The Bakers and Bulldogs Mysteries Collection: 20 Book Box Set

by Rosie Sams

  “...crying. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” the woman quickly answered, dabbing her eyes with a piece of tissue. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”

  “Oh, no, you have nothing to be sorry about. Is there someone I can call for you? Or, do you want to talk... to me?”

  The woman lifted dark eyes to Melody. She was quiet for a while as if trying to decide if she did want to talk. “I’m Claudia Conway,” she finally voiced. “Come on in.”

  Stepping inside, Melody closed the door. “Conway? As in the model?”

  Claudia nodded sadly.

  Wow, two celebrities in one night. Port Warren is on a roll.

  Mentally rolling her eyes at her own thoughts, Melody approached the model. She’d seen her grace the front of a few fashion magazines. “I’m Melody. It’s nice to meet you, Claudia. I have to say you’re even more stunning in person.” Holding her palms up, she added, “And that’s all the fangirling I’m going to do, I promise.”

  Claudia sniffed and giggled. “You’re funny. Thanks for the laugh.”

  Perching on the sofa but giving Claudia her space, Melody smiled. “So, what has you in here alone? The show is about to start.”

  Claudia fanned one hand toward the door. “I’ve already seen the show in private. I’m Byron’s girlfriend,” she explained.

  “Oh.” Byron had a girlfriend. The blushing female fans in the gallery would be disappointed. It also irked Melody that Byron had been flirting with her when his girlfriend was alone, crying her eyes out. It said a lot about the man, and nothing good. “Should I get him?”

  “Oh, no!” Claudia shook her head vigorously, and her diamond chandelier earrings jiggled. “He’d hate it if I interrupted his show.”

  “But, you’re…”

  “I’m fine. Really. He’s the reason why I’m in here crying, anyway.”

  Pursing her lips, Melody frowned. “You two had a fight?”

  “If you want to call it that.” Seemingly letting her guard down, Claudia turned to Melody, her obsidian-like eyes glistening with tears. “Byron is just so... difficult sometimes. You know the sensitive artist types?”

  She didn’t know the sensitive artist types, but she nodded anyway.

  Claudia shrugged. “We exchanged a few harsh words. Well, he threw out the harsh words, and my feelings were hurt. I’ll get over it. I’m accustomed to his behavior. If I’m honest, he gets a little impatient before his big shows. I think it’s due to anxiety.”

  Melody had to hold back a harrumph. “That’s absolutely no excuse to treat you or anyone poorly.” She just knew Byron’s charming persona was fake. Gazing at Claudia, she wondered why the woman settled for such treatment. She could get any man she wanted; Melody was sure. Plus, she was successful in her own right. She didn’t want to shove her nose into Claudia’s personal business, but she heard herself ask, “If he’s so awful to you, why are you still with him? Obviously, he doesn’t make you happy.”

  As if some switch had been flipped, the other woman shut down. Her eyes became shuttered, and she scowled. “Hey, Byron is a brilliant man and a gifted artist. So, he gets a little crabby before his shows. He lashes out when he’s stressed, and I got caught in the crossfire.” Shrugging slender, elegant shoulders, Claudia huffed. “It’s a small price to pay to bask in his brilliance. Besides, I’m his muse. You’ll see me in one of his paintings. I’m a fashion model, but I’ve been posing for Byron for a while now.”

  Eyebrows elevated, Melody nodded. “Right. I’m sorry for prying, and I’m most sorry if I offended you.” Taking a breath, she offered, “I’ll keep my opinions to myself if you still need someone to talk to about anything else.”

  Before Claudia could respond, a voice echoed in the hallway.

  “Melody, are you back here?” It was Kerry. “Where are you? The show is about to start.”

  “I’d better go.”

  “Sure.” Claudia nodded. “I’ll be out in a minute. Uh, Melody, can I count on you to keep this quiet?”

  “Of course, you can.”

  Melody exited the room and closed the door before Kerry could glimpse inside.

  “What were you doing in there?” Kerry asked.

  “I was resting my feet. These heels are killers.”

  “Tell me about it,” Kerry smirked, looking down at her own pumps. “Byron is about to reveal his work,” she squealed. “I’m so excited.”

  “Yeah,” Melody murmured as they made their way back to the main room. She found Alvin easily in the crowd because he towered over most of the guests. Both she and Alvin listened half-heartedly to Byron’s speech about the inspiration he found in Port Warren. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Claudia emerge. There were a few hushed whispers as several of the younger guests immediately recognize her.

  “And this is the moment you’ve all been waiting for ladies and gentlemen. If you’ll follow me.” Byron moved toward a sectioned off part of the gallery.

  Eli Kritchner eagerly guided everyone in the same direction.

  Byron stopped and waved both arms dramatically. “I present to you my latest masterpieces.”

  “All of that drama for a few paintings,” Alvin said under his breath.

  He seemed utterly bored, and it took everything Melody had not to giggle out loud. “I think they’re all beautiful.”

  The crowd agreed with her as a chorus of oohs and ahhs resounded. Melody moved closer. She was impressed with how well Byron had captured some of the most picturesque spots of the small town. Someone behind her voiced the same things.

  “He certainly captured Port Warren with perfection.”

  “And such exquisite technique,” someone else pointed out.

  “Yeah, I guess they’re nice,” Alvin muttered as he studied a few of the framed artworks.

  Melody had to give it to Byron. He was a jerk, sure, but he was a very talented jerk.

  As everyone praised the paintings, Sam pushed through the crowd and stumbled forward. He moved closer to the wall, lined with frames, and studied one for a while. Then, he moved to the next. Melody watched him, confused and concerned by the way he staggered. When he reached another painting, he roared, “Hey! These are my paintings!” Whipping around, he stormed toward Byron, who was speaking with an adoring fan. “Byron Elmsford, you’re a fraud. Those are my paintings!”

  Just about everyone in the room gasped and held their breaths.

  “Oh, no,” Melody groaned.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Sam stood before Byron, his finger pointing accusingly, his face flushed with fury.

  “Now, now, Mr. Uh… sir. Calm down,” Byron encouraged, holding up both palms.

  “The name is Sam Barnett! I left you my paintings the other day!”

  Byron’s face was slowly reddening as he backed away. “How about we take this to the back? We can talk about this in private. No need to upset the guests.”

  It was too late. The crowds had already descended into disorder. There was a wave of murmurs and people trying to get to Byron. Eli Kritchner jumped to place himself between a flustered Byron and the confused crowd.

  “Settle down, settle down. There’s a reasonable explanation,” Eli said, waving his hands up and down in some form of suppressing motion.

  “Are you a fraud, Byron?” someone shouted.

  “Yeah, did you steal Sam’s work?”

  Questions were being fired at Byron from every quarter, and the artist didn’t seem to know what to say. The chaos worsened when Sam launched himself across the room, his intent was plain for all to see. There were gasps, screams, and shouts. Blinding flashes from cameras went off in quick succession as photographers and reporters jumped to capture the messy scene.

  Vanessa, Sam’s date, looked horrified and tried to grab at Sam’s flailing arms. Mr. Kritchner tried futilely to help break up the tussle.

  It was Alvin who surged through the crowd and grabbed Sam, saving Byron from a blow. “Easy, Barnett. This isn�
��t you. Calm down and talk to me.”

  Melody watched, clutching her chest, as Sam stopped fighting. He sagged in Alvin’s hold, his breath coming in short gasps. “Sheriff, that man stole my work, I tell you!”

  Byron straightened his shirt and the ridiculous scarf that circled his neck. Scoffing, he glared at Sam. “I did no such thing.”

  Sam pointed to the wall. “Those are copies of the paintings I left at your hotel, Elmsford. Poor copies might I add. Your technique sucks!”

  “My technique sucks? Who’s the professional here?” Puffing out his chest, Byron admitted, “Your amateur work might have pointed me in the direction of a few landscapes in town, but the work is all mine, I assure you.”

  “Why, you…” Sam rushed toward Byron again, but luckily, Alvin’s reflexes were on point. He moved quickly, holding Sam back. “He stole my work. I swear!” Sam kept struggling to break free from Alvin’s grip. “That man is a—” Sam went down, landing right on his face.

  “Sam,” Melody gasped, moving forward to check on him.

  “Arrest that man!” Byron demanded. “He attacked me!”

  “All right, Elmsford, pipe down,” Alvin said. He effortlessly helped Sam to his feet and led him through the crowd. Many called to Sam, asking him if he was all right, and some wanted to know if he’d lost his mind.

  Melody and Vanessa followed, but before Melody walked through the exit, she spotted Claudia. The model was watching her boyfriend with a knowing glare as he tried to do damage control. Melody did a U-turn and hurried over to Claudia.

  “Claudia. Are you okay? This place is in upheaval… I just wanted to check on you.”

  The woman smiled. “I’m fine. It’s crazy, right?” She shook her head, arms folded, and continued to watch on without the slightest trace of shock.

  “Can you believe what just happened? Have you ever seen anything like this before?” Melody watched her closely because she suspected that what happened was nothing new to Claudia.

  With a small smile, Claudia lifted a shoulder. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” With that, she glided toward Byron and looped an arm through his.

  Melody glared at the couple before she marched to the exit. And, to think that she had felt sorry for Claudia not too long ago. Now, she was starting to think that Claudia and Byron deserved each other.

  “Not to worry, every one, one bad apple isn’t enough to turn me away from your charming little town,” Byron reassured the crowd. “Some people get jealous and want to believe that they are the star. Let’s put that entire debacle behind us and move on. Let’s enjoy a good night with good food and great art.”

  The commotion seemed to be dying down as everyone stopped murmuring amongst themselves. Some broke off and headed to the food table, while others continued to view the various paintings. Melody caught sight of her assistants as they hurried to her.

  “Melody, can you believe what just happened?” Kerry asked wide-eyed as she pointed over her shoulder. “There was almost a brawl in here for Pete’s sake.”

  “Do you think it’s true?” Leslie asked, clutching her chest. “There’s no way our Byron is a fraud. Sam must be drunk out of his mind.”

  “Our Byron, is it?” That annoyed Melody no end, it should have been our Sam. She sighed. “We don’t know what’s true or not yet. Look, you two deal with the desserts until I get back. You can manage without me, right?”

  “Of course, go ahead,” Kerry said.

  Melody joined Alvin, Sam, and Vanessa in the parking lot. Alvin was still trying to get Sam to calm down as he rambled on about not being a liar, while Vanessa had a comforting hand on his shoulder.

  “I think you had a bit too much to drink, Sam,” Alvin voiced.

  “No. No, I’m telling you that man used every piece of art I left with him.” Sam’s words slurred, and that didn’t make things any better for him.

  Melody couldn’t ever remember seeing him drunk, the man sold alcohol for a living, surely he knew his own limits.

  “I… I only had one glass of champagne,” Sam said, but the more he spoke, the drunker he sounded.

  What was going on?

  “It’s true,” Vanessa confirmed. “I’ve been at his side all night.”

  Sam, who was leaning on Alvin’s cruiser, shook his head and attempted to stand. He swayed and nearly toppled over. If not for Alvin clutching his arm, he would have hit the blacktop.

  “Oh, Sam, you need to lay down.” Melody rushed forward, concern for her friend written on her face.

  “She’s right. I’m taking you home,” Alvin declared. “You can collect your car at another time.”

  “But, how will Vanessa get home?” Sam slurred.

  “Don’t worry about me, Sam. I can catch a cab.”

  “Or you can ride along with Sam and Alvin.” Melody looked to Alvin, and he nodded.

  “Of course.”

  Shoving a hand through her coffee-colored pixie cut, Vanessa nodded. “Okay, I should make sure that Sam is okay once he gets home anyway. He isn’t looking so good.”

  After Alvin helped Sam into the back seat and Vanessa hopped in, he turned to Melody. “Another insane event in Port Warren.”

  “This town is getting a bit too exciting.” She laughed.

  Grinning, Alvin gave her a peck on the cheek. “I know you have to go back in and handle dessert. We’ll talk later.”

  “Okay.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  When Melody stepped back inside—surprisingly—there was an air of calm. It was as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As if the night hadn’t been interrupted by accusations of thievery or a near brawl. Guests had moved on from viewing Byron’s work, if they were indeed really his, and were in small groups chatting, eating and drinking. Byron was spotted with Claudia still hanging on his arm, among a group of locals. The man was basking in compliments.

  Snorting at the sight of the unaffected Byron, Melody didn’t bother to stop when Kerry and Leslie gave her inquiring glances. She merely shrugged, not wanting to discuss any further what happened with Sam, and kept walking. She intended to collect Smudge and head home.

  After thanking Eli Kritchner for the use of his office, she and Smudge hurried to the parking lot. Melody was confident that her assistants could manage for the remainder of the night. Just as she reached her car and placed her hand on the door handle, footsteps echoed behind her.

  “Melody, wait.”

  Gritting her teeth, she forced on a mask of courtesy and managed a smile as Byron approached.

  “Leaving so soon?” he asked, coming to a stop and shoving his hands into his pockets.

  “Well, my assistants have things covered so…”

  He rocked back on his heels. “I wanted to thank you for everything you did tonight, providing the desserts. I have to say, the town folks were spot on. You are indeed a genius in the kitchen. Everything was delicious.”

  “Thank you, Byron. I was happy to do it. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Melody didn’t want to prolong their conversation. She was still upset over what happened with Sam. Sam was her friend, so of course, she would support his claim until he was proven wrong. Plus, she had a gut feeling Byron had passed off Sam’s work as his own. She had warned Sam about trusting the famous artist, after all.

  “Melody, I hope you don’t think what that insane man was spouting earlier is true,” he said in a rush. “I’d hate to think that the people of Port Warren think me a fraud.”

  “I doubt you have to worry about that. I overheard you getting so many compliments. It’s as if nothing happened.”

  Byron’s lips twisted. “What about you, Melody? Do you think I stole someone’s work?”

  Absolutely. “I’m in no place to have an opinion without the full story, Mr. Elmsford,” she replied, trying to remain diplomatic. She decided to slip in a sly comment to gauge his response. “I suppose those compliments are well earned. I mean, you captured so many of the local landmarks so perfectly and i
n just a few days. You really are an artistic genius.”

  If Melody wasn’t looking at Byron as closely as she was, she would have missed the telltale nervous twitch of his right eye. “What can I say? That’s why I’m the best,” he drawled.

  “Right. That’s what puzzles me. You’re the best, yet, you leave Manhattan to come to this small town to put on a show. I assume you’d get more buzz in a bigger city.”

  Byron’s brows dipped, and his nostrils flared. Obviously, Melody had struck a nerve. Taking a step closer to her, he asked, “Are you by any chance accusing me of something, Melody?”

  Guilty conscience, Byron? “Why ever would you think that?”

  Byron’s posture must have alerted Smudge because the pup let out a threatening growl.

  Instantly, Byron stepped back. Glancing down at Smudge, he chuckled and bent to pet her. Smudge’s responding snarl had him pulling his hand away. Straightening, Byron continued his slow retreat, sending Smudge an annoyed glare. “It seems you don’t think much of your hometown, Melody. Port Warren is full of potential, and that’s why I’m here.”

  “Of course.” With narrowed eyes, she gave him a long look before announcing, “I’ll be on my way. I guess I’ll see you around before you return to Manhattan.” Melody slid into her car, and Smudge hopped in and curled up on the other seat. Melody clipped her into her harness.

  “Good girl, Smudge. There’s definitely something suspicious about that artist.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Melody groaned and rolled over in bed as the incessant ringing breached her slumbering bliss. Her alarm continued to shriek, and she blindly reached over to silence it. It was quiet once again, and she burrowed under the sheets for a few more minutes. Smudge, however, had different ideas.

  The dog came barreling through the door, sliding on the hardwood but righting herself to hop onto the bed. Clamping her mouth around the covers, she tugged until Melody moaned, “Smudge, stop it.”

  The pup hopped up and down excitedly, her head turning to the window and then back at Melody.