A Room with a Brew

by Joyce Tremel

Candy and Tommy exchanged glances before he answered. “He’s gone rogue. Which makes him very dangerous. Very dangerous indeed.”

  • • •

  Mitch Raines finally returned my call at ten that night. “Got your message,” he said. “Sorry it took so long to get back to you. What’s up?”

  “There was a little incident at my apartment last night that I think is connected to Doodle’s murder.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  I told him everything that I’d told Vince early that morning, plus much of what I’d jotted down in the notebook on my desk. When I’d finished, the detective was quiet for so long that I thought the call had dropped. “Mitch? Are you still there?”

  “I’m here. I’m just figuring out what to say.”

  What was there to figure out? “Just tell me you’re going to look into all this.”

  “Max, I know you’re trying to help and I appreciate that.”

  I knew what was coming next. I could tell by his tone of voice.

  “But you’re seeing something that’s just not there. There is no evidence that Walter Dowdy’s death was any more than a break-in gone wrong.”

  “What about his brother-in-law? Don’t you find it suspicious that both of them died during a break-in?”

  Mitch sighed. “Maybe a little, but it doesn’t mean they’re connected.” He paused. “Look. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll see if I can find the report from when Roy Williams died. If there’s anything there, I’ll look into it.”

  “What about the incident at my place this morning?”

  “I just pulled up the report. The officer entered it as criminal mischief/vandalism.”

  “Vandalism?” I slapped my hand down on my desk. I felt tears forming in my eyes. When I got angry enough, I cried and I hated it. I took a deep breath and blinked. “It wasn’t just vandalism. It was a threat. Someone wants me to back off, and it’s got to be someone on that list I gave you. One of them killed Doodle. I’m sure of it.”

  I had been positive that Mitch would take what I told him seriously. It was a strange turn of events that Vince believed me and Mitch didn’t. I’d have put my money on it being the other way around.

  “I don’t want to be the bad guy here,” Mitch said. “Maybe it will turn out that you’re right and I’m wrong. But as of now, there’s no evidence that any of the people you mentioned committed murder. If I were you, I’d forget about it. If something changes, I’ll let you know.”

  I sat at my desk for a long time after we disconnected. I felt so let down. I had hoped to turn the investigation over to the police like Vince had suggested. The weight that had lifted earlier now sat on my shoulders heavier than ever. It was up to me to figure out which of the people on my list had killed Doodle. And I was determined to do just that.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  I woke at my usual time on Thursday morning—or maybe I should say Hops woke me at her usual time. I fed and played with her for a bit then headed to the brew house. Tomorrow night was the beginning of our Oktoberfest weekend, and I wanted to make sure all was in order. I had plenty of Oktoberfest beer, Jake had the food under control, and Nicole and my mom were coming in on Friday morning to help me and the rest of the staff decorate. I was happy to see we hadn’t missed anything.

  After making the rounds in the brewery and checking the gauges on the fermenters, I went next door to Cupcakes N’at. I needed to tell Candy about my conversation with Mitch last night and tell her about an idea I’d come up with on my way to work. Besides that, I was in dire need of a chocolate muffin. Candy and Mary Louise were both behind the counter waiting on the only two customers in the bakery.

  We exchanged greetings, and since I hadn’t seen Mary Louise for a few days, I asked her how she was.

  She handed her customer the change from his purchase then gave me a smile. “Good as gold. What can I get for you?”

  I pointed to the lone chocolate muffin in the case.

  “These were very popular today,” Mary Louise said.

  Candy finished with her customer. “We’re going to have to start baking more of them.”

  I paid for my purchase and asked Candy if she had a minute.

  “Let’s go for coffee.” She turned to Mary Louise. “Can I get you anything?” She declined and Candy and I crossed the street to Jump, Jive & Java.

  Kristie’s part-time barista was working the counter, and Kristie was arranging a display of coffee beans in clear cellophane bags tied with colorful ribbons. “What do you think?” she said. “I’m trying something new. People keep asking if they can buy beans to take home and I finally took the hint.”

  “It’s a great idea. I like it,” I said.

  “I do, too,” Candy said. “I’ll take two bags.”

  “Woo-hoo! My first sale.” Kristie handed them to Candy. Once we’d ordered and paid, Kristie joined us at our usual table.

  “Did the detective ever call you back?” Candy asked.

  I nodded. “He wasn’t impressed with what I’d told him. He’s not going to do anything.”

  “You’re not talking about Vincent, are you?” Kristie asked.

  “Mitch Raines,” I said.

  Candy smiled. “We’d never talk about your cute little Vince unless we’re talking about his cute little—”

  “Candy!” Kristie and I said in unison.

  “What? I was going to say dimple,” she said. “Although come to think of it, he does have a cute little behind.”

  We all laughed.

  “You’re incorrigible,” I said. “Can we get back on track here?”

  “Spoilsport.” Candy waved a hand in the air. “Go on.”

  “I was pretty upset last night when he told me he wasn’t going to change his mind and I should just forget about the whole thing. I felt like he was telling me to be a good little girl and not to bother him anymore. I did some thinking after we hung up and I’m not going to forget about it. I’d hoped he would do the right thing then I could leave it up to him, but I can’t do that. If he’s not going to look for Doodle’s murderer, then I am.”

  Candy squeezed my arm. “You mean we are. I’m as much involved in this as you are.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” I leaned my forearms on the table. “I have a plan.”

  We spent the next fifteen minutes discussing the idea I’d come up with only that morning, then we split up to make some phone calls and put the plan into action.

  • • •

  The first person I’d called that morning had been Philip Rittenhouse, and when I explained what I wanted to do, he was willing to help us out. After that, I made the other calls and everything fell into place.

  I watched the clock all day, willing time to move faster. Of course it didn’t. As a matter of fact, it seemed to move slower. When five o’clock finally rolled around, Jake and I left the pub in Nicole’s hands. I went home to feed Hops and change clothes. The gallery event tonight wasn’t as formal as the opening and the unveiling of the Vermeer, so I chose a plain black shift dress and black low-heeled pumps. Grandma O’Hara’s pearl necklace and earrings were a nice finishing touch.

  Jake picked me up at six thirty so we’d be at the gallery by seven, before anyone else arrived. I nervously tapped my fingers on the armrest as Jake maneuvered through traffic on Baum Boulevard.

  “Stop worrying,” he said. “It’s a good idea.”

  “But what if I’m wrong? I’m going to look like an idiot, and Doodle’s murderer will still be out there somewhere.”

  He reached over and squeezed my knee. “I don’t think you’re wrong, but I am surprised Philip went along with it.”

  “I’m not. I explained to him that Doodle’s paintings were very good. And he doesn’t actually have to buy any of them. All he has to do is look at them.”

  By this
time we’d arrived at the garage where we had parked the week before. Jake and I walked the short distance to the Gallery on Ellsworth. Philip greeted us at the door.

  “Thanks for helping us out, Philip,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome.” He smiled. “I feel like I’m a character in an Agatha Christie novel. This will be fun.”

  I wasn’t sure about the fun part. Nerve-wracking was more like it.

  “I checked out the artist’s website after you called me. I was impressed. Both his original works and his copies were very good. I tried to get into the Commissioned Works section, but it asked for a password. You don’t happen to have it, do you?”

  I’d forgotten all about that page on the website. I’d meant to ask Paisley about it. “No, I don’t, but we can get it later.”

  “I have a few things to do,” Philip said, “but make yourselves at home.” He disappeared down a hallway, leaving Jake and me alone in the gallery.

  “What did he mean by copies?” Jake asked.

  “I don’t know. I was wondering the same thing. Maybe he makes more than one of certain paintings.” A wisp of a thought floated through my mind, but it was gone before I could grasp it.

  Candy and Tommy arrived just then. Tommy looked dapper as usual in his black pinstripe suit and a blue tie that matched his eyes. He’d traded his umbrella for a shiny black lacquer cane with a brass knob on the top. Candy sparkled. Literally. Her outfit sported more sequins than a Rockette. She wore a black calf-length dress with a long gold-sequined jacket. Her shoes matched the jacket and so did the gold beret on her head.

  “That’s a lot of sparkle,” I whispered to Jake as we went toward them.

  “I know. I should have brought my sunglasses.”

  Tommy took my hand and kissed the back of it. “You look lovely, my dear.”

  “Thank you.” I gave Candy a hug. “New outfit?”

  She twirled around. “This should get Josef’s attention, don’t you think?”

  It would get everyone’s attention. “Definitely,” I said.

  A few other invited guests arrived. Marcus stopped to say hello, then went to talk to a friend who had just come in. So far there was no sign of Bruce, Manny, Rhonda, Paisley, or most importantly, Felix. When I’d called Bruce that morning and told him I knew a gallery owner interested in seeing Doodle’s artwork, I told him to ask Manny and Felix to come, too. I made up a story that I wanted to talk to them all together about the party this weekend, and it would save time to do it tonight. He seemed to buy it, but now I wasn’t so sure. What if they didn’t show up? I didn’t have an alternate plan.

  They still hadn’t arrived when Victoria made her grand entrance with two curators from the art museum. The way she fawned over them was downright nauseating. She hadn’t acknowledged our presence at all even when Philip nodded his head in our direction. As far as she was concerned, it appeared we didn’t exist. I was perfectly fine with that.

  Philip had the Vermeer roped off to keep anyone who didn’t know better from touching it, and he opened one end to give the museum people a closer look. One of them shook Philip’s hand and I could tell he was congratulating him on his find. Victoria didn’t seem to like that much and somehow directed the conversation back to her.

  The crowd was much smaller than it had been at the opening last Friday—besides us, there were only a handful of people. Jake and I wandered around a bit, then went to stand with Candy and Tommy. We chatted for a few minutes then Jake nudged me. Felix Holt was coming through the door. When he spotted us, he went to the other side of the room, closer to the Vermeer.

  Just as I was about to give up on the others, Bruce and Rhonda arrived, followed by Manny Levin. “Show time,” I said. The plan was for me to greet and introduce them to Philip while Jake went to keep an eye on Felix. Candy and Tommy were posted by the door in case he tried to make a run for it. I pasted a smile on my face and greeted them.

  “I’m glad you could make it,” I said. “Philip is really excited to hear about the artwork.”

  “Thank you for arranging it,” Rhonda said. She was elegantly dressed as usual in a black crepe pantsuit. Her gaze circled the room. “Walter would be very pleased.”

  “Felix arrived just before you did,” I said. “Is Paisley on her way?”

  Bruce shook his head. “She was having car trouble and said she couldn’t make it.”

  “That’s too bad.” It might be a good thing. I wasn’t sure Paisley was a good fit for this crowd.

  “While you do your artsy thing, I’m gonna go find Felix,” Manny said.

  I didn’t like the idea. I wanted Felix to move toward us so he could hear the conversation, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I asked Bruce and Rhonda to follow me and I’d introduce them to the gallery owner. Philip saw us coming toward him and excused himself from the group standing in front of the Vermeer. Just as I had wanted, we were near enough to Felix that he would hear what was going on.

  Philip shook hands with Bruce and Rhonda, and we exchanged small talk for a minute. I noticed Felix watching us closely while he mostly ignored Manny’s attempts at engaging him in conversation.

  Philip finally got down to business. “Rhonda, Max tells me you’d like to sell some of your late brother’s paintings. I would love to take a look at them. I was impressed by the ones I saw on his website. When can I see them?”

  Rhonda gave him a small smile. “I’ve enlisted Bruce to handle the sale of any paintings, if that’s all right with you.”

  “Certainly,” Philip said.

  “I brought a few of the smaller ones with me,” Bruce said. “I have them in the car.”

  “Perfect. If I like them, you can bring the others by in the morning and we’ll talk business.”

  Victoria called to Philip, and he sighed. He handed Bruce a business card. “Bring in what you have, and take them back to my office.” He pointed down a hallway. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  As soon as Philip was out of earshot, I went to part two of the plan to draw Felix out before Bruce disappeared and I didn’t have a chance later. I said to Bruce, “Before I forget to tell you, I figured out why Doodle wanted to meet with me.”

  I watched Felix out of the corner of my eye, and if he was worried I knew anything, he didn’t show it. His face showed no reaction at all.

  But Bruce’s did. A flash of surprise showed on his face before he said, “That’s great. You can tell me all about it later.” He turned to Rhonda. “I’m going out to get the paintings. I’ll be right back.”

  Felix watched him the whole time, but didn’t follow.

  Rhonda and I made awkward conversation for what seemed like forever until Bruce returned carrying three bundles covered in brown paper. He moved past us and down the hall and Philip followed him back to the office.

  Rhonda suddenly gasped. “Oh no.” I turned in time to see Paisley shove one of the museum visitors away from the Vermeer. So much for having car trouble.

  “I thought Paisley couldn’t come,” I said.

  Rhonda didn’t respond. Her face had paled as she stared at her sister.

  Paisley stepped closer to the Vermeer then spun around to face the crowd. “Someone had better tell me what you’re doing with my brother’s painting.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Victoria stepped forward. “I don’t know who you are, or who your brother is, but that painting belongs to me.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  They sounded like children arguing over a toy.

  Rhonda rushed over to her sister and put an arm around her shoulders. “Paisley, honey. I think you’re confused.” Rhonda started to lead her away from the painting, but Paisley would have none of it.

  Paisley shook off her sister’s arm. “Don’t patronize me. I�
�m not a child.”

  “Of course you’re not,” Rhonda said. She took Paisley’s hand. “Why don’t we go talk about this?”

  So much for my plan. I had to do something. I hurried over to them. “Can I help?”

  “Yes,” Paisley said. “You can find out why my brother’s painting is here.”

  Victoria put her hands on her hips. “For the last time, it’s my painting. I own it.”

  “If you own it, then where’s my money?” Paisley asked. “Walter promised to take care of me.”

  Something clicked in my brain. Philip mentioning copies. An anonymous seller. Homemade canvases. The powdered paints and linseed oil. Varnish. The locked page on the website. Doodle wasn’t only an excellent artist, he was an art forger. But how was Felix involved? Were they in it together? Felix had contacts all over the world. It made sense.

  But then another thought came to me. Maybe Felix wasn’t involved at all. I’d been looking at the wrong person. Bruce was the one who handled the sales. He had removed the artwork from Doodle’s house so no one could see it before he was able to unload it to unsuspecting buyers. Bruce probably sold just enough of Doodle’s legitimate paintings to keep suspicion off them. What about Rhonda? Was she involved as well?

  Victoria said, “I paid good money for that, and I’m taking it back to New York with me tomorrow.” She glared at Rhonda. “If you’re the sister of this lunatic, maybe you should look into getting her some help.”

  “I plan on doing just that,” Rhonda said.

  Paisley began crying. “I’m not crazy. Why doesn’t anyone believe me?”

  I hadn’t noticed Candy coming over until she said, “I believe you, dear.” She put an arm around Paisley. “Remember me?”

  Paisley looked up through her tears. “We had breakfast together. You were nice.”

  Rhonda and Candy exchanged a look, and Candy led Paisley away and sat her down in a chair on the other side of the room. I watched them for a moment—until Rhonda looped her arm through mine and I felt something hard press into my side.