take orders.”

  “What about Gina and our conversation alone with Donald?” Margie asked.

  “I have a feeling Gina will be talking to Micky about then. We’ll see. If there’s any awkwardness, we’ll have to meet tomorrow or something.”

  “Okay.”

  “By the way,” Shell added, “my landlord complained about the barking last night while you were out. I couldn’t believe it! Tabitha has hardly made a peep, but someone heard her. I think we should stay over at your house.”

  “Do you mind, Shell? I don’t think I can stand being alone right now. Not with Jeremy being so weird.”

  “I don’t mind at all. You have a guest room and a couch.”

  “But only one bath.”

  “We’ll manage.”

  “Thanks. Sorry about Tabitha. Are you in trouble?”

  “No. The landlord was actually kind of apologetic. I told her it would just be one more day and she said okay.”

  Margie had salvaged the good parts of the cake dummy that Jeremy had thrown against the wall. Really, all that survived were three of the styrofoam cake forms, but that was something at least. She planned to wrap them with fondant and start to reassemble them while her first batch of cakes were in the oven this morning.

  She mixed the ingredients for four carrot cakes and poured the batter into eight cake pans before getting started on the chocolate Italian cream cake. She’d brought some of her ingredients with her. Organic butter, eggs, cocoa powder, coconut, and pecans. Pete had said she could use whatever was in the kitchen, but she wanted organic ingredients for this cake.

  “Something smells wonderful,” he said as he leaned his head into the kitchen after she’d put the pans into the big oven.

  Pete was a tidy looking man and in his mid-fifties with thick, gray hair. Under the pink and white striped apron he always wore at the bakery, a lavender shirt collar and sleeves were visible, a nod to his sense of style. He had been wonderful to Margie when she had needed a job a year earlier, and his partner, Stanton, seemed to look at Margie with the same fatherly affection Pete did.

  “I’m making a very special dessert for my party tonight. It’s in the oven with the carrot cakes.”

  “Sounds good. Maybe I should have you make a few for the bakery.”

  “I will, if you’ll let me.”

  “I don’t want you to leave us, Margie.”

  “Oh, Pete! You know I don’t want to leave the bakery, but I’m going to go to cooking school. You know that.”

  “But you’ll still work for us won’t you?”

  “As much as I can, but you’ll have to find someone else eventually.”

  “I know. Just stay as long as you can. Stanton and I have grown very attached to you.”

  “I’m attached to you guys, too. You know I’ll stay as long as I can.”

  “So who is this chocolate Italian cream cake for?”

  “Just a group of friends.”

  “Anybody at the party you’d like to tell me about?”

  “What are you getting at, Pete?”

  “You said someone came in and threw your ex out on Friday.”

  “Yes, it was a friend stopping by to get some dessert.”

  “Is this friend a guest at your party tonight?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “I don’t know. You seem different.”

  “Okay, yes, he’s coming to dinner tonight and I like him, but we’re just friends.”

  “For now?”

  “Maybe for always.”

  Pete nodded and smiled knowingly as if she had actually told him she was in love with Donald.

  “I’m really sorry about my ex and the dummy cake,” she said, trying to change the subject.

  “It’s okay. You’ll make an even prettier one. I’ve got some little liqueur glasses I’d like you to look at. Maybe you could use them to elevate the top tier.”

  “Oh, I love that look! And I’ll do some gum paste rosebuds around them.”

  “Beautiful,” he said. “I’m going to go through the surveillance recordings tonight to find the incident, by the way. I’ll copy it for you.”

  “Thanks, Pete.”

  “And then I’ll know what your new friend looks like. Could Stanton and I meet him? What’s his name?”

  “It’s Donald. Why are you so interested in him?”

  “We just love you, Margie.”

  “He’ll probably come by sometime,” she said, hoping he would drop the subject. She turned and started rolling out some white fondant and was imagining the tiers of the wedding cake dummy with small pink rosebuds when she heard her phone dinging.

  “I’m going to guess that’s your new boyfriend,” said Pete, teasing her.

  “He’s not my boyfriend!” she answered as she walked over to the adjacent stainless steel counter and picked up her phone. It was Donald.

  What kind of wine should I bring tonight? Do you feel safe at the bakery?

  Just seeing his words across her phone screen made her heart skip a beat.

  She
waited thirty seconds before replying.

  I’m fine. Pete is here. Bring anything red.

  In another minute he replied.

  I’m glad you’re not by yourself. Will he stay till you leave?

  So, was he worrying about Jeremy showing up, or was he just interested in bringing the right wine tonight?

  Yes, she answered. Then she went back to working on the wedding cake while Pete smiled thoughtfully.

  Chapter 26

  The chocolate Italian cream cake, atop a frosted glass cake plate from Shell’s cupboard, looked magnificent. The lasagna was in the oven and was filling the apartment with a delicious aroma, and Margie was happy that dinner was under control.

  “Okay, ladies,” she said. “Time for me to take a quick shower. I don’t want to be a mess when company arrives.”

  “I’ll set the table,” said Gina. “Everything else already looks perfect, and it smells even better.”

  Tabitha barked her agreement.

  “I think I’d better feed her,” said Shell, looking down at the fluffy canine. “There are too many good smells to make her wait any longer for her supper.”

  “Thanks, Shell,” said Margie, and she meant it. What would I do without the support of my best friend? she wondered.

  Margie had donned her stonewashed jeans and the blue top she had bought a few days earlier on the shopping expedition with Shell and Gina. She applied light makeup and wound her hair up in a jaw clip and allowed her curls to tumble back over the top of it. It was a casual look that would keep her hair out of her face while she worked in the kitchen, but she always got compliments when she wore it this way.

  I know what I’m doing, she told herself. I’m trying to win someone who doesn’t want to be won. Just like Geraldine. How did this happen to me?

  Patrick arrived first amid a great number of protective barks and growls from Tabitha. He was carrying a bottle of cabernet and a bouquet of sunflowers.

  “She seems to be feeling better,” he observed.

  “Yes,” said Shell.

  “Leave it to Patrick to find sunflowers in January!” said Margie, emerging from the hallway that led from the bedrooms.