by Rosie Sams
“Okay, you go ahead.” Melody didn’t mention that she intended to pay Claudia a visit too. “Let’s go, Smudge.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Claudia pulled in a breath and jumped back after she opened her door. “Melody, what are you doing here?”
Eyeing the two suitcases at Claudia’s feet, Melody asked, “Leaving so soon?”
The woman shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. “I had only planned to stay here for a few days. How did you know which room to find me in?”
“Well, the receptionist was forthcoming with the information because she’s under the impression that I was sent by the sheriff.” Melody felt a twinge of guilt for the little fib. “The sheriff called to ensure that you didn’t check out.”
Dark eyes widening, Claudia gasped. “What?” Peering anxiously into the hall, she practically dragged Melody inside. “What are you talking about, Melody? The sheriff?”
Smudge waddled inside, and Melody closed the door. “Calm down, Claudia. The police just want to question you again.”
“I don’t see what for,” the woman huffed. “I told them everything I know, and I’m going to miss my flight.”
“Why not stay until Byron’s murderer is found?”
She threw her hands up. “I thought the crazy guy who attacked Byron last night did it, and I have to get home to start making plans for his funeral.”
“I wondered if you were in such a hurry… because you have something to hide.”
Claudia went silent and completely still. Both women stared at each other, Claudia’s eyes blazed with fury and Melody’s with challenge. Finally, the silence broke.
“Whatever you’re implying is completely false,” Claudia asserted. “I had nothing to do with Byron’s murder. I admit, contrary to what I told the police, I... I did see him this morning. But, I sought him out at the gallery to talk to him. We exchanged heated words, and I stormed off to get back here to pack. He was very much alive when I left him, I assure you.”
Though Melody was unconvinced, she sighed. “Do you remember what I told you last night, Claudia? About being able to talk to me? I meant every word. If there’s something you want to get off your chest…”
“How dare you?!” Claudia’s defenses were back up. “Did you come here to get a confession so your crazy friend will be let off the hook? I told you, I didn’t do it.” Jaws clenched and fists balled, she growled, “Get out of my way, Melody. I’m leaving.”
“You won’t be able to check out until the sheriff gets here.”
“Yeah? Watch me.” When Claudia charged forward, Smudge blocked her path and let out a warning growl.
Clutching her chest, Claudia stopped in her tracks in front of the tiny dog who was trying hard to look tough, but only managed to look really cute. “Goodness, she isn’t going to attack, is she? Call her off!”
“If this is what it takes to keep you here until the sheriff gets here, no can do,” Melody huffed.
In a move that shocked Melody, Claudia stomped one foot and then sank to her knees. Melody watched wide-eyed as the woman burst into tears. Seeing that the tears were genuine, Melody groaned. “Oh, no. Okay, Smudge, down girl.” Smudge’s posture relaxed, and she sat on her haunches and watched curiously as Melody went over to comfort the woman.
“Claudia, please don’t cry. I…”
“I’m innocent, Melody,” Claudia blurted. “I would never hurt someone I care about. Sure, I was furious with Byron, and we did argue. I was just tired of him making empty promises, and I confronted him about that.” She hung her head and muttered, “I do have a confession, though.”
Melody inched closer, waiting for Claudia to confess to murder, but what came out managed to surprise her yet again.
“I knew Byron was dead.”
“Y… you did?” It wasn’t exactly a confession, but it was pretty close.
Claudia nodded. “I feel so horrible, Melody. After Byron and I argued, I did storm off as I said, to come back here and pack. What I didn’t tell anyone is that halfway back to the Inn, I cooled down a bit and turned around. With a much clearer head, I wanted to speak with him like a civilized person… wanted to clear things up about our relationship. I needed to know once and for all where we stood, and if he gave the slightest inclination that he was going to continue stringing me along like some airhead, I was prepared to end things.
“I returned to the gallery, and I found him lying on the floor. I then began lecturing him about his drinking habits. He often drank too much and fell asleep at the oddest places. But I realized that he wasn’t looking so good. His skin was so pale. When I checked he... wasn’t breathing, and there was blood… gore… pooling around his head.”
Eyes brimming with fresh tears, Claudia let out another sob. “He was dead, and I panicked and ran. I’m a horrible person!”
Melody’s mouth snapped shut. Needless to say, she was surprised by Claudia’s confession. So, maybe the woman was innocent after all.
“You should have called the police right then and there, Claudia.”
“I know,” she wailed. “But I just wanted to go home.”
Settling on the floor beside her, Melody rested a hand on her trembling shoulder. “You made a mistake, it’s all right. Tell me what Byron was really like. Was he really as talented as everyone says? Or was he really an art thief?” If the man really was that vindictive and he did indeed steal Sam’s work, perhaps Sam really was guilty. The thought made Melody’s heart drop to her stomach.
Dashing away tears, Claudia sniffed. “Without a doubt, Byron was a gifted artist... once. I don’t know what happened.” She shrugged. “But, he lost his mojo along the way and started stealing work from lesser-known artists. He would take their paintings and just brush over them, so they were slightly different. Just adding a touch of his style. I thought it was despicable, but I already loved him, and I decided to stand in his corner to see if I could bring him back to the man he used to be. So, I kept his secret.”
“Oh, my word,” Melody murmured. “So, he did steal from Sam.”
“He most certainly did. I was present when Sam handed Byron his work, and I heard Byron promise to critique them, but I knew better. I watched Byron touch up those paintings with my own two eyes. He would always throw in a different stroke or technique here and there to say it was his own.” Claudia rolled her eyes. “It was still straight up stealing, but I foolishly kept my mouth shut.”
“Poor Sam,” Melody said, shaking her head. “No one believed him.”
“The difference with Sam and the other artists Byron stole from is that they knew well enough to keep their mouths shut because eventually, Byron did make good on his promise to help move their careers forward. Sam would have gotten that same benefit if he hadn’t flown off the handle. Byron was a no-good thief and a liar, but I think his guilt always propelled him to help out those he stole from… you know, to give them more exposure, to mention their names, that sort of thing. They would receive greater opportunities after that.”
Melody nodded. That explained why Byron had tried to calm Sam down and cart him off to a private room. He most likely intended to strike some kind of deal. “Oh, Claudia, I’m so sorry for showing up here and hurling accusations.”
Claudia lifted a slim shoulder. “I can see why you would think I was guilty.”
“I’m going to get out of your hair, but I think it’s best if you stay in town until Byron’s murder is solved. Speak with the sheriff and tell him everything this time. Set yourself and your conscience free.”
The woman ran her fingers through a silky curtain of hair and let out a long sigh. “I think that’s good advice. I’ll stay. I have nothing to hide anymore. I hope your friend, Sam, is proven innocent. He’s the real artist, and he deserves his chance to shine.”
Melody was in complete agreement. She was more determined than ever to help Sam. That meant she was going to pay someone, who everyone seemed to have overlooked, a visit… Eli Kritchner. Just be
cause he reported the crime didn’t mean he was innocent.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Melody found Eli in the process of removing Byron’s paintings. He wore a scowl and muttered to himself as he worked.
Melody alerted him to her presence. “Mr. Kritchner.”
When he spun around, his scowl deepened. “Melody Marshall. Now isn’t a good time. I’m busy.”
“This won’t take long,” she promised, stepping further inside with Smudge on her heels. “You’re taking down Byron’s work already?” She had no idea the artist’s death would warrant removing his work. If anything, she thought Eli would profit from the extra attention.
“Of course.” Eli spared her a look over his shoulder. “Byron’s manner of death is the worst kind of publicity. As if it wasn’t enough that he nearly got into a fight with one of the locals last night, he had to get murdered here too.”
Melody winced, hating how insensitive the gallery owner sounded. “Well, it’s hardly his fault that he got killed.”
She was sent another annoyed look. “It isn’t just that. The mere whisper of him being a fraud has cast a negative shadow over my gallery. Now, I’ll be known for displaying stolen work, and work that was stolen from my fellow townsfolk at that. I need to get rid of these paintings now and start doing damage control.” He dumped the last painting in a box and dusted off his hands.
As if just realizing that Melody still stood there staring at him, he gave her his attention. “So, what is it that I can do for you?”
“I just wanted to ask you a few questions about Byron. I understand that you discovered the body. How did you happen upon it? I mean, you don’t usually open the gallery before nine.”
Eli placed his hands on his hips and frowned. “Like I said, my credibility took a blow because of Byron’s scam. I decided to come in early to remove all traces of his work, and I just stumbled upon his body. I suppose I forgot to lock the back door, and that’s how he got in.” Eli stared at the spot where Melody stood and pointed. “He was just lying there.”
Looking down at the spot, with alarm, Melody hopped away. “Good grief,” she muttered, shivering slightly before quickly composing herself. Of course, she would unwittingly stand in the spot where the dead body had been.
“I thought he was passed out drunk at first. Boy, was I wrong! I immediately went to the police.”
Studying Eli in silence for a moment, Melody wondered about the best way to ask him if he killed Byron. She couldn’t come right out and ask, by the way, are you a murderer?
Nope, that won’t do.
“You said Byron’s scam may have ruined your reputation. I bet that made you mad.”
“That’s an understatement,” Eli snorted. “I was livid.”
“Livid enough to confront Byron and... harm him?” she asked tentatively.
The silence that fell over the gallery like a thick blanket was almost stifling. Eli peered at Melody with piercing eyes. He then let out a humorless laugh.
“You are a piece of work, Melody Marshall. Why, you just accused me of killing Byron. That’s just ludicrous,” he scoffed and then glared. “Perhaps you should stick to your day job… baking desserts. Just because you helped to solve a few crimes before, doesn’t make you an expert detective. Everyone knows you get to stick your nose into police business only because you’re dating the sheriff.”
Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, she gave Eli a withering glare of her own. You mean little man. Somehow, she managed to keep that thought to herself.
“For your information, Mr. Kritchner, my relationship with the sheriff has nothing to do with me trying to help my friends. No, I don’t have a badge, but I’d say I have a knack for solving crimes, which I’ve proven time after time.”
With a haughty sniff, she turned to leave but paused. Turning to Eli, she said, “Another thing, you might want to get a hold of some of Sam’s original paintings and display them under the real artist’s name. I got it from a good source that Byron did indeed steal Sam’s work.”
Eli gave a rude snort and opened his mouth to protest, but then he seemed to reconsider.
“You know, you might be on to something,” he murmured. He lifted his hands to paint an imaginary picture. “Eli Kritchner brings justice to a wronged artist. That headline sounds great for the front page.” He rubbed his hands with glee. “Perhaps I can salvage the reputation of my gallery after all.”
Melody simply stared at the man, amused, but glad that she’d probably done something good for Sam.
“Let’s get out of here, Smudge,” she whispered.
Again, she stopped when she heard Eli, still planning aloud, say, “And I can sell those sketches that Byron left in my office for a hefty price. Cha-ching!” he cackled.
Melody swung back around. “Sketches? What sketches?”
It seemed the thought of money, and good publicity had changed Eli’s mood because he grinned. “Byron was working on a few sketches when he first arrived, you know, brainstorming, trying out ideas. They didn’t make it to his canvas, but I bet they’re worth something.”
It wouldn’t help with the case, but her curiosity was piqued. “May I take a look at them?”
“I don’t see why not. Just a sec.”
He returned seconds later with a large sketch pad. Melody flipped through the pages. Okay, Byron had skills, but she could see why he’d stolen Sam’s work. The ideas that Byron sketched were... flat. They lacked the passion and beauty captured in Sam’s paintings.
“What do you think?” Eli asked excitedly. “Do you think they’ll sell?”
“Well, Byron Elmsford’s name was pretty huge, and I imagine it will be even bigger now that he’s gone.” She thought of the many celebrities whose fame and fortune skyrocketed after their deaths. “I think any work done by him right before he died will be huge hits. People will pay big for his work now.”
“That’s exactly what I thought,” Eli returned, nodding enthusiastically. “I’ll make a nice chunk of change. It’s the least that Byron Elmsford can do considering that he brought such horrible publicity to my gallery and my name.”
Melody gazed slack-jawed at Eli. It constantly amazed her how callous the man was. Byron died, and all he could think about was cashing in. Shaking her head slowly, and not bothering to comment, she returned her attention to Byron’s sketches.
As she flipped through the pads, she saw various sketches of female models. Many of them were Claudia… but, there was one toward the back that made her gasp and slam the pad shut.
“Oh, my God.”
Fishing her cell from her pocket, she called Alvin. There was no answer, and she figured he was probably in the middle of questioning Claudia again. So, she left him a message.
“Shoot!”
It seemed she and Smudge would have to follow up on the intriguing and totally unexpected lead by themselves.
Chapter Forty-Eight
By the time Melody reached the pharmacy, Vanessa was in the process of closing up. Rushing inside, a little breathless from her power walk, and the excitement coursing through her veins, Melody stopped to take a breath.
“Vanessa, closing up early today?”
The woman seemed surprised to see Melody. “Hey, Melody. Yes, I’m closing early today. I’ve been having a rough time. If you’re here for something, I don’t mind helping you out.”
Glancing around, Melody shook her head. “Actually, I just stopped by to have a chat.”
“Oh... okay.” Vanessa gave away her nervousness with her sharp intake of breath and the way her eyes skated away from Melody.
“How are you doing?”
“Not so well,” Vanessa shrugged. “I’ll be fine in a few days, I guess. Is there any update on the case? On Sam?”
Stepping closer, Melody watched Vanessa move around behind the counter. If one looked closely enough, it was easy to see that her movements were jerky. She was nervous about Melody’s presence. When she took up a few vials to c
ount them, something clicked in Melody’s brain.
She stared at the vials of medication in Vanessa’s hands and reflected how Sam had behaved at the art show, even though he claimed to have had only one drink. Her eyes snapped to Vanessa. “Sam is still locked up. His memory is intact, enough to get some useful information. But he kept saying his mind was fuzzy almost as if... he’d been drugged.”
Vanessa froze, but Melody had her pinned with tunnel vision. She saw the woman’s hands shake ever so slightly. She was pretty sure she’d just connected the dots. Vanessa had done something to Sam.
Swallowing, Vanessa frowned. “Yes, I did confirm that he only had one drink all night. Maybe he took something that didn’t agree with the champagne. Taking medication and drinking can have serious effects.” The pharmacist smiled slightly and resumed preparing to close up.
“I’m aware,” Melody said lowly. “You know, Vanessa, I was surprised to see you on Sam’s arm. I mean, to my knowledge, you’ve shown no interest in him prior to the art show, and he hardly seems your type.”
“Now, you’re judging my relationship with Sam?” Vanessa laughed. “You’ve taken the small-town nosey residents thing to a whole new level, Melody. And you don’t know my type,” she snarled. “You know nothing about me.”
Melody held back her satisfied smirk when she saw the flash of temper in the woman’s eyes. Vanessa had let her know exactly what she needed to know, that her sweet, docile facade held anger and contempt underneath.
“Wow, I’ve never seen you so... angry before Vanessa,” Melody goaded. It occurred to her that it was less than smart to infuriate the person she suspected of committing murder, but maybe she could cause Vanessa to slip up and confess.
“What do you expect when you come in here and start judging?”
