Paint the Town Dead Page 4

  Maybelline motioned toward the front door with her cane. “I’m heading out for a walk. You’re welcome to come with me.”

  “I wish I could. I’m supposed to meet my mother at her booth soon.”

  An explosion of giggles directed their attention to a conversation area across the lobby where Gordon was sitting on a chair with a teenage girl on his lap. Rory guessed the young man wasn’t planning on returning to work anytime soon.

  Maybelline sighed and shook her head. “I saw a lot of kids like him when I was working. All could-care-less on the outside, but hurting deeply on the inside. I heard his father passed away recently.”

  Rory nodded. “Six months ago.”

  “Very sad, but that still doesn’t excuse his behavior.” Maybelline readjusted the hat on her head. “I’ll be off. Say hello to your mother for me,” she said before heading out into the sunshine.

  No sooner had the woman left when Liz and Veronica sat down in the empty chairs flanking Rory. She tore the plastic wrap off the box of chocolates Maybelline had given her and offered a Frango to each one of them.

  Veronica popped her chocolate in her mouth whole, while Liz nibbled on hers.

  “When are we supposed to help with the booth?” Liz said to Rory between bites.

  Rory checked the time once again. “We should leave in ten minutes or so.”

  Moments later, the automatic doors whooshed open. Liz glanced over at the hotel entrance. “Dashing D’s here,” she said in a low voice.

  “Where?” Rory asked.

  Liz nodded toward the sliding glass doors. “He just walked in.”

  Rory twisted around in her seat. Her heart skipped a beat when she caught sight of the muscular detective who stood nearby, his handsome face scanning the crowd.

  “Do you think there’s been a murder?” Veronica whispered in a tone of suppressed excitement.

  “I hope not.” Rory shuddered at the thought. She would be happy if she never saw another body in her life. Visions of arms sticking out of the dirt still plagued her dreams.

  The detective caught sight of the three of them and headed in their direction, whistling as he walked.

  “Ms. Anderson, Ms. Justice, Ms. Dexter,” he said.

  “I didn’t expect to see you at the convention,” Rory said.

  “Or is there a body?” Veronica withdrew a pen and small pad of paper from the large tote bag that served as her purse.

  The detective’s lips twitched. “Not that I know of. I just came to meet my girlfriend for coffee. She’s attending the convention.”

  An unexpected wave of disappointment washed over Rory.

  Liz looked at her friend in surprise and mouthed “girlfriend?” behind her hand so the detective wouldn’t see. Rory shrugged. In all her conversations with the man, he’d never mentioned a significant other. She doubted her mother knew either. Arika would never have suggested Rory call him if she knew he was taken.

  He nodded toward the hallway that led to the ballrooms. “There she is now. Let me go get her. I’ll introduce you.”

  The three watched as the man made his way over to a petite woman with delicate features and curly dark hair that framed her face. Rory felt gangly and uncoordinated as she watched the woman walk gracefully forward. The detective gave her a peck on the cheek before guiding her toward the group waiting to meet her. A pang of jealousy pierced Rory’s heart as they walked hand in hand across the lobby.

  “Melosia Ortega, meet Aurora, sorry, Rory, Anderson, Liz Dexter and Veronica Justice. Veronica’s a reporter for the View. Watch what you say around her.” He said the last jokingly, but his eyes betrayed his seriousness.

  Melosia shook each of their hands. “You can call me Mel. So nice to meet you. I understand you’re all attending the convention, too.”

  “Mel here has family in Riverside,” Detective Green said. “Maybe you know some of them, Rory.”

  Before Rory had a chance to reply, the detective’s girlfriend said, “It’s a big place. I’m sure she doesn’t know them.”

  “Have you two known each other long?” Liz asked.

  “For years, but we lost touch for a while.” Mel looked at her boyfriend as if asking permission to say more. “You could say this is the second time around for us.”

  Rory and Liz exchanged curious glances.

  Even though Rory itched to know why the two had broken up the first time, she opted for a less intrusive line of questioning. “Have you been painting long?”

  “I just started. Martin gave me a certificate for a class at Arika’s Scrap ’n Paint here in town and I got hooked. Do you know it?” Mel said.

  “That’s my mother’s store,” Rory said.

  “I love that place. I wasn’t sure I could handle classes here at the convention, but your mom thought I should give it a try.”

  So her mother had met the detective’s girlfriend, Rory thought. She put ask mom about Mel on top of her mental to-do list, then pushed the thought to the back of her brain. “The important thing is to enjoy yourself. It’s not a contest. You’ll do fine. What classes are you taking?” She studied the class list Mel handed her. “Liz, she’s taking your strokework class tomorrow.”

  “Good,” Liz said. “Rory’s helping out so we’ll both be there. We’ll make sure you know what’s going on.”

  Rory’s cell phone quacked, reminding her it was time to head to the trade show floor. “Sorry, we’ve got to go. Nice meeting you, Mel. See you later, Detective, Veronica.”

  Uncharacteristically silent during the conversation, Veronica now whipped out her notepad and began grilling Detective Green’s girlfriend as Rory and Liz walked down the hallway leading to the ballrooms.

  When the two young women arrived at the space reserved for Arika’s Scrap ’n Paint, Rory’s mother was taping the booth diagram to the open-shelving unit positioned across its front. Forty booths, selling painting supplies and other items of interest to decorative painters, filled the Hermosa ballroom floor. The Scrap ’n Paint booth was located halfway down the first aisle of the trade show floor in direct line of sight of the entrance.

  Rory’s gaze swept the double-sized booth from the interlocking foam tiles in a checkerboard pattern of blue and black that covered the floor to the tables and racks lining the edges. “Looks like you have all the display cases set up. What do you want us to do?”

  “Start with the pattern packets. They’re over there.” Arika gestured toward a cluster of cardboard boxes at the back of the booth.

  Before she started working, Rory drew her mother aside so Liz couldn’t hear. In a low voice, she said, “I met Detective Green’s girlfriend just now. Did you know?”

  “Yes. Melosia. Lovely girl. Very promising painter.”

  “If you knew, why did you tell me to call him?”

  “You misunderstood me. I never said you should go out with him. I just thought you could be friends. Never hurts to have one on the police force.” Arika raised her voice so Liz could hear. “I’m missing some supplies. You girls put together what you can. I’m going to find Nixie and see if she knows where they are.”

  Liz set to work hanging the pattern packets on wire racks while Rory sat on the padded floor and unpacked a box. They’d finished setting up half the booth when a wave of excitement rippled across the trade show floor. Muted cries of “she’s here” preceded a flamboyantly dressed woman, at least six feet tall, as she swept inside the door and down the aisle. In her red cape and spiked heels, she looked more like she belonged on a runway than on the trade show floor. She waved and smiled at everyone she passed. Everything about her seemed perfect: perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect makeup.

  Rory tugged self-consciously on the t-shirt and jeans she was wearing. “Viveca’s here.” She pointed toward the woman who was entering the VivEco booth across the aisle.

  “She’s so beautiful. That’s an Armani cape she’s wearing. Cost a bundle.” Liz looked wistfully at the woman. “Wish I’d remembered to bring that
pattern book for her to sign.”

  “You’ll get a chance at the meet and greet. Who’s that with her?” Rory nodded to the slim gray-haired man in a white short-sleeved shirt and black pants who was helping Viveca Forster off with her cape.

  “Her new husband, I think.”

  “He seems a bit...”

  “...older? About twenty years, from what I hear.”

  “Do you want to meet her? I’ll introduce you.”

  Liz could barely contain her excitement as Rory led the way across the aisle. Wearing a sleeveless dress that hugged her figure and accentuated her long legs, Viveca stood next to a table, studying a piece of paper, while her husband unpacked a box on the other side of the booth.

  “Ms. Ca...sorry, Forster? I don’t know if you remember me, but we met years ago. I’m a friend of Jasmine’s. Rory Anderson.”

  The statuesque blonde in five-inch heels frowned for a moment as if she were having trouble placing the name, then her face cleared.

  “Of course, Aurora. It’s been years! And please, call me Viveca.” She held Rory gently by the shoulders and studied her. “Let me look at you. So tall, and such beautiful eyes. You haven’t changed a bit.” She frowned. “Except...what happened to that lovely blonde hair you used to have? This mousy brown color isn’t nearly as becoming.”

  Rory didn’t want to explain to the woman how tired she was of dumb blonde jokes and how people treated her more seriously as a brunette, important in the male-dominated field she was in. Instead, she introduced Viveca to her friend who was grinning from ear to ear.

  Liz’s words tumbled out. “I’m a huge fan of yours! I have all of your old pattern books. I was so happy to hear you’d be here.”

  “That’s very kind of you. I appreciate it. Always happy to hear from a fan, especially since I’ve been out of the business for over a decade.” Viveca plucked a brochure out of a nearby box. “I’ll be giving a series of seminars in the fall. I hope you’ll consider attending.”

  Liz eagerly took the brochure, looking as if the woman had handed her the keys to a multi-million dollar home.

  Viveca turned to Rory and said, “Tell me what you’ve been up to recently.”

  Jasmine’s aunt nodded her head and smiled as Rory briefly told the woman what she’d been doing since high school. When Rory mentioned her freelance programming business, Viveca glanced at the young woman’s clothes as if to say “that explains the casual attire.”

  “It’s nice to see you both. So glad to meet you, Liz. Don’t forget about those seminars I’m teaching. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must get back to work.” Viveca picked up the piece of paper she’d been looking at earlier and frowned. “Maybe you can help me with something. We’re missing some boxes. Were they delivered to your booth by mistake?”

  “I don’t think so, but let me check,” Rory said.

  The three of them examined every unpacked box in the Scrap ’n Paint booth, finally coming across one in the far corner that belonged to VivEco.

  Viveca tut-tutted. “This convention is not as well-run as the ones I attended years ago.” She raised her voice, directing her attention toward the booth across the way. “Hully! I found one of them, but the other’s still missing. You’ll have to go looking for it.” She headed back to her own booth. Glancing over her shoulder, she said, “Could you bring that over here, Aurora?” She pointed an elegant finger with a long nail covered in crimson polish at an empty table.

  Rory hauled the box across the aisle and placed it in the designated spot.

  “Hully, this is Jasmine’s friend, Aurora. They went to school together. Aurora, this is my husband, Hulbert.”

  Hulbert Forster shook Rory’s hand. “Any friend of Jasmine’s is a friend of mine.” He glanced across the aisle at the Scrap ’n Paint booth. “Aurora, I don’t recall seeing your store on our client list. Perhaps you’ll consider stocking our products.”

  Before she could explain she wasn’t responsible for store purchases, he handed her a product brochure and business card. Rory took the proffered items and promised to give them to her mother when she returned.

  “I’m going to see if I can find that other box.” Hulbert laid the clipboard down and headed out on his quest.

  After a few more minutes of chit-chat, Rory crossed the aisle once again and started helping Liz put two-ounce bottles of acrylic paint in a wire rack. They were shoving the last of the boxes under a table when Nixie and Arika approached the booth. Steps behind them, a burly young man wheeled a dolly with two boxes on it.

  “You found them,” Rory said. “Where were they?”

  “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience,” the convention organizer said. “They were on the loading dock. Someone had mixed them in with hotel supplies. Where would you like us to put them?”

  Arika pointed to a spot on the floor near the small table set up as a cashier’s station. The young man unloaded the boxes and, after a nod of dismissal from Nixie, headed out the entrance with his dolly.

  “I’m beginning to regret having the convention here,” Nixie said. “It’s been nothing but problems. Granted, this is my first time putting together a painting convention, but not all the issues have been mine. I’m much better organized than the hotel is. And did you hear? The hotel event coordinator up and quit. Just like that. Couldn’t deal with all of the controversy surrounding the Akaw. Very unprofessional, if you ask me. In my old job, I would never have done that, no matter how I felt. Still, they did give me a good deal. What’s that old adage? You get what you pay for.”

  Nixie drew a pad of paper and a diagram of the layout of the trade show floor out of her jacket pocket. She took a deep breath as if gearing herself up for the task ahead. “Well, I’d better get to it. I have my cell on. If you have any more problems, text me.” She squared her shoulders and headed down the aisle.

  Arika surveyed the booth. “This is shaping up nicely. You girls have done a great job.”

  Rory’s cell phone quacked, telling her it was time to leave for the special event she and Liz had signed up for. “I hate to go, but we’ve got a class. Unless you need us to stay...?”

  Arika gestured with her hands in a shooing motion. “Go, both of you, have fun. I could use your help tonight, though.”

  “I’ll be here.” Rory was looking forward to working at the booth during the early shopping opportunity from six to nine that evening when those already registered for the convention could shop before the trade show floor officially opened to the public the next day.

  Talking excitedly about the class they were about to attend, Rory and Liz slung their tote bags full of supplies over their shoulders and headed out the ballroom door.

  Chapter 4

  Between the special event and working at the Scrap ’n Paint booth, the rest of Tuesday flew by. Rory tumbled into bed that evening exhausted but happy. The excitement of the day had banished all thoughts from her head of the rock that crashed through her window and the threatening note attached to it.

  The next day, when Rory entered the Zuma ballroom twenty minutes before Liz’s class was scheduled to begin, half of the thirty spaces were already filled. Six long tables covered with white plastic tablecloths were set up in two columns, chairs facing the front where Liz stood talking with one of the students. The room buzzed with excitement as convention attendees set up their workspaces and waited for the basic strokework class to begin.

  A puzzled look on her face, Jasmine sat in the back row, her painting supplies spread out before her. Painted on a roller bag that sat at her feet were the word “Jaz” and the star-shaped flowers the woman was named after.

  As soon as she spotted her friend, Rory walked over to say hi. “Everything okay?”

  Her long hair hid her face as Jasmine stuffed a yellow folder into her bag. “Nothing that can’t wait. Do you have time to talk later?”

  “Sure, after class.” Rory looked to the front of the classroom where Liz was unpacking the boxes of supplies recently delivered
to the room. “I’d better go and help set up. Catch you later.”

  Rory spent the next ten minutes distributing bottles of paint, heart-shaped wood pieces, and plastic sleeves filled with instructions to each student while Liz tested out the projection system she planned on using. Mel soon arrived and settled down in the only spot left in the front row.

  When all of the students were seated and Rory had picked up all the class tickets, Liz began teaching, starting by going over the rudiments of the comma stroke.

  “Take out your number eight round brush.” She held the brush in the air so everyone could see and reviewed the proper way to load paint. “We’re going to practice the strokes before we apply them to the wood. Each of you should have tracing paper to practice on. For a comma stroke, push down and come up on the tip. Push down and come up on the tip.” Liz demonstrated as she talked.

  Rory was walking around, seeing if anyone needed any help, when a loud ringing accompanied by a series of shrill beeps shook the air, the harsh sounds reverberating throughout the ballroom.

  Everyone in the class stopped what they were doing and looked up as the fire alarm continued to sound.

  “Okay, everyone,” Liz said loud enough she could be heard above the ringing of the alarm. “Stay calm and go out the nearest exit. Leave your supplies at your place. They’ll be safe here in the room.”

  Rory helped usher everyone out the door, joining the throng heading toward the hotel entrance where Detective Green stood, making sure everyone left the building in an orderly fashion. Off to one side of the lobby, Ian gave orders to his staff. When Rory and Liz passed by the front desk, they heard the clerk talking on the phone in a calm voice. “...front desk calling. The fire alarm is sounding at this time. It’s not known the exact extent of the emergency. However...”

  They were almost at the exit when Rory spotted Veronica hiding behind a pillar near the hotel manager, taking notes. She motioned for Veronica to follow them toward the door, but the reporter shook her head, indicating she planned on staying where she was.