[15] Throw in the Trowel by Kate Collins

Author:Kate Collins
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-02-03T16:00:00+00:00

My spindle was so full that in the next four hours Lottie and I put together over forty arrangements. We were floral machines. And because we were so busy in the back, Francesca was kept occupied up front. So in a way, even Marco’s mom improved my day.

Although I wasn’t exactly looking forward to my dog-sitting duties, the only real cloud on the horizon was my forthcoming talk with Tara. Since Marco had impressed upon me the importance of her not seeing Haydn, I kept picturing a crazed Doug holding her prisoner until we swore to drop our investigation long enough for him to escape to Mexico. That was just the way my mind worked. I’d always been cursed with an overactive imagination.

I didn’t discuss Tara with Lottie and Grace, however. I informed them only about our interview with Doug and let it go at that.

At noon, Marco, Seedy, and I made the trip to Tenth Street, located about a mile inside the northern edge of the New Chapel town limits. Parthenia’s studio was housed in a small, two-story white frame building with black trim that had once been a grocery store. According to my mom’s information, Parthenia’s gallery and workshop took up the main floor, and she lived on the second floor in an apartment she’d designed herself.

“What’s our strategy?” I asked Marco, as we parked at the curb in front.

“From what I could gather, the Duchess is exceedingly egotistical, so we’re going to have to lay on the charm if we want her cooperation.”

“Then it’s all yours, Marco. I know what the Salvare magic does to women.”

“I don’t know about that,” he said, trying to appear modest.

“Yes, you do. I’ll just stand back and let you do your thing. And on a side note, would you check with me before accepting your mom’s dinner invitations, please?”

“I didn’t think it’d be nice to turn her down after all the help she’s giving you.”

I poked him gently in the ribs. “Marriage, Salvare. It’s all about communication and teamwork.”

“Gotcha.”

I put Seedy on her leash and we walked toward the black-framed glass door. We passed a bike rack with one bike in it that was decorated with glossy black-and-white polka dots. Next to the door was a large plate glass window where Parthenia displayed a dozen of her sculptures. A hand-lettered sign in the window said: INQUIRE ABOUT ART CLASSES WITHIN.

There was an OPEN sign on the door, so we entered to the soft tinkling of wind chimes. Since no one was in the shop, we wandered around looking at the artwork. Seedy stuck close to me. Unfamiliar environments made her nervous.

“The Duchess likes black and white,” I whispered to Marco, pointing out a row of tall, glossy clocks sitting on a long console against one wall. Some were in black-and-white stripes, some in checks, some in plaids, and all of their bodies curved into an elongated S shape, appearing as though they were swaying in the breeze. “I’ll bet that bike out front is hers, too.

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