Deadly Deception (An Artisan Mystery Book 1)

by Patricia H. Rushford

  She sighed. And if her killer showed up there would be four.

  Arrgh. Why did she let herself think of these things?

  After putting away her groceries and dishing up a plate of salad and chicken she settled down to eat. The place seemed empty and Carolyn shrugged aside her building anxiety. Since the lights were on in the main part of the house, Carolyn assumed that Mrs. Owens was home.

  “What’s wrong with you?” She was used to being alone. Loved having time to herself to create her art. Humph. It didn’t take a genius to understand that with all she’d been through; with the threats on her life and having her work destroyed and Katherine, Michael and Marla attacked, that she’d be a little uneasy. A little?

  She finished her meal and picked up her bag, digging out the photo Emily had given her.

  This one was larger and would be easier to work with. He’d been a handsome man with caring eyes. Once again, Carolyn puzzled over her grief and the feeling of loss. A knock from Mrs. Owen’s side of the house drew her attention away from her musings. A look through the peephole sent her heart to skittering. “Michael.”

  “Hey, you’re back.” She opened the door and stepped into his embrace.

  “Couldn’t stay away.” He moved them further into her apartment and closed the door.

  “How did you get here?”

  “I drove.” He raised a hand to stop her from chastising him. “I know I shouldn’t have, but it’s not all that far.”

  Carolyn was too happy to have him there to argue. “Um. I just ate, but I have some chicken and salad.”

  He grinned. “I’d like that.”

  “Sit while I reheat the chicken and fix you a plate.” She covered the plate with a glass lid top and hit the two-minute button.

  “I’m surprised to see you. I didn’t think you’d be coming back.” She shrugged. “You were pretty grumpy.”

  “I wanted to hear about the reception. Anything jump out at you? Any problems?”

  The beeper went off and she dropped a helping of broccoli salad on the plate and brought it to him. “A couple of things. I was going to call Doug in the morning—since you’re not on the case.”

  He pierced a piece of the chicken thigh. “Doesn’t keep me from staying abreast of the situation. Besides, Doug has a full plate right now and asked me to talk with you.”

  “Well, there is something. I overheard a couple talking as they were coming out of the house and I was going in. They mentioned being sad about Adam’s death and then the woman said, “Do you think Emily will marry that….” I couldn’t hear the rest of it.”

  He frowned. “Sounds as if she was implying that Emily has been seeing someone?”

  “Right. Which makes me wonder if Adam’s death was premeditated—that she or her lover wanted him dead so they could move on.”

  “Hmm. Definitely a possibility. We look hard at the spouse in murder cases.”

  He eyed the broccoli salad and forked another piece of chicken. “We didn’t find a motive for her and her alibi is her son. They apparently went home after Adam offered to take you home.”

  Carolyn gasped. “You never told me that. So he was taking me home?” Carolyn closed her eyes trying to remember what had happened after the dinner. Had she been in Adam’s car? Had he driven her home? If so, how had they both ended up in the hotel room? She had no idea. “I’m sorry. I can’t remember.”

  “Don’t worry about it. The brain is a complicated organ. You may never remember parts of that night, but some of it could come back.

  Carolyn nodded. “I was surprised to see Greta and some of her friends there. They came out before I went inside. I thought it odd that they would go to the funeral.”

  “Maybe not. Greta and her group got a lot of support from Burke. He was an environmentalist and in fact, when we checked into his financials we saw that he’d recently made a significant contribution to them. Around ten-thousand dollars.”

  “Then why were they protesting at the fundraiser?”

  “To gain attention. One of the big issues facing us right now are the oil trains traveling along the Columbia River. They probably saw the fundraiser as a huge opportunity to get the message across.”

  “True. Adam’s opponent is all for that oil refinery. He was there before the dinner.”

  “Again, that was likely for the publicity.”

  “I don’t trust him.”

  “Trenton has an alibi for later that night, but we’ll check out Emily again and look for a possible lover. Anything else?”

  She chewed on her lip wondering if she should say anything about the meeting with Emily and Brian. She capitulated. “Emily and Brian asked me to the house on Tuesday. Apparently they need to discuss something with me. They asked me not to tell anyone but . . ..”

  “Telling me was the right thing to do.” He squeezed her hand. He looked as though he wanted to say something. Instead he set his nearly empty plate on the coffee table and drew her closer. His kiss was sweet and at the same time distant.

  She leaned back. “What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”

  He leaned back against the cushions. “Did Emily or Brian give you any indication of what this meeting was about?”

  “No. They wanted me to come alone and not tell anyone.” She picked up his plate and sent him a reproachful look. “You don’t like veggies?”

  He shrugged. “Broccoli isn’t my favorite.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Back to Emily’s request. Did they give you a time to be there?”

  “At ten a.m.” She rinsed off the plate and set in the dishwasher. “You don’t think they’d try to off me?”

  He chuckled. “Not likely, but I think I know what it’s about. Their attorney told us there’d be a reading of Burke’s will on Tuesday.”

  “What could that possibly have to do with me?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me?” She heard censure in his tone.

  “I … you . . .. Are you saying I’m mentioned in his will?”

  “Doug passed the information along to me. He’s hoping you can tell us something about it.”

  Her stomach churned, threatening to toss back the meal she’d eaten. Michael and undoubtedly Detective Calhoun thought she knew. “I had no idea.”

  He gave her an assessing look. “So Burke never said anything to you about . . ..?”

  He didn’t believe her. She pressed her lips together pushing back a building rage. “You think I killed him for the money? You think I drugged myself and . . ..” She couldn’t go on.

  “I don’t know what to think. We have to look at who stands to gain from Burke’s death.” He seemed conflicted but she wasn’t about to back down.

  “I had nothing, nothing to do with Adam Burke’s death. I had no idea I’d be listed in his will. Maybe he felt sorry for me and wanted to help a poor starving artist.” Tears choked off her words.

  “There’s one more thing I need to ask you about.” Michael dreaded doing this. Doug had asked him to as a favor and because he thought Carolyn would be more forthcoming if the question came from him.

  She clenched her jaw and turned away from him.

  “It’s about the bracelet.”

  She whipped her head around sending her blonde curls flying. “What? What bracelet?”

  “At the hospital. The policewoman who interviewed you and took your clothes reported that you were wearing an expensive looking bracelet and that you’d said it wasn’t yours.”

  Carolyn frowned. “I—I remember her taking it. I don’t know where it came from.”

  “Well, we do. Turns out it was one of the items stolen from Emily Burke about three weeks ago. She and Adam had come home one night to find their house had been broken into.”

  Carolyn’s eyes widened. “I would never do something like that.”

  “Okay. Say you’re telling the truth. Where did it come from?” Michael pressed. He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and console her. He
believed her—or wanted to. But he had to ask. He had to be objective.

  She covered her mouth as a sob escaped. “I don’t know where it came from. I’d never seen it before that night. The killer must have put it on my wrist.”

  “Why would he do that?” Michael remembered seeing the bracelet on her wrist that night. He remembered seeing a lot of things. “It makes no sense.”

  Whoever had stolen the items from the Burke home was likely the killer. The intricate web the killer had woven pulled Carolyn deeper and deeper into its depths. He could only hope they were able to figure out who it was before he managed to kill her as well.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Carolyn buried her hands in her face. What next? She felt sanity slipping away. Who was doing this to her and why? The worse part of it all was that Michael and Doug didn’t believe her. Doug had urged Michael to confront her. Michael was conflicted and she could see the doubt in his eyes. She needed time to think.

  “Are you going to arrest me?”

  “No. Right now all we have is questions.” Michael looked miserable.

  “You need to leave. Now.”

  “Carolyn.” He rose and held out his arms as though he wanted to comfort her.

  “No.” She stepped away. “I thought you were on my side. I want you out of here.”

  “I am on your side. At least I want to be.”

  She pointed toward the door. Her jaws clenched tight, she managed to maintain her anger until the door closed behind him. Carolyn crumbled to the floor, letting grief, humiliation and the deception wash over her.

  Michael and the others no longer trusted her. She was back on the suspect list. It didn’t make sense. Why would Adam Burke name her in his will? How had Emily’s bracelet gotten on her arm?

  Michael wished he’d kept his mouth shut about the will and the bracelet. He knew from Carolyn’s reaction that she’d known nothing about either of them. The attorney had provided a list of names but none of the details. He invited them to come to the reading and Doug planned to do just that. Michael shook his head. A mess he’d made of things. He wasn’t supposed to be working the case at all and yet, here he was back in the thick of it. He appreciated Doug keeping him informed, but right now he wished Doug had kept these new details to himself.

  More than anything he wanted to go back inside. Hold Carolyn and tell her that he believed in her innocence.

  Yet, there was the slight chance that Carolyn had deceived them all. Had Burke told her that he planned to name her in his will? Michael been lied to before. Did he trust Carolyn Hudson?

  The detective in him had to question, had to look at means, motive and opportunity. Objectivity. Had he lost it where Carolyn was concerned?

  According to Emily, Adam Burke had offered to take Carolyn home. Had Carolyn been the last person to see him alive? Had she lured him into that hotel room?

  “There's no way,” he muttered aloud. “The evidence provided a much different picture.” He supposed she could have had an accomplice, but Carolyn couldn’t have killed Burke. She’d been set up and drugged. He couldn’t accept where his thoughts were taking him. Carolyn was as much a victim as Burke. So who had killed Adam? And who was still after Carolyn?

  Having Carolyn named in the will must have been a shock to Emily and Brian. Had they known about Adam’s will early on? He sighed. Maybe this was the wrong trail too. Burke may have given Carolyn a few thousand. The Burkes might not have a problem with it at all.

  He thought about going back to the room he’d rented from Mrs. Owens or maybe heading home, but he couldn’t just leave Carolyn there alone. He texted Marla, asking if she planned on staying with Carolyn overnight.

  She texted back that she’d been assigned to the night shift. “Will drive by a few times.”

  He texted back that he’d keep watch during the night.

  His car was parked in the wide driveway giving him a good view of Carolyn’s outer door. He dropped his cell phone into his pocket and headed for his car. He’d taken only a couple of steps when he heard a noise. Before he could turn around something hit him from behind and everything went black.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Carolyn didn’t know how long she’d been on her knees. Her sobs subsided and turned to prayers. “Lord, help me understand what’s going on.” She’d always been able to overcome whatever adversity befell her. Her faith bolstered her. This would be no different. Resolve moved her off her knees. After blowing her nose and washing her face, she brewed some Lady Gray tea and headed for her studio.

  Painting never failed to restore her so it was no wonder she retreated there. She’d done the underpainting of Adam’s portrait in acrylics and would complete it in oils. She loved working in oils. They gave paintings that extra richness she strived for.

  Carolyn pulled out the drawer containing her oil painting supplies and set them on the table to the right of her easel. She began to enhance the background in forest green, gray, purple and dark crimson. Setting her tea on the table reminded her of a time in one of her art classes in college where she mistakenly picked up her paint thinner for her drink. Fortunately, the smell alerted her before it reached her lips. The thinner she’d used then had been caustic. Though it was still available, she now used an odorless thinner.

  She took the photo of Adam Burke out of its frame and clipped it to the top of her easel. Again an unexplained sense of loss came over her. She shook the feelings aside and focused on the colors she needed to achieve the right skin color and tone.

  Carolyn heard the door open and realized she’d forgotten to lock it behind Michael. She turned, expecting to see Michael or Marla. It was neither. “What are you doing here?”

  Greta stood in the doorway. Light glinted off the blade of the butcher knife she wielded.

  Carolyn took a step back, dropping the tube of paint and raised her hands. “What do you want?”

  “You.” Greta sneered.

  “I don’t understand.” Carolyn took another step back as Greta advanced toward her. Her heart raced and her throat constricted. This crazed woman meant to kill her. “Why are you doing this?”

  Greta’s shrill, frenetic laugh filled the room making it hard for Carolyn to catch her breath. Greta stopped in front of the easel. “You don’t see it, do you?”

  Carolyn shook her head. “What do you mean?”

  “And you’re supposed to be the smart one.” She ripped the photo off the easel and shoved it at Carolyn. “Take a good look and don’t tell me you don’t see it. You look just like him.”

  “I…I don’t understand.”

  “He’s your father. Our father. He abandoned us, the great Adam Burke walked away from our mother and she killed herself.”

  “That’s not possible.” Carolyn covered her mouth.

  “Oh, really? Well it is not only possible, it’s true.” Greta raised the knife. Carolyn ducked expecting it to sink into her back. Instead Greta drove it into the canvas and slashed the painting, then pulled the knife out and slashed at the painting again. “He deserved to die.”

  “You killed him.” Carolyn straightened and took another step back coming up against the wall.

  The hatred in Greta’s eyes revealed more than words ever could.

  “Why?” Carolyn gasped.

  “He deserted us. All these years of foster homes and abuse. He could have saved us from all that, but he didn’t. He let us live in poverty our whole lives.”

  Carolyn closed her eyes trying to wrap her brain around Greta’s accusations. “Please. I don’t understand what you’re saying. You’re my sister?”

  “Your twin.” Her lips pressed together into a thin line.

  “How is that possible? We don’t look anything alike.”

  “You really are dense,” she sneered. “Even hear of fraternal twins?”

  Carolyn still couldn’t believe it. “How long have you known?”

  “You are so naïve. You actually believe the great Adam Burke fell in love with you
r paintings?” Greta sneered. “We both know your stuff isn’t that great. Three weeks ago he gave me a huge donation for the environmental group. Said he had just found out about us and wanted to make it up to us. The liar. He had to have known.”

  “He’s not listed on my birth certificate.”

  “Mine either, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t our father. He paid our mother not to list him.”

  “How do you know this?” Carolyn inched to the side. She had to find a way to disarm the woman.

  “Our mother—or rather my mother told me.”

  “I thought she killed herself.”

  “She did eventually. She left you on the doorstep of the church. Kept me—for all the good that did. You grew up in homes where people were good to you. She was an addict and the drugs killed her when I was about ten. The state put me in the foster care system.” Bitterness punctuated her words.

  “You’re not making sense,” Carolyn insisted. “I was in foster homes too and I didn’t ever know my mother. I never knew any of this.”

  “So now you do.”

  “Why do you hate me so much and why do you want me dead?” Carolyn asked, more to keep her talking than anything. She wished she hadn’t sent Michael home. “Why did you drug me and leave me in that room with Adam?”

  “He took you to the political rally. He bought your painting. You looked happy and I knew he’d won you over.”

  Carolyn ran a hand through her hair. “You’re crazy.”

  “Maybe I am, but all my life I’ve hated my father. I didn’t know who he was then, but I do now and I wanted to make him pay. And I hated you. My mother told me about you once and I did a little digging. It wasn’t hard to follow the trail of an abandoned baby.”

  “You weren’t at the dinner. How could you have drugged me?”