Kill them with canvas, p.20
Kill Them with Canvas, page 20
“Let me help. I’ll do the digging. I’m sure I can find something.” Spencer’s footprint was all over social media. How hard could it be to gather information about her life?
“Thanks. Honestly, Spencer’s business ventures are none of my concern, but I do care how her relationship impacts my client. Now, what article were you talking about?”
“Get a copy of today’s Whisper Cove Gazette. You’ll find it on page one. Have fun.” I thanked him for calling, then quickly got off the phone, anxious to get back to the shop and hear what Izzie had to say.
As I crossed the lawn, I caught sight of Spencer. She had her phone slapped to one ear. Her mouth moved fast, and the volume carried down Artisan Alley. I guessed things weren’t going well with the bank. It wouldn’t surprise me if her loan was denied. Convincing Aunt Constance to ignore Spencer’s plea for money seemed more urgent than ever. My worry was, if my aunt didn’t give it to her willingly, Spencer would resort to some deceitful means to get her hands on the money.
I gritted my teeth. “It’s time to find out what Spencer has been up to the past few years.”
I entered the shop and could hear Izzie talking in the storage room. I put the “Closed” sign on the door and, grabbing the laptop, made my way to the back.
“Please, Aunt Constance. We know the article is bogus. By next week, people will have new stories to gossip about. And stop apologizing. You didn’t know when you sent him away that he’d be such a jerk about it. Get some rest, and we’ll stop by later.” Izzie turned to face me as she hung up. “She’s livid and scared. Wink only wanted to badger her with questions about the murder. He wasn’t interested in her romantically. She got so angry that she threatened to call the police and report him for trespassing. The poor woman says she’ll never be able to face people again without feeling judged.”
“So, we were right about him going to visit her. He definitely gives journalists a bad name.” My cheeks puffed out as I drew in, then slowly released my breath. “I feel for her, and it is horrible, but once the killer is caught, everyone will forget she was a suspect, and all the nasty stuff in that article.”
“I told her as much, but I don’t think she heard me. Did Ross say anything about it?” Izzie straddled the back of a chair and rested her chin on top.
“He hasn’t seen the article. We talked about Spencer, though.” I gave her the highlights of our conversation.
“I have to admit, I’m thinking the way you would. Why did she turn up in Whisper Cove now? After all this time, she comes back when Aunt Constance is fighting for her freedom. Sounds suspicious.” She glanced at the laptop in my hands. “What are you doing?”
“I’m digging for information.” I typed the name of Spencer’s employer, Jansen Tech Software, in the search bar and got on the website. “Hold on.” I blinked, and my jaw dropped. “Izzie, the company Spencer works for went bankrupt and decided to close down permanently.” I fixed my gaze on her. “Three months ago.”
A queasiness spread through me. This story kept getting worse, underlining the question I couldn’t get out of my head. What was Spencer planning? I had every suspicious thought possible circling inside my brain. Not the ideal time right now, since I needed to focus on how to clear Aunt Constance’s name and lead the way to who killed Viola. Or at least help find that person. I didn’t intend to step on Hunter’s investigative toes, but in this circumstance I’d do whatever it took to save Aunt Constance and the Abbington name from being dragged through the gossip dirt.
“Wow. What do you think she’s been doing for the past three months? Hanging out at some California café, sipping Appletinis?” Izzie drummed her fingers on the chairback. “I’m truly at a loss to defend her, which is a shame because I always got along with Spencer.”
“Yeah, I’ll admit, even though we have our differences, I’m surprised she’d keep something as serious as losing her job a secret. Do you think Aunt Constance knows?” I wasn’t sure why I asked, because I already had the answer in mind.
“Of course. She can count on her mother’s support, no matter how bad things are,” Izzie said.
“Do you think we should confront Spencer?” I tipped my head, giving the suggestion some serious thought.
“She’d know we were snooping.” Izzie bit her nail. “But how else will we get answers?”
“The thing is, we don’t want to take too much time away from Viola’s case. That’s where our efforts should be going.” I sighed, then refocused on the laptop and scrolled through any other information I could find about Spencer’s now defunct employer. I shot out of my seat as a sudden notion hit me. “Why didn’t I think of that before?” I snapped my fingers. “Sammy.”
“Sammy?” Izzie tilted her head to the side.
“The property belonged to her. She’ll have all the details of the sale to Spencer.” I rummaged in my bag. “I’ll give her a call and ask.”
I drummed my fingers on the counter in quick tempo, waiting for someone to pick up. Three rings later, she answered. “Hey, Sammy! How are things in Altoona?” I pushed the speaker button. Izzie and I listened to a frenzied recap of Sammy’s family happenings and her news of starting up a business with her cousins.
“Me partnering with them wouldn’t have happened, but I got lucky when someone offered to buy the Artisan Alley property. Neat, huh?”
“Good for you.” I paused a second. “I’m sure you know the buyer is related to us. Spencer is our cousin.”
“Yes, I asked the realtor representing her. I never talked to your cousin directly. The deal went like a dream. I had no problems or complaints, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
I glimpsed Izzie for a second. “No, that’s not it. Do you know how the purchase was paid for?”
“Why are you asking? Is something wrong? Like I said, the deal went through. I got my money, and my cousins and I are excited to open Accessory Imports.” Her voice pitched higher.
“Nothing’s wrong, Sammy. Not for you, anyway.” I tugged on my ear, working through how much to tell her. “We’re just worried about Spencer’s mother, and we’re trying to gather as much information as we can. Do you know if the money you received came from a bank loan or was paid in cash? Not exactly the kind of thing sellers are aware of, but I thought there was a chance you—”
“Hold on. You don’t need to explain. Just so happens one of my cousins works at a bank. This wasn’t exactly what you’d call ethical, but we did a little digging to make sure the buyer was legit. We didn’t want any problems to botch up our plans. Anyway, through my cousin’s connections, we learned the buyer, your cousin, was approved for a loan from First National Bank of New York with twenty percent down. Does that help?”
My breath quickened, and I returned Izzie’s high-five gesture. “Absolutely. Thanks, Sammy.” I hung up and, with a trembling hand, laid the phone on the counter.
“Wow. First National Bank is where Aunt Constance keeps her money. Dad and Mom too. You know what that means.” Izzie’s eyes grew bright. “If she didn’t help Spencer get that loan, and maybe even dish out the twenty percent down, I’ll eat Mom’s quinoa recipes for a month without complaining.”
“I’ll second your bet, and I like those quinoa dishes less than you do.”
“How do we handle this? Confront Aunt Constance? Have Dad do some snooping behind her back? He’s the appointed financial advisor of the Abbington money.”
“Out of respect for her, I think we should ask Aunt Constance.”
“What if she denies it?” Izzie chewed on her ragged thumbnail.
“Then we ask Dad to investigate.”
“What about Spencer losing her job? If Aunt Constance doesn’t know, and then finds out we knew but didn’t tell her, she’ll be plenty angry. Then again, I worry about what all this stress will do to her health. Maybe we should wait.”
I rolled my shoulders to ease the tension. “I agree. She’s stressed enough. Let’s deal with one issue at a time.”
Chapter Sixteen
Izzie took off early to open the shop and left me a note saying to come in when I could. She knew I’d had a rough night with Max and his tummy issues. It was nice having an understanding partner. I splashed cold water on my face, then sprinted downstairs to the kitchen.
Milo chomped on his food while Max stared longingly, then picked through his rice and chicken mix, his diet for the time being.
“Good morning. I hope there’s some coffee left.”
Milo hopped and danced around me, vying for my attention. I laughed at the sight of Max attempting to get at his canine buddy’s breakfast.
Mom quickly snatched it away, then turned to me. “I made a second pot. Are you staying to eat? I can whip up an omelet,” she said.
“No time. I’m late getting to the shop.” I grabbed my coffee and a blueberry bagel. “See you at dinner. Love you.” I gave her a quick peck on the cheek and peeked over her shoulder to view the backyard. “Where’s Dad? I thought he planned to do some bulb planting today.”
“Right now he’s next door helping Mr. Bixby unload the firewood delivery. I’m heading out to my work shed to finish the painting I started. You have a good day.”
After a steady rain had fallen throughout the night, this morning brought out the sun and blue skies. I inhaled the crisp, musky-sweet scent of dried leaves and the cool, pungent smell of pine sap. Smiling, I skipped down the porch steps and jogged to my car. I spotted Dad and Mr. Bixby standing by the pile of wood, chatting and drinking from the mugs they held, cupped in their hands. More than likely, that wood pile wouldn’t be completely moved until late afternoon. Planting bulbs would be put off until tomorrow or whenever the weather cooperated. I loved the slow and easy pace of life around here. A pleasant difference from the hustle and bustle of Manhattan.
I turned toward Main Street to make a quick stop at For Sweet’s Sake, to grab a muffin and coffee for Izzie, who probably hadn’t bothered to eat before going to work. Stepping through the doorway, I froze. Spencer was at the counter, paying for her purchase. In her usual friendly fashion, she chattered on and on with Claire. “Morning, ladies. How are you?” I slid to a stop next to Spencer.
“Chloe. What a surprise seeing you here.” Spencer smiled and tucked her credit card back inside her bag.
“It shouldn’t be. I come here all the time, so no surprise.” My tone grew edgy because all I could think about was how she’d lied, or at least hadn’t told us the truth about her job, which was the same as a lie.
“Silly. I meant surprised because I figured you’d be at work by now.” Spencer flipped her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Well, I’m off. Thank you, Claire. Bye, Chloe,” she called as she made her exit.
Claire’s shoulders shook as she bellowed a laugh. “That woman is sure about drama.”
“What do you mean?” I frowned.
“Every time I’ve run into her, she’s got a new story to tell. Always loaded with the drama. What a life she must have.”
I tugged my wallet out of my bag. “You mean she’s stopped here before?”
“Well, twice at the bakery, but I also met her in Buffalo at the bus depot. I was coming back on the train from Chicago after visiting my sister, and then took the bus the rest of the way home. Your cousin was on that ride, but when was that? It’s been a while. Hmm, let me think.” Claire tapped her lip with one finger and stared at the ceiling.
“Wait. What?” My mind raced to count back. Megan had spotted Spencer a week ago. What was Claire implying?
Claire snapped her fingers. “I can’t believe it’s been two weeks. Of course, my sister and I talk on the phone almost every day, but yes. The trip when I saw your cousin was two weeks ago. I remember she told me she was going to Mayville to see her mother—that’s your aunt Constance, right? After that, on to Whisper Cove about business.”
“Yeah, Aunt Constance is Spencer’s mom.” My voice grew flat. Two weeks ago would have been right before Viola’s murder. Spencer was in Mayville at the time. Or at least, that’s where she’d told Claire she was going. That could’ve been another lie, but what worried me was the possibility that Aunt Constance had lied too.
“Is something wrong, Chloe?” Claire’s brow creased.
I forced my lips into a smile. “No, everything’s perfect. I’ll take a coffee and a bran muffin to go.”
I sped down Whisper Cove Boulevard. I couldn’t wrap my brain around what Claire had told me. Why would Spencer have led us to believe she’d arrived home this past Friday and not two weeks ago? Of course, I hadn’t asked what day she got here, but still, that detail bothered me. Sometimes people covered up their stories with lies when they had something to hide, didn’t they? On impulse, I hit the voice command button. “Call Laurel Bay Hotel.” The hotel was tucked away in the wooded lakeside town of Laurel Bay, east of here. It was the perfect place for Spencer to hide out for several days, but why would she?
“Laurel Bay Hotel, how may I help you?”
“Yes, this is Spencer Abbington. I was thinking of paying my tab, but I can’t remember how many days I’ve been here. Silly me.” I tapped the steering wheel as I sat at the red light.
“Miss Abbington, you have fourteen days on your bill so far. Are you planning to check out today? If so, I can—”
“Never mind. I just remembered I have an appointment in town tomorrow and another the day after that. Seems my brain is frazzled with everything on my agenda. Sorry to bother you.” I stabbed the end call button and released my breath. “This is insane. How many lies has she told?”
I parked and sprang out of the car. With my bag and Izzie’s breakfast in hand, I hurried inside the shop. “Izzie.” I clutched my chest and waited until my heartbeat slowed.
“Are you okay? You look ready to pass out.” Izzie came from behind the counter and took everything I was carrying out of my hands, then pushed me into a chair.
“Sorry.” Giving myself another few seconds to relax, I nodded. “Spencer lied about how long she’s been in town. She’s been here for two weeks.”
She sat across from me. “What? How do you know? Oh boy, why would she lie about that?”
“Think, Izzie. Two weeks ago? That’s right before Viola’s murder. She checked into the Laurel Bay Hotel.”
“No.” Izzie shook her head slowly. “I don’t like where you’re going with this.”
“I’m not going anywhere with it. I’m saying she lied about when she arrived. I called the hotel, pretending to be her, and asked how many nights I’d been charged for so far. Fourteen. She lied, Izzie. I worry what else she could be hiding.”
I bent over to rest my elbows on my thighs and cradled my chin. Izzie’s hunch was right. I was “going there” but thought it wise to keep that scenario to myself. Spencer had been in the area the night of our painting event at Bellows Lodge and of Viola’s unfortunate demise. Totally irrelevant to the murder case, but I was uncomfortable with coincidences.
“You’re right. She’s been sneaky and secretive this whole time.” Izzie slouched in her seat. “Maybe we should skip the costume gig this afternoon. Too much is going on. Besides, dressed like that, we’d be too conspicuous. I mean, who’s going to say anything about the murder when three witches are lurking close by?”
“That’s what I’ve been saying. Why don’t we save the costumes for the Hallows Eve celebration on Saturday?” I relaxed as relief washed over me. Parading around town in costume wasn’t in my comfort zone, but on Hallows Eve, all the merchants and plenty of locals would be dressed up as their favorite characters, with plenty of ghosts, goblins, and witches joining in the fun.
“For a moment, I thought of us dressing up tomorrow evening for the Trick Your Pumpkin event, but let’s not take the chance of getting paint stains on our costumes.” She scrunched her nose.
“How about a more direct approach? For starters, a conversation with Wink might be useful.” I held up two fingers. “And Sarah. Whatever’s going on between them is sketchy. Too bad Dewey went into hiding.”
“Hunter will find him. Oh, and we need to add Marilyn to the list. She reminds me of a crazy groupie with a fatal attraction. If she turned out to be the killer, I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” Izzie added.
“Then it’s settled. Now, all we have to do is track them down to talk and hope we learn something useful.” I tapped my chin. “Marilyn and Sarah should be helping to set up kiosks and game booths. We’ll go out there this evening after dinner. As for Wink, we can always catch him later at the Gazette.” That queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach hinted the odds were stacked against us learning much, but we had to try.
“Don’t forget Aunt Constance and Spencer. We need to have a conversation with them too.” Izzie winced. “Won’t be easy getting to the truth.”
“After we deal with Marilyn, Sarah, and Wink. Okay?” I groaned. If it weren’t for Aunt Constance being in the middle of this tragedy, I’d gladly take a back seat to Hunter and his investigation.
We busied ourselves with last-minute prep for tomorrow evening’s event. Izzie and I finally got around to carving our pumpkin for the contest while Willow painted faces on a few to display in our window. She’d already finished her stage paintings for the event, showing the steps of our instructions. By mid-afternoon, everything on our to-do list had been checked off.
The jingle of door chimes alerted us to a visitor. I brushed off my jeans and walked to the front of the shop. Marilyn stood at the entrance. I smiled. Nothing easier than having a suspect come to your doorstep. I glanced over my shoulder. Izzie stood in the doorway and gave me a thumbs-up. Marilyn was all mine to question. “Hi, Marilyn. What brings you here?”
“I wanted to pay my admission for tomorrow evening’s event.” She turned her gaze away from me, to scan the room. “This place is wonderful. All the paintings and decorations, and the way you’ve set up the room for events—it’s all perfect. I will have to come more often. I love painting. I’m only a novice, but I try and make my best effort to improve.” She slapped her hand with her leather gloves. “My late husband turned one of our guest rooms into a studio, bless his heart.” She sniffed and lifted her chin. “He was a saint. Anyway, how much do I owe you?”
