Diva 03 _ Diva Paints the Town, The (14 page)
Read Diva 03 _ Diva Paints the Town, The Online
Authors: Krista Davis
Tags: #Murder, #Winston; Sophie (Fictitious Character), #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction, #Women Sleuths, #General, #Dwellings
Now she had my attention. “You saw Kurt?”
“No. But he’s here. His cell phone and car keys are in a drawer in his booth. They weren’t there earlier today.”
I sagged with relief, but not for long. “He better run in the opposite direction if I see him. How dare he scare us this way?”
She grinned. “We have to think of a way to get him back. Something he’ll remember for a long, long time.”
Camille climbed to the podium and welcomed all the guests. In an instant, the chatter ceased and everyone was seated. Waiters served smoked salmon, and asparagus wrapped in savory goat cheese while Camille explained that the awards had been broken into categories this year. There would still be only one Best in Show award, and it would count substantially toward the Design Guild Award given annually to the person who made the most significant contribution to the design community.
When Camille stepped down, she hurried toward me. Speaking quietly, she said, “I don’t know what happened to the little Waterford bowls we were going to give with the azaleas. A bellman unloaded them from our car, but they’re not here.”
As she sat down at the head table, next to an empty chair where Nolan should have been, I went in search of the bellman and the missing bowls. Luckily, I found that when he didn’t know what to do with them, he’d held them at the bellman’s stand. The only problem was convincing him that he could release them to me.
“I know I’m not the woman who brought them. But she’s already eating dinner at the banquet. And she will not be happy if these bowls aren’t down there when she finishes her dinner and presents awards.”
“Lady, I’m not handing these things over to a total stranger.”
He prattled on while I watched Nolan pace in front of the hotel, cell phone to his ear. He snapped it shut, and when he rushed past me, he seemed upset about something.
At long last, I managed to convince the bellman to bring the bowls to the convention hall. I carried them up to the podium, and when they lowered the lights and trained a spot on Camille, the bowls glittered behind her and I relaxed. It wouldn’t be long now.
Camille wore her hair pulled back off her face. Very elegant and not at all pretentious. Her dress probably came from a fancy designer—a bluish gray that changed tone ever so slightly when she moved. She announced the various prizes, handing each winner a small Waterford bowl and a live azalea. Iris Ledbetter won for best room design. Nolan applauded halfheartedly, not bothering to hide his disgust. Ted won for best landscape, and Natasha won in a miscellaneous category.
And then Camille heaved a tall Waterford vase to the top of the podium. I glanced at Natasha, who sat so straight her back almost arched. At the next table over, Iris grabbed Bedelia’s hand.
After a brief speech about the outstanding quality of the booths, Camille said, “And the winner of the coveted Best in Show award is Ted Wilcox of Leisure Landscapes for his magical glass cottage!”
Soft spotlights highlighted Ted’s house as applause broke out. It was positioned perfectly for everyone to admire, the little lights twinkling around the French doors. Ted jogged up to the podium, his arms in the air like Rocky. Smiling, he accepted the vase and azalea and air-kissed Camille.
But as the applause subsided, a titter spread through the audience. I followed their line of sight and realized that a waif-thin model type in a police uniform had staggered out the front door of the cottage. She paused on the little foot-bridge, swaying as though she was drunk, and for no reason that I could discern, the audience applauded again.
And then she toppled headfirst into the pond.
THIRTEEN
From “THE GOOD LIFE” :Dear Sophie,I’ve moved into my first apartment and I’m looking for art. I’m not allowed to paint the walls, which means I have to rely on art for color. I feel like I’m past the poster stage but I can’t afford original paintings. Any suggestions?—White Walls in White HallDear White Walls,Styrofoam. It’s the least expensive way to make instant art. Cover large sheets of styrofoam with gorgeous handmade blankets, quilts, fabric (from the sale bin), or even wallpaper. You’ll have fabulous original instant art of your own in any size, color, and style you like.—Sophie
Wolf and I reached the pond at the same time. Tara floated facedown, which couldn’t possibly be good. A pink tinge began to color the water.
Wolf plunged in, but I took a second to slip off my heels. The cold water barely came up to my knees. Wolf had already grabbed Tara under her arms and was trying to lift her. I hooked an arm underneath her, but with the weight of the water soaking her uniform, she might as well have been a whale.
“Flip.” We said it simultaneously and turned Tara onto her back, which enabled us to tug her to the side of the pond where Ted and Humphrey waited. They pulled her past Ted’s decorative rocks and tulips onto the concrete floor and began CPR.
I wished for the best, but held out little hope that they would be able to revive her. Wolf swapped places with Humphrey, and when he stood up, the knees of his suit bore dark splotches. I took a closer look. A puddle of rose-tinged water spread beneath Tara.
Posey, Mike, and a host of people I didn’t know took turns at CPR, and managed to keep it up until the rescue squad arrived. I looked on, water dripping from my dress, the concrete floor freezing my panty hose-clad feet.
“Dear Lord, is she dead?” asked Francie.
I looked up and found a very pale Nolan DuPont standing next to Francie. “I think so.”
Camille pushed between them. “Who is she?”
“Tara Borsos. She’s a cop.”
Nina wrapped a hotel blanket around me and held another. “Where’s Wolf ?”
I blinked at her, feeling dazed. Until that moment, I’d been in overdrive with adrenaline pumping through me. I tugged the blanket close, as if it would make the nightmare go away. How could this have happened? Tara had been so vibrant, so young. How could her life have ended so abruptly and horribly?
Camille pointed. “He’s with the other cops.”
“Other cops?” I looked for Wolf. He stood with a group of men and women near Tara, all of them dressed for dinner. “They’re all cops?”
Camille answered as if she were thinking about something else. “
Mmm-hmm.
They bought a whole table. Some cop’s wife exhibited cute stuff she sells in her store. Oh no,” she moaned. “I was hoping she’d had some kind of attack or was drunk, but there’s blood. This will be another black mark on Rooms and Blooms.”
Mmm-hmm.
They bought a whole table. Some cop’s wife exhibited cute stuff she sells in her store. Oh no,” she moaned. “I was hoping she’d had some kind of attack or was drunk, but there’s blood. This will be another black mark on Rooms and Blooms.”
“Really, Camille. Don’t you think about anything other than your precious Design Guild?” Nolan strode away, leaving Camille speechless.
Nina leaned so close that I could feel her breath on my ear. “It’s Kurt.”
Had she drunk too much wine? The body was clearly a woman’s. “No, it’s definitely Tara.”
“I mean Kurt did it,” she whispered. “This is spooking me. He’s here somewhere, probably lurking in a dark corner. Did you notice that he never sat down to dinner with Earl? And what’s worse, the cops won’t suspect him because they don’t even know he’s here.”
A shudder ran through me and I gazed around. Between the booths and the dark recesses of the cavernous hall, a killer could sneak about undetected. “Stop that!” I hissed. She was creeping me out. “Why would he want to murder Tara?” On the bright side, if she was right and Kurt was lurking somewhere, that would mean he wasn’t dead.
“Sophie!” Ted motioned to me. I skirted the EMTs but shivered when I got closer and realized he was speaking with Detective Kenner. The disagreeable homicide cop hated me.
“Sophie, would you please tell this detective that someone tried to sabotage my exhibit?”
I’d forgotten all about that. “You think there’s a connection between Tara’s death and the sabotage of your pond?”
“I don’t know, but don’t you think it’s odd that Tara walked out of my cottage?”
Kenner smirked at me, and suddenly I felt exposed and vulnerable. Kenner always reminded me of a hungry vulture ready to pounce. I avoided his cruel eyes and focused on Ted. “Yes. There’s no question that someone shot nails into the liner of Ted’s pond. I saw the nails when he removed them and patched the liner. Do you still have them, Ted?”
“Long gone, I’m afraid. But I’m glad I showed them to you. Who’d have thought I would need a witness?”
I avoided Kenner’s beady eyes. “I can readily confirm the sabotage. Excuse me.”
But as I moved away, Kenner stepped with me and caught my arm. In a low voice he said, “I’ve got you this time.”
I was forced to look into his menacing face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means your luck has finally run out. You had motive, opportunity, and, as soon as we know how she died, I expect you’ll have had the means, too.”
“That’s absurd.”
“Is it? Don’t think I didn’t notice you slip away during the dinner. Your doting Wolf won’t be able to bail you out of this mess.”
Too many thoughts ran through my head, and I was slow to pick up what he meant. “Motive?” I said it too loud, and a few people turned to look at us.
But the slime weasel grinned and turned his attention to Posey, who was staggering backward, away from the body. She flailed her arms as though she might lose her balance. In the process, she managed to back right into Humphrey. His eyes flicked wide, and he instinctively reached out to steady her. Posey turned around and sobbed into his shoulder. Humphrey tentatively patted her on the back, and I suspected I knew who his next object of desire would be.
In my haste to get away from Kenner, I’d come within feet of the EMTs and could hear their chatter about what had happened to Tara.
“The cops confirm smeared blood on the floor of the glass house,” said one.
Another ran his hand over his goatee. “Weird wound. They find any bullet casings?”
“Not yet. But it looks like she was injured inside the house and managed to find the strength to walk out.”
I got through the next two hours in a semi-daze. In spite of the heroic CPR efforts, no one was able to revive Tara. In short order Ted’s cute cottage had been roped off with yellow police tape. Eventually, the EMTs removed Tara’s body. They corralled the guests in the area where they had dined, but it was obvious that the numerous empty seats meant a lot of people had left in the chaos immediately after Tara’s death. From what I could tell, Earl, Iris, and Bedelia had departed.
The police wanted a list of everyone in attendance. I managed to find it and turned it over to Wolf, who didn’t even look at it. He passed it straight to Kenner, who took the podium and asked everyone to have a seat so the police could come around to question them.
Wolf sidled over to me and whispered in my ear, “Do you have a backup copy of the list?”
I nodded, and he drifted away.
Still wrapped in the blanket, I sat down at a table of my neighbors—Nina, Francie, Natasha, and Mars.
Natasha leaned toward me. In a low voice, she said, “Mars and I have seen Tara in our neighborhood a lot lately.”
That didn’t surprise me. “She’s been looking for a missing person for the last few days.”
“She’s been hanging around for weeks.” Mars loosened his tie. “I take Daisy out late sometimes, and I’ve seen Tara walking in the neighborhood.”
Francie scooted the gladiolus plant out of Natasha’s reach, no doubt so she could take it home with her.
Nina raised an eyebrow, and I suspected she was thinking about the night we saw a light in Mordecai’s house. Tara had turned up out of nowhere that evening.
Nina leaned back and motioned to Wolf. He strode over to our table, looking worried—not surprising, since the police took the murder of one of their own very seriously.
“How come Tara was on our block so much?” asked Nina.
Wolf’s forehead furrowed. “She was a patrol officer assigned to your sector. Tara was relatively new to the force, and I think she usually worked the night shift.”
Nina thanked him, and he ambled away.
I rested against the back of the chair. There were probably a lot of people who resented cops and might want her dead. On the few occasions when Wolf and I had gone out together, he’d insisted on sitting with his back to the wall so he could see what was going on and who came into the restaurant.
Of course, it didn’t help that Tara had died at the banquet. The people involved in Rooms and Blooms would surely be suspects—even if a total stranger had followed Tara in to kill her. I wished I’d paid more attention to her when she showed up looking for Wolf prior to the banquet. I hadn’t seen her leave, but then again, I wasn’t watching for her. She could have slipped out any number of ways without my noticing. But the fact that she still wore her uniform suggested that she’d never left the hotel. Maybe not even the convention hall. Where had she been all that time?
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