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Beyond Secrets, The Art of Murder: A Madison Hart Mystery (Madison Hart Mysteries Book 1)

Page 3

by DB Jones


  “Well, if your other work is like this one, you should have a showing of your own. I like your work.”

  “Thank you, but I still have a lot to learn, and I don’t think I’m that good.”

  Madison stepped up closer to the painting. “I don’t know a lot about art, but I like what I like, and your work is the kind I would purchase. Who did you take your classes with?”

  “Tyler Kincaid. He’s the best, but it’s hard to get into his classes. He’s not doing many anymore because he has such a large following buying his works as fast as he can paint them. Of course, most of the followers are women,” she said with a snicker.

  Madison grinned. “He must be good.”

  “He is, and not bad to look at either. He has an exhibit coming up in two weeks and is bringing in his new collection. You should come by and see him, I mean his works.”

  “I just might. Will you be there?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it. My name is Aspen, what’s yours?”.

  “Madison.”

  “Nice to meet you, Madison. See you then. I’ll be here both days during his showing. I also volunteer here at the Center.”

  “Nice meeting you, too, Aspen.”

  Madison continued around the Art Center reliving some of her childhood memories. She wandered back through the gallery and stopped again at Mr. Kincaid’s paintings. She found them more interesting this time or was it the thought of a good-looking man painting them? She was curious why he limited his subjects and decided she would ask him as soon as they met.

  Madison looked down at her watch. Her meeting with Jim was in twenty minutes, and since she hadn’t been in downtown Orlando for so long, she wasn’t sure of how the traffic would be. She called Jim to tell him she was on her way, just in case. “Hi Jim, I’m on my way. I wanted to stop by the Maitland Art Center and see if I could pick up on anything. I’ll be there shortly.”

  “No problem. I’ll be here whenever you get here. I’ve cleared my calendar for the afternoon, so take your time.”

  Madison was amazed at how quickly central Florida had blossomed into a real metropolitan city. High-rise buildings and upper-class complexes were going up as fast as old buildings could be torn down. The young career-minded couples were no longer looking for that house in a good neighborhood; they were moving into upscale apartments above shopping complexes and dining areas that were within walking distance. The once quaint small family businesses had disappeared and now shadowed by rows of corporate buildings that loomed over the streets. Even in her hometown of Maitland, some of these complexes were going up along the main drive on Highway 17-92 that ran through the center of town. It is going to take some getting used to, coming back here. It’s not the same place where I grew up, but it still has its charm.

  She finally arrived at the Orlando Sentinel. It too had changed a lot. The receptionist escorted her to Jim Tucker’s floor and then to his office.

  Jim stood up to greet her. “Thank you for coming, Madison.”

  “I’m eager to get started on this investigation. I read over the material you gave me, and I agree that something doesn’t feel right. I can’t put my finger on it yet but I plan to move backward and start with the most recent missing woman.”

  “I see we are already on the same track. I was thinking the same thing. I know Winter is still very weak and most likely hasn’t told you much about how I work. I’d appreciate if we kept this investigation in the family, so to speak.”

  Madison nodded.“I understand.”

  “If there is anything you need, call me anytime. I know this assignment is out of the ordinary, but I just have a strange feeling, and that’s why I want you to explore all possible avenues. Maybe it’s nothing, but somehow I don’t think so.” Jim sat back in his chair.

  “I agree, Jim. I’ll dig as far as I can and let you know what I find out.”

  “You not only look a lot like Winter, but you seem to have that same spunk and tenacity to get to the bottom of a story. I appreciate that. Good luck.”

  “Thank you for the confidence.” Madison reached across the table and shook his hand, then turned and left.

  Madison’s work with the FBI had trained her for details, but first, she wanted to set up a central location where she could work. She called Jessie, knowing her family had a few vacant buildings in Maitland. She didn’t need much room since it wasn’t going to be for the public. “Hello,” Jessie answered.

  “Hi Jess, it’s Maddy. I think you’d better put my ID on your phone since I’m going to be here for awhile.”

  “That’s wonderful. I’m so excited about your being back, and I know Winter is, too. What are you up to this morning?”

  “I was just driving past that block on Horatio and noticed you have some empty shops in there. Would you consider renting me one of the small ones in the back?”

  “Are you sure you want to rent one of those? They’re pretty small for an office if that’s what you’re thinking about.”

  “That small one in the back looks perfect for now. I’m not looking for an office yet, only a place to set up a central command for this investigation. Does it have a bathroom, running water, and electric? If it does, that’s all I’ll need for now.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure. I can show it to you now if you’re free.”

  “The sooner, the better. I need to get going on this.”

  “How soon can you meet me there?”

  “I’m just leaving Jim’s office now and can be back in Maitland in twenty minutes. Will that work for you?”

  “I’m on my way.”

  Jessie was waiting in front of the row of old shops behind the old vacant bank. She didn’t have to wait long. Madison pulled up next to her car, and then they walked toward the buildings. “Which one are you interested in?” Jessie asked.

  “I think I like the one in the middle. I looked in the window and noticed it had the least amount of boxes. What are storing in these shops, since no one is renting them?”

  Jessie shrugged her shoulders. “I hate to say it, but our family uses them as storage units. Fortunately, the one you’re looking at hasn’t been used much. I’m trying to get everyone to start cleaning out their junk but haven’t gotten very far on that yet,”.

  “I just need to get this cleaned out as soon as possible. Do you know anyone who can come in immediately and thoroughly clean everything? You mentioned that it has a decent bathroom with a shower in the back. Do you think I could get a bed, too? I know I’ll be spending a lot of time here, so a place to shower and sleep would be great. I know I could stay with Winter, but the drive every day might be a problem if I need to be somewhere fast.”

  “I sure do. I’ll give them a call. I’ll bet they can be here today or at least by morning, and have it ready for you to move into by tomorrow afternoon.You can stay in my guest room, and that would be just as easy.”

  “Thank you, Jess, but this place will be fine for now and renting this is going to be a big help. Now, all I need to do is run over to Staples and buy one of those giant dry erase boards to start my project.”

  “Sounds like you’re ready to jump into this. If there is anything I can do to help, please call me. I can be here in five minutes. Also, don’t forget I only live down the street, so don’t be a stranger.” Jessie hugged Madison.

  Madison smiled. “I won’t.”

  Jessie handed Madison a set of keys to the shop and then left. Madison opened the door to what would soon be her headquarters, at least for awhile.

  Chapter 3

  Madison set up her makeshift office and put a screen up in the back for her temporary bedroom. She was ready to tackle the so-called plot line for the investigation. She taped the pictures of the missing women onto her board. The women had no similar traits and looked nothing alike. “I wonder why Jim chose these women since they don’t even look similar. Winter did tell me that Jim had a sixth sense about this sort of thing, so, for now, I’ll follow his lead.” The only thing they had in comm
on was that they were all young and attractive, and, of course, were missing.

  After Madison had organized everything, she drove over to the Maitland Police Department. She planned to use her clout as an FBI agent, hoping they would be more open to divulging information. However, she had to be careful not to imply that she was on a case for the FBI. At this point, it was only a missing person investigation and would not warrant FBI involvement.

  As she entered the police station, she passed the wall of photos of past chiefs of police, and it took her back to her childhood. She remembered a time in her youth when she took her father’s car out for a spin, while her mom and dad were at a neighbor’s party. She got caught by one of the officers. The town was much smaller back then, and everyone knew each other. It didn’t help that her father was on the city council either. She was busted and taken home, but that wasn’t the worse part. The officer had called her dad at the party and told him what happened, and that’s when all hell broke loose. It was bad enough they called Mr. Hart at the party about his daughter breaking the law, but then he had to face the ridicule from everyone at the city council meetings. I think Dad put me on restriction for a very long time. No car privileges, no phone and no parties for a month. I remember thinking, at the time, that a month was a lifetime. Now I can hardly get everything I need to do done in a month. Never enough time. Ah, the times of our youth.

  “Excuse me, Miss, can I help you?” Madison nearly tripped over herself getting up to the counter.

  “Actually yes. I was hoping you could point me in the right direction. I’m Madison Hart. I’m with the FBI’s Criminal Investigation Division and was wondering if I could speak to someone about a missing person’s case.”

  “Of course. Could you wait here for a moment?”

  Madison stood at the counter looking at the photos again. Within moments, a tall dark-haired, good-looking man came out from an office in the back. “I’m Detective Josh Logan. How can we help the FBI?”

  “My name is Madison Hart.” She showed him her ID. “Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”

  “Yes.” Detective Logan motioned her toward a conference room in the back.

  “What case is the FBI looking into?”

  “I’m working on a missing person’s case. However, at this point, the FBI is not officially involved.”

  Detective Logan nodded his head. “I understand. Which case are you interested in?”

  “Margaret Hill. She disappeared on her way to a gallery showing about three weeks ago. What can you tell me?”

  Detective Logan unbuttoned his jacket and got up from his chair. “Let me get you the file on what we have so far. I’ll be right back. Can I get you some coffee or water?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Detective Logan swaggered out of the room like he owned the place. He was nice enough but seemed a little cocky. It didn’t matter to Madison how he acted as long as he gave her the information she needed.

  He returned shortly with a file and a mug filled with black coffee. He set the coffee down and then pulled his chair up across the table from her. He opened the file and started thumbing through it as if he was going to decide what she could see.

  “Detective Logan, may I look at the file? Time is of the essence. I need to see what you have so that I can proceed with my investigation.”

  “Of course.” He closed the file and slid it across the table. Madison quickly opened it and started reading through what their department had on the case so far. She was pleasantly surprised they had quite a bit of information, which would save her a lot of legwork.

  “Can you make me a copy of this entire report?”

  “Sure.” He opened the door and hollered down the hall, “Miss Stephens.”

  Within seconds, a young lady entered the room, “Miss Stephens, would you please make Agent Hart copies of this file?” “Of course, Sir.” She turned and scurried down the hall.

  “How else can we help you, Agent Hart?”

  “As soon as I know, you’ll know.” She didn’t want to give away too much and didn’t want the detective to pursue any more questions. She was eager to get the information and head back to her office and start compiling what she had so that she could move to the next step.

  Madison thanked Detective Logan, picked up her copies and headed toward the door. “Agent Hart, where can I reach you if something else comes up with the case?”

  “I have an office in the old White building.”

  “Are you going to be there the entire time?”

  She stopped and turned around to see him standing there with one hand on his hip with his jacket opened and leaned against the table. “Well, no.”

  “Do you have a number where I can reach you, or leave a message in case I need to contact you?”

  “I’m sorry, of course.” She handed him her card with FBI written across the top with her cell number.

  “Thank you, Agent Hart.” Madison started down the hallway. She nodded to the woman behind the desk and left.

  Detective Logan walked up to the front and watched as she drove off. The woman behind the desk smiled. “She sure is a looker, isn’t she?”

  “She may be a looker, but she has an attitude about her. I guess she thinks we can’t handle things around here.”

  The woman snickered. “That makes two of you.”

  “What’s that suppose to mean?”

  “I’m just saying.” She turned back to her work. Josh turned back toward the window to see if he could see which direction she headed, but Madison had already gone.

  Once back in her temporary office, Madison spread the files out on the table to organize her thoughts. She wanted to formulate a profile of the missing women, hoping she could find a common link. She had set up the dry-erase board in her make-shift office and placed the pictures of the missing women across the top of the board. Then she began to jot down the data she had under each photo. She thumbed through the information Detective Logan gave her and compiled that information under Ms. Hill’s photo. “I guess I was a bit abrupt with Logan, but at least I have a name now.”

  Madison wrote the name Margaret Hill across the top of her photo. She felt the more she knew about Margaret Hill, the better chance she’d have of connecting the dots to the others. After lunch, she’d headed toward Winter Park to talk to some of Margaret’s friends. Madison hoped they could tell her more about Margaret’s habits and who Ms. Hill was planning to see, the night she disappeared. The files from Logan were brief but detailed, and that gave Madison a place to start.

  The only thing Madison knew so far about Margaret was that she worked as a waitress at a local restaurant on Park Avenue, in Winter Park. Ms. Hill had hoped to be able to return to school and finish her degree in Psychology. Working on the Avenue, she’d make better tips, but still, she was struggling. She came from a low-income family and moved to the Central Florida area from the west coast near Tampa so she could attend Central Florida University.

  Madison drove into Winter Park and parked across the road from the 310 South Restaurant. It was a casual place with outside seating overlooking the park across Park Avenue. Madison watched for awhile. The place remained busy, but the lunch crowd had slowed down, so she approached a few of the young waitresses. “Hi, my name is Agent Hart, I work for the FBI. May I ask you a few questions?” The young girl began to tremble at the site of Madison’s badge.

  “Sure,” she replied.

  Madison showed the girl the picture of Margaret Hill, “Do you know this woman

  “Oh yes, that’s Margaret. She’s missing.”

  “Yes, I know. Did you know Ms. Hill well?”

  “No, but Sandy did.” She pointed to a young woman clearing off tables in the back of the restaurant.

  “Thank you.”

  The girl escorted Madison to the back, “Sandy, this lady is from the FBI and wants to know about Margaret.” Madison thanked her and stood until she got the hint that it was going to be a private conversation
with Sandy. “Oh, I’ve got work to do.” the girl said as she hurried off.

  Madison stepped up closer to the young lady. “Have you got a minute, Sandy?”

  “Not really, we’re busy right now. I’ll be off in about a half hour. I can meet you then. Is that okay?”.

  “Great. I’ll be waiting for you across the street in the park.” As Madison was about to leave, the hostess brought in another group of people and escorted them to Sandy’s table.

  After Sandy had cleaned up her station, she walked across the street and joined Madison on one of the park benches overlooking the rose garden. She was a small young lady and a bit shy. “I’m sorry it took so long. My boss is firm about us making sure the next girl doesn’t have to waste time setting up, so she can immediately start serving. I know some of the other servers think I spend too much time doing it right, but I try to be a team player. What did you want to ask me about Margaret?”

  Madison leaned back on the bench.“What can you tell me about the day Margaret disappeared? Was she nervous or excited about where she was going? Was she going to meet someone specific?”

  “Well, let me think for a moment. We were working together that afternoon, and Margaret asked to go home early. She told the boss she wasn’t feeling well, but she told me she wanted to take a rest before her big night.”

  “What big night?”

  “Margaret wouldn’t tell me too much, only that she was involved in a project, and that night was the big reveal. She was so excited, not only for the project but she believed her relationship was about to go one step further.”

  “Was she seeing someone?”

  “I think she was. She wouldn’t tell me much about him, except that he was an important person, and they had a special bond. She told me that night was going to be very special for her, and she wanted to look her best.”

  “I heard she planned to attend the showing at the Maitland Art Center that night? Did that have something to do with it?”

  “I believe it did. Margaret mentioned to me that she had been spending a lot of time there lately. She loved being around all the creative people. I think she even told me that she planned to take some art lessons there, but I can’t remember. I’ve been so upset about her being missing.” Sandy’s eyes began to well up with tears. “You don’t think something has happened to her, do you?”

 

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