Kill Them with Canvas, page 14
“Guess we can continue the conversation later, if need be.” Hunter held up the evidence bag once more. “I’ll send this to the lab and see what comes up.” He stared at Dewey, who went about his business.
“Chloe, can I speak with you privately?” Hunter nodded his head to one side.
“Sure.” I set Max down and secured the leash. We followed Hunter out to the parking lot. Turning, I watched one, then two more vehicles get in line as Dewey waved them onto the deck. My guess was Dewey would plan to leave town, if he was the one who had hidden the bag. He wasn’t the sort to survive a police interrogation or jail. Dewey was a solitary soul and too sensitive, which puzzled me. How could such a person kill another human being, then act as if nothing had happened? Of course there was another possible explanation. He had seen or witnessed the whole incident—Viola struggling with someone before ending up facedown in the lake. At least, that’s how I pictured the scene since the idea she’d had an accident seemed less and less conceivable to me. If only I could be absolutely certain Dewey was innocent. I worried my friendship with him kept me from being objective.
“I thought maybe I’d finish that coffee with you at Spill the Beans? I mean, if you want to and aren’t busy?” He cleared his throat and suddenly stooped down to pet Max. “Cute. He’s yours, right?”
I hid the grin by reaching up to scratch my nose. “Yeah, he’s my buddy. We go back several years.” I giggled as Max sat up on his hind legs and licked Hunter’s face. “I think he likes you.”
Hunter gave Max a final pat on the head and stood once more. “I get that a lot. I’m a likeable sort of guy.”
“Do you have a pet?” I sidetracked the conversation.
“No. I work long hours. It wouldn’t be fair to leave one alone all day or night.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “About that coffee, I should go. I forgot to pay, and I don’t want to get a reputation for being the sort of cop who expects free stuff.”
I anchored my fist on my hip. “Seriously, do cops expect that kind of thing? Seems pretty shady to me.” A grin wiggled its way onto my lips. “I’d join you, but I promised Izzie I’d be at the shop in …” I glanced at my watch. “And I’m late.” I tugged on Max’s leash and led him across the drive toward Whisper Cove Lane. “Bye, Hunter! Enjoy your coffee.” I waved.
“I could give you a lift,” he called out.
“We’re fine. Thanks.” I didn’t need Izzie or Willow peering out the shop window to see Hunter dropping us off. The more I avoided their teasing jabs, the better.
We rounded the corner and jogged toward Paint with a View. “Sorry, Max. You’re spending the morning at the shop. I’ll take you home at lunchtime.” Looking down at him, I wasn’t watching as I collided with someone coming from the opposite direction. “Good grief! I’m so sorry.” I clutched a hand to my throat and stared straight at Spencer’s irritated scowl, deepening the creases along her forehead. “Spencer.” I stepped backward. “How great is this? A cousin reunion.” My voice fizzled at the end, and I shrugged to dismiss the awkward moment.
Spencer flipped her long curls over her shoulder. “Cousin reunion. That’s so clever. You always did have a way with words, Chloe.” She leaned in to air-kiss each of my cheeks. “Are you on your way inside? I wanted to have a talk with both you and Izzie.”
“Um, yeah, sure. I mean, we are kind of busy.” I hurried along behind her as she marched her lanky, mile-long legs up the steps and pushed open the door with unnecessary force.
“Wow, you ladies are impressive. Just look at this place.” She twirled around on her spiked heels with both arms held high.
“Spencer.” Izzie squealed and tackled her with a tight hug. “You look amazing.” She stroked Spencer’s face with the back of one hand. “How do you keep your skin so soft? Are you staying at Aunt Constance’s house? It’s so good to see you.”
I turned away, too embarrassed to watch. Izzie had always gotten along well with Spencer, but she did all the work. I wasn’t sure Spencer appreciated the effort. They were alike in many ways, except Izzie didn’t have that same self-serving, manipulative personality. Thank goodness. I heaved a sigh. What was it they said? Forgive and forget. The past is the past. Let bygones be bygones. Turn the other cheek. Maybe I was acting too petty or feeling insecure, but some memories were etched in my brain like an ugly tattoo, a permanent reminder of the past.
“Actually, I just got a room at the hotel in Laurel Bay. Not as close as I’d like to be to Whisper Cove, but closer than Mom’s house in Mayville. I have to oversee the construction of my shop, right? You know, this will be such fun. You’re right, Chloe. It’s a cousin reunion. We’ll be the coziest business neighbors too. We can help each other out. I’ll suggest to my customers if they enjoy painting and drinking, they should check out Paint with a View for an event. And you can return the favor by letting your customers know about my shop, A Stitch in Time. Isn’t that the cutest name ever?” Spencer clasped her hands together.
My brain stalled on the words neighbors and my shop since that meant Megan was right. Spencer was building her shop on Sammy’s lot, which she had almost certainly purchased. Her scheme had already been set in motion. I opened and shut my mouth several times, trying to wrap my mind around the idea while looking for the holes in her plan.
“Hey! That’s great. Isn’t that great, Chloe?” Izzie gave me an encouraging smile.
“Yeah, really great. Congrats, Spencer. That’s a huge step. I mean, running a craft shop without experience—and what about investment? Takes lots of cash.” I stepped over to one of the stools and hitched my rear on the seat.
Izzie cleared her throat and gave a slight shake of her head, along with a reproachful glare.
“I’m just complimenting Spencer on her courage to leave a successful career in Los Angeles and jump into a risky and costly venture.” I smiled.
Spencer blushed and fingered the strap of her bag. Her chin lifted. “I’m not so sure you meant that as a compliment. Risky business ventures aren’t unfamiliar to me, you know. I deal with them all the time. Besides, I love a new challenge, and living closer to family is a plus. I think we should be celebrating this moment.” She let go of a rattled breath. “Now, enough talk about business. What I really came to talk about is my mother.”
I had to admire the swift segue, taking the focus off herself, especially to talk about Aunt Constance.
“Have you spoken with her since you got back?” Izzie’s lips pressed in a tight line.
“I have.” Spencer dropped her bag on the table as she sat in a chair. “She was very upset and repeated over and over how she was going to jail.” She threw up her arms. “How could you two let that happen?”
I threw Izzie a puzzled glance and shrugged. I had no clue where Spencer was going with that question, other than some place not good.
“Let what happen?” Izzie finally spoke.
“You knew she was upset at your paint party after the argument with that director. Still, you allowed her to leave without taking even a few seconds to make sure she was okay. How could you?” A headshake followed along with a tsk-tsk.
Was she serious? Resentment surged through me as if a spark of anger had suddenly lit. Saying it was our fault she was a suspect was totally out of line. “Did you ask her about that night, like where she went after leaving the lodge? There’s an hour missing from her account of that evening, Spencer. She can’t or won’t explain it, only that she drove around to clear her head. It’s no wonder Hunter is highly suspicious.” My voice tinged with irritation as it pitched higher.
Izzie stepped in front of me. “What Chloe means is we’re frustrated too. We’re trying really hard to help your mom, but she needs to do her part and give Hunter a solid alibi.” She touched Spencer’s arm. “Hey, we’re worried right along with you, but it’ll be okay. She’s innocent. We know that too.”
Spencer sniffed. “Is she? How do you know for sure?”
I blinked. If this had happened to one of our parents, I’d have total confidence in their innocence.
“Well.” Spencer sprang out of her seat and grabbed her bag. “I should go. I have a meeting with the construction company to go over plans for my shop.” She leveled her gaze at me with that last comment.
“Good luck,” Izzie called out as Spencer disappeared through the doorway.
“Can you believe her? That took some serious nerve, blaming us like that.” I struggled for my kinder self to take control.
“Yeah, she’s not being fair, but she’s upset.” Izzie picked at a hangnail on her thumb.
“Of course, when Aunt Constance is unhappy, then Spencer can’t get whatever she wants,” I quipped.
“I’ll admit Spencer has a history of asking for, sometimes demanding, a lot. Especially since Uncle David died.” Izzie grabbed her phone. “I’m calling Aunt Constance to make sure she’s okay.”
“Good idea. While you’re talking to her, I’ll call to see if I can warn Ross. Chances are, Spencer will pay him a visit too, and who knows what accusations she might throw at him?”
This visit triggered my memory of the wake we’d had for Uncle David. The blowout between Aunt Constance and Spencer was both uncomfortable and embarrassing. Even though they’d talked privately in the next room, everyone who’d attended could hear their shouts. Spencer had refused to accept the terms of the will. She had demanded her share of the inheritance immediately, but Aunt Constance held firm on her husband’s wishes. Spencer wouldn’t receive any money left to her until she turned thirty. It didn’t take much of a guess as to why Uncle David had set those terms. Spencer hadn’t exactly been careful with her money or lifestyle during her late teens and early twenties. Most likely, he hoped that, with time and living independently, Spencer would become more responsible. I wasn’t so optimistic. In two years, she’d turn thirty, and I hadn’t noticed much improvement. However, maybe I was wrong. She’d only been back to visit a few times in the past couple of years. She could have saved enough to take on this business venture without any handouts from her mother. I groaned and walked back to the storage room to take inventory of our supplies. Two things I was sure of: First, Aunt Constance didn’t need any extra stress or distractions. Not when she had a murder rap hanging over her head. Second, Spencer living in the area, with a shop close to ours, where we’d see each other almost every day, would be a challenge.
Before I had the chance to call Ross, my phone buzzed. I recognized the number and picked up. “Hi, Hunter. Did you find out any more about Viola’s bag?”
“No, but I did get a call from the lab about something else.” The crackling sound of paper filled my ear.
I pulled bottles of paint from a box and shoved them on the shelf as I tensed. I’d have felt more confident if he’d started with, “I’ve got great news.”
“One of the items inside your aunt’s car causes concern. I’m sorry to say, analysis of all that evidence the team collected took time, and the lab’s been slammed with cases. Chloe, there was a glove found underneath the back seat.”
“Aunt Constance leaves things in her car all the time. I know. I’ve ridden with her.” I rushed my words, hoping that what my gut told me wasn’t true. He wouldn’t call about anything belonging to her. My breath hitched. Unless there were traces of blood on it.
“I’m afraid that’s not the case. Chloe, the glove is embroidered with the initials VMF.”
Chapter Eleven
Izzie and I sat like bookends on either side of Aunt Constance. The clock located on the mantel in her living room chimed nine times. I stifled a yawn. Worrying about Hunter’s discovery of Viola’s glove had caused me to toss and turn all night.
Spencer hadn’t answered her phone when I’d called earlier this morning. Frustrated after trying her number three times, I had given up. Aunt Constance would miss her daughter’s support at a time like this. I reminded myself Spencer had no idea what was going on with Hunter’s latest find and how it implicated Aunt Constance. Still, irritation colored my mood.
This morning had been the first opportunity that Hunter had to talk to the person who’d become his prime suspect. Poor Aunt Constance. After several failed attempts to contact her yesterday, Hunter was not a happy man. I could tell by the edgy tone of his voice when we had spoken last night.
Unfortunately for Hunter, Aunt Constance had been without her phone for several hours. In her absentmindedness, probably as a result of how unsettled her life was right now, she’d left the phone at the grocery store yesterday afternoon, then spent the entire evening searching for it. By the time she’d remembered where she’d last had it, the store had closed.
As it was, I had finally gotten a hold of Aunt Constance early this morning, to pass along the news about Viola’s glove. At once, she broke down and cried. The incessant sobs made her end of the conversation confusing, with lots of incoherent babble. I gave up and told her Izzie and I would be right over. No surprise, Hunter showed up at the house minutes later.
The tea kettle whistled, and I jumped out of my seat. “I’ll make tea. Chamomile to calm us, or at least me. I really need calming. Anyone else?” I shifted my gaze around the room.
Aunt Constance wiggled her hand. “I’ll take mine with a shot of brandy.”
“But it’s only nine in the morning,” I said, which earned me a deathlike stare. I gave her a thumbs-up. “One spiked tea, coming up.”
“Grab me a water from the fridge, please,” Izzie said. “How about you, Hunter?”
He shook his head. “If we could, I’d like to get started with a few questions.”
“Wait until I get back, okay?” I jogged to the kitchen, poured two cups of tea, added a teaspoon of brandy to one, and placed both on a tray. Stuffing a bottle of water in my back pocket, I hurried back to the room. “Here you go,” I said as I handed each of them their beverage.
Hunter held up his notepad and pen. “Now, I was about to ask—” He was interrupted when the doorbell rang, and he fell back against the chair and groaned.
Before any of us could answer, Ross stepped inside. “Don’t worry, Constance. I’ll take it from here.” He swiveled to face Hunter. “Have you read Mrs. Abbington her rights?”
“Have I …?” Hunter threw up his arms and grunted. “No, I haven’t read the Miranda warning to Mrs. Abbington because I’m not here to arrest her. Just to ask a few questions, if you don’t mind.”
With curled lips, Ross folded his arms over his chest. “That depends on the questions. I’ll stop this interrogation at any hint of impropriety and if my client’s rights are being violated.”
Hunter scratched his jaw. “Just a couple of questions, Attorney. Nothing to break a sweat over. Okay?”
“I’m simply looking after my client, Detective. You understand.” Ross relaxed his shoulders and smiled while taking a seat next to me.
I released my breath, and the tension eased out. The surly behavior between them seemed to be over. Why it had even started, I didn’t know.
Aunt Constance gripped my hand. “Here goes. True confession time.”
As she slid a quick glance my way, I shot her a puzzled look. Whatever she meant by that remark, I could only guess it must involve the glove, which might also explain where she’d been during that missing hour.
“As you probably already learned”—Hunter’s eyes sparked without casting his look of annoyance at me or Izzie—“my guys found this underneath the back seat of your car.” He held up the evidence bag with the glove inside. “The initials VMF are embroidered on the glove. I don’t suppose you can explain how it got in your vehicle?”
Several heart-pounding seconds passed before Aunt Constance cleared her throat and shrugged. “Not a clue, though I imagine Viola could’ve dropped it when I gave her a ride to Bellows Lodge for the paint event.”
Hunter’s eyebrow inched up. “In the back seat?”
Aunt Constance squirmed and shifted her rear end and sipped her tea without a word.
“I think that’s enough. If my client says she doesn’t have a clue, then she doesn’t know,” Ross interjected.
Hunter leaned back in his chair. He ran his tongue across his lower lip. “I think your client could explain more. For instance, did Viola ride in the back seat to the event? I mean, that would make sense since the glove was found there. I’m simply trying to clarify.”
“Or maybe Viola put her bag in the back seat. You know it was pretty big, almost the size of an overnight case,” Izzie said. “Maybe her glove dropped when she reached in to grab her bag.”
“Excellent theory, Izzie,” Ross added. “What about that, Detective?”
“According to my team’s report, the glove was underneath the seat. If she dropped it, the glove would’ve landed on the floor mat.”
“Oh dear.” Aunt Constance pressed both hands to her cheeks. “I’m feeling flushed and a bit faint. Maybe the brandy wasn’t such a good idea.”
“It was only a teaspoonful.” I touched her forehead. “You don’t seem hot, but maybe you should go lie down.”
“Chloe’s right. Besides, my client has answered your question to the best of her knowledge. I think we’re done here,” Ross said.
Hunter’s jaw grew taut. He gripped his thighs and stood.
I kept a wary eye on him while he struggled to keep his cool. “We don’t want another fainting spell. That’s for sure.” That appeared to calm him, and he gave me a slight nod of the chin. “Great. Aunt Constance, let’s get you upstairs.”
“But—” Ross started.
“You can speak with her later.” I gave him my don’t-mess-with-me look. “I’m not sure what’s going on between you two, but figure it out, and manage a little patience while you’re at it. Okay?”
Without waiting for either of them to respond, Izzie took Aunt Constance’s arm and led her up the stairs while I went to the kitchen to rummage in the fridge for something warm and comforting that she would eat. I worried this was far from over. Viola’s glove being in the back seat of Aunt Constance’s car meant something. One more piece of the puzzle to figure out, and right now, Aunt Constance’s refusing to talk wasn’t helping.
