A Deadly Edition

by Victoria Gilbert

  “Exactly. Richard’s taught me to waltz, at least to a somewhat respectable level, so he thinks our first dance is going to be a waltz. At least, that’s all we’ve ever discussed. But I thought it would be fun to surprise him with another style. A more difficult dance, like a tango or something.” I drew imaginary circles on the hardwood floor with the toe of my sandal. “I mean, I don’t expect to be brilliant at it in such a short time, but I’d like to be able to at least execute the basic steps.”

  Karla examined me for a moment. “Ballroom isn’t my specialty, but I suppose I could teach you the basics.” She smoothed her chin-length cap of sienna-brown hair with her free hand. “Good enough for social dancing, anyway. It’s really all Richard knows in that style, to be honest, so it’s not such a leap.”

  “Yeah, it’s not like I’m going to compete with either of you in a contemporary routine. You’d wipe the floor with me. But I thought maybe a ballroom dance would work. Not competition level or anything. Just simple steps for me. Richard can add the flourish.”

  “It would be fun,” Karla said, taking another sip of water as she studied me. “But I warn you—I can be a demanding teacher.”

  I grimaced. “And I can be a klutz. So we both have our work cut out for us.”

  “Rich would be pleased, though.” Karla drummed her fingers against the tumbler. “I’d love to see his face when the band breaks into a tango or salsa or something for the first dance.”

  “I’d like to see that too. The thing is, he’s always teasing me, and I thought maybe I could finally spring a surprise on him in return.” I cast Karla a smile. “Anyway, I’d just like to try. Take a few classes with you—privately, of course—and see how it goes. If I turn out to be a hopeless case, you can always tell me to abandon the idea.”

  “No one is hopeless,” Karla said firmly. She placed her tumbler on one of the small tables set up to collect used glasses and dinnerware. “You just have to concentrate and practice. I can’t turn you into a ballroom champion in a few weeks, but I think I can teach you one dance.”

  “Thank you.” I reached out and clasped one of Karla’s hands. “I really am happy that you and Richard have grown close again, you know. It may seem weird to other people …”

  Karla gently squeezed my fingers. “Have you heard any talk? From people at Clarion, I mean. I hope no one is implying that there is anything between us besides friendship, but I know how catty some of our colleagues can be.”

  “Campus gossip can be the worst,” I said, releasing Karla’s hand. “It was the same when I was working at Clarion, but no, I haven’t heard anything. It’s just something Richard said, about looks he’s gotten when he’s brought you in as a guest artist.”

  “From Meredith Fox and her crowd? You know that’s just because Rich didn’t run back to her after she left her husband. As if.” Karla sniffed. “She’s the one who dumped him when they were engaged and ran off to marry someone else. If that marriage didn’t last, too bad for her. Of course,” she added, “Meredith leaving was the best thing that ever happened to Richard. Because then he was single when he met you.”

  “And I can’t hate Meredith for that reason alone. Her dumping Richard without a word killed any feelings he might’ve had for her. Too bad for her; good for me.” I offered Karla another smile. “So, if you’re really up to working with a very poor dancer, I’ll be in touch. We can set up some sessions at your studio, maybe?”

  “Sounds good,” Karla said.

  “Oh, and don’t forget—you’re supposed to accompany Sunny and Mom and me when we go for our final dress fittings. I’ll let you know the time. Since you couldn’t go with us when we chose my gown and Sunny’s dress, I thought it’d be an opportunity for you to pick out something for yourself. Unless you’ve already found a gown?”

  “I haven’t. But are you sure this shop will have anything that will fit me?” Karla swept her hand in front of her body. “Without alterations, everything’s usually too short or tight.”

  I nodded. “Which is why I made the owner promise to have their seamstress available to make any adjustments, or at least to mark your dress for any necessary tailoring. They also said they’d make sure it would be done in plenty of time for the wedding.”

  “Okay, I can work with that.” Karla glanced at her watch. “Heavens, is it that late? I’m afraid I have to dash.”

  “I hope there’s no emergency.”

  “No, it’s just one of my dance students. He’s playing in a piano recital, and I like to support all my students’ creative efforts. The thing is, when I promised to attend, I didn’t expect a conflict. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d be here that long, but it seems time has slipped away from me.” Karla cast me an apologetic smile. “Would you give Mr. Kendrick and everyone my thanks and good-byes? Tell Rich I’ll call him soon. And you”—she pointed a finger at me—“text me about setting up those lessons.”

  “I will,” I said, following her as she strode into the hall. I gave her a hug before she hurried out the front door.

  Wandering back into the living room, I noticed that several other people were missing, including Kurt and my brother.

  “Scott didn’t leave yet, I hope,” I said as I joined my parents.

  “No, Lydia and Hugh just took him off to introduce him to some other people,” Mom said. “Her friends Walt and Zelda. Then he headed outside, for a walk, he said.”

  “And I suppose Kurt’s mingling with guests in another room?” I breathed a sigh of relief. Even though I wasn’t sure why, I didn’t like the idea that Kurt had somehow cornered my brother in a private conversation. There was a crackle of tension between those two that made me uncomfortable. It might have something to do with Kurt’s business interests, I thought, remembering that the art dealer had some mysterious connections with government agencies like the FBI. And then again, maybe it’s what Kurt knows about Oscar Selvaggio, who seemed shocked to encounter Scott. If Selvaggio has been involved in any shady art transactions, it’s possible both Kurt and Scott have access to that information.

  “I’m not sure where our host is right this minute,” Mom replied. “I saw him chatting with that Selvaggio fellow right after you left the room, but both of them seem to have disappeared since.”

  “Chatting? Looked more like an argument to me.” Dad tapped his chin with one finger. “Probably fighting over that book they both want to buy. Although Kurt did hand the other guy a snifter of what looked like brandy, so they can’t be too much on the outs.”

  “Probably cognac. That is Kurt’s favorite,” I said, distracted by Richard’s appearing at my elbow with a glass of champagne.

  “Thought you might want another,” he said, tapping the rim of his own full glass against mine. “I know I do.”

  “Must be nice to be rich enough to hand this stuff out like water.” Dad lifted his own glass in a little salute. “Anyway, here’s to you, daughter and future son-in-law.”

  “Thanks,” I said, before taking a sip. Over the rim of my glass, I noticed Aunt Lydia and Hugh approaching, with Fiona and Jim Muir in tow. “Listen,” I said to Richard in a low voice. “Do you want to slip away for a minute? Take a stroll outside or something? Not sure I’m up to chatting with your parents at the moment.”

  “Good plan.” Richard winked at me. “Let’s deposit these glasses and take a walk around the grounds,” he said in a louder voice, taking my arm and sweeping me away from his approaching parents. We dropped our half-empty champagne glasses on one of the small tables set up in the hall before heading outside.

  “Dodged that bullet,” he said, as we followed the path that led around to the back of the house.

  “Leaving my parents, aunt, and poor Hugh as targets.” I shook my head. “I suppose that was wrong of us, but …”

  “You really don’t care?” Richard’s lips twitched.

  “I wouldn’t say that. But I think they have the fortitude to handle such situations.”

  Richard’s grip on my a
rm tightened. “Unlike us, cowards that we are.”

  “Smart cowards,” I said with a smile.

  Richard paused on the path that led into the trees surrounding Kurt’s manicured backyard. “To be honest, I really just wanted a moment alone with you.”

  “To do what, exactly?”

  “Kiss you properly, for one thing,” he said, pulling me behind the screen formed by a tall lilac bush before proceeding to do so.

  Some time passed before I was aware of anything besides the two of us, but at one point, as Richard lifted his lips from mine, I caught a glimpse of something moving through the trees to my right. There was a flash of purple amid the green undergrowth. I stepped back, pulling free of Richard’s arms. “Someone’s out there, walking through the woods.”

  “Probably a guest getting some air.” Richard turned to follow my gaze. “Wait, that’s Adele. What the heck is she doing, tramping through the woods?” He frowned. “She’s had some balance problems lately, and when I talked to her earlier, I noticed she was wearing pretty flimsy heels. She has no business hiking across uneven ground.”

  “That is odd. Kurt doesn’t clear his woods either. He says he likes to allow them to remain natural for the benefit of the wildlife. So trying to navigate that area in heels has to be rough.”

  “Good way to break a leg.” Richard rubbed his jaw with his clenched fist.

  “Speaking of Kurt, there he is, popping out of the woods on the other side of the yard.” I glanced up at Richard. “What’s going on here? Some strange game?”

  “A secret assignation?” Richard widened his gray eyes. “Kurt and Adele have known each other for a long time …”

  “True, but they’re old enough not to have to sneak into the woods for a rendezvous. Anyway, I’ve never gotten the impression that they were that close, and Adele could just as easily stay after the party if they wanted private time alone. Who would know, or care?”

  “No one, I suppose.” Richard’s gaze followed Adele as she crossed the yard and entered the house through the back door.

  Kurt, who’d paused at the edge of the yard until Adele went inside, waited a few additional minutes before following her. As he opened the back door, I was surprised to see my brother stroll around from the other side of the house. That’s right, he went out for a walk for some reason, I thought, reaching for Richard’s hand.

  “This is starting to remind me of one of those French farces—people coming and going from all directions.” Richard’s fingers curled around mine.

  Looking over the area as if to make sure no one was watching, Scott also used the back door to enter the house.

  “It is peculiar,” I said, “but I’m sure there’s some reasonable explanation.”

  A loud crash silenced Richard’s response.

  “Sounds like it came from that direction,” he said, dropping my hand to sprint down the path.

  I followed, running to match his longer strides. The path curved off to the right, ending at a wooden garden shed.

  Richard paused, grabbing the edge of the half-open door. “Hold on,” he said as I reached him. “We should be careful. It could be some sort of wild animal, and if we back it into a corner, it could turn violent.”

  “But it also could be hurt,” I said, pulling the door wider to peer inside the shed. “Can’t see much.”

  “There’s something on the floor.” Richard pointed toward a large, shadowy object sprawled across the center of the small room.

  I backed away. “Not a bear, I hope.”

  “It’s not moving. Maybe just some tarps that tipped off that top shelf.” Richard grabbed a rake that was propped next to the door.

  As he crept closer to the shadowy object, holding the rake like a weapon, I stepped in behind him and moved to the side to allow light to spill in through the door.

  It was a tarp—a cracked blue tarp dusted with mold. But it was draped over something else.

  Richard tentatively reached out and flipped up an edge of the thick plastic covering.

  I gasped as an expensive leather shoe was revealed.

  We both rushed forward to fling back the rest of the tarp. Then stood in silence, holding hands, as we stared down at the body of Oscar Selvaggio.

  Chapter Three

  Chief Deputy Brad Tucker offered a thin, gray wool blanket as Richard and I huddled on one of the wooden benches in Kurt’s back yard.

  “So we meet again, under way-too-deadly circumstances.” Brad, a tall, broad-shouldered man in his early forties, loomed over us, his sheriff’s department hat dangling from his right hand. “I’m beginning to think you two attract dead bodies like sugar draws ants.”

  “Not our intention,” I said, after stilling my chattering teeth. It was still pleasant outside, but the shock of stumbling over yet another lifeless body had given me the shakes.

  Richard draped the blanket over my shoulders. “Not the way we wanted to end this event, believe me.”

  I glanced over at the perimeter the sheriff’s department had established around the shed before looking up into Brad’s blue eyes. “Any idea what killed Mr. Selvaggio? We were thinking maybe a heart attack or a stroke, since there was no sign of blood.”

  “Too soon to tell. The coroner will have to do a more thorough examination before I can say anything conclusive.” Brad covered his short blond hair with his hat before pulling a small notebook and pen from the pocket of his uniform jacket. “Just to be clear, you really didn’t see anyone in the direct vicinity of the garden shed?”

  “As we told the other deputy, Selvaggio was alone,” Richard said. “We did see some people outside right before the time he must’ve collapsed, but they were either in the woods or the yard.”

  Brad peered at the notebook. “Right. That was Adele Tourneau, Kurt Kendrick, and”—he glanced down at me—“Scott Webber.”

  “But Scott entered the backyard from the other side of the house,” I said. “He was nowhere near the shed.”

  “Still outside, like the others.” Brad tapped the notebook with a ballpoint pen. “We are interviewing all three of them, along with others at the party.”

  “Of course.” I drew the edges of the blanket together, creating a cocoon-like wrap around my body. “It was probably natural causes, though. Don’t you think?”

  The lines bracketing Brad’s lips deepened. “I’m not going to speculate on that,” he said, pocketing the notebook and pen.

  “Are we done here?” Richard stood to face the chief deputy. He was a few inches shorter than Brad, but his perfect posture always leant him the air of a taller man. “Sorry, but I’d like to get Amy home as soon as possible. She’s pretty shaken.”

  “We’re finished, although we may need to call you into the station to clarify your statements.” Brad tugged his hat lower on his forehead. “You’d just met the victim, from what I understand?”

  “Barely spoke two words to him,” Richard said.

  I rose to my feet, still wearing the blanket like a cape. “Neither of us ever saw him before today. As I told the other deputy, it’s my understanding that Mr. Selvaggio showed up to talk with Mr. Kendrick about some rare book they both want to buy, and Kurt asked him to stay. I mean, it’s not like he was actually invited as a guest.” I lowered my lashes to shade my eyes. Although both Brad and his significant other, Alison Frye, were our friends, they hadn’t been invited either. Which probably said more about Kurt’s relationship with law enforcement than anything else.

  Brad cleared his throat. “And of course we’ll follow up on that. I am sorry this happened during your party,” he added in a gentler tone. “You do seem to have the worst luck with these sorts of things.”

  “Tell me about it.” Richard managed a wan smile. “But at least this time it doesn’t appear to be a murder.”

  “Not at first glance. But the investigation isn’t over yet. Now, if you’ve told us everything you can remember, I suppose you might as well head home. Just remember that you will be on call fo
r any further questions.”

  “Naturally,” I said, leaning into Richard.

  He threw his arm around my shoulders and drew me closer. “Always happy to help. But I doubt there’s anything more we can add to our original statements. It’s all pretty cut-and-dried.”

  Brad’s expression hardened again. “I hope so. Taylorsford doesn’t need another murder on the books.”

  I shivered under the blanket. “That’s for sure.”

  After Brad wished us a “better rest of the day” and strode off, Richard turned to me. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Should we try to find Kurt and thank him?”

  “I think he’s probably too involved with the authorities to talk to us.” Richard gave me a quick hug. “We’ll call him later. For now, let’s go home, or rather, to Lydia’s house. I’m sure your family will be anxiously waiting for you there.”

  “Yes, I saw them leave earlier, after briefly talking to one of the deputies. I think they were told they had to go, just to clear the scene.” I shrugged off the blanket and tossed it onto the bench, hoping Brad or one of his team would pick it up later.

  “Except for Scott,” Richard said, his gaze fixed on something over my shoulder. “I see Brad’s talking to him now.”

  “Poor thing. He comes for a visit and this happens.” I tapped Richard on the shoulder, drawing his eyes back to me. “Are we really bad luck or something? I’m beginning to wonder.”

  “Don’t be silly. We just have an unfortunate habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Richard’s eyes narrowed. “You aren’t really worried about Scott being mixed up in a suspicious death, are you?”

  “Of course not,” I said, tossing my head as if such an idea were completely out of the question.

  But although I knew very little about my brother’s career, I was aware that he’d been engaged in top-secret work for the government, among other things. There were many previous missions he wouldn’t discuss. Which made his involvement in something like a suspicious death all too possible.