Flowers, Fish and Murder: A Rosie Ryan Cozy Mystery (Rosie Ryan Cozy Mysteries Book 4) by DC Pitt

Author:DC Pitt [Pitt, DC]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-07-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

‘So, how was last night’s art class?’ Nan asked as she sipped her morning tea.

‘It’s hard to put it into words,’ I said. ‘Something between awful and horrendous.’

‘That bad?’

‘Worse.’

I sipped my tea and gazed across the backyard where big eucalyptus trees frowned across the lawn. A crow gave a mournful cry from its position balanced on a side fence.

‘Kim’s quite a good artist,’ I told Nan. ‘Most of the others are good too. I seem to be the only klutz who can’t draw or paint. We were sketching a bust of Julius Caesar last night. My picture looked like he’d been run over by a bus.’

‘You can’t be perfect at everything.’

‘I’m not perfect at anything,’ I laughed. ‘But I try.’

My phone buzzed as a message appeared: Harry. I read through it—and groaned. ‘Harry wants me to check out a bin that was set alight yesterday,’ I said. ‘It was behind the Chinese restaurant.’

‘Vandalism?’

‘Looks that way.’ I shook my head. ‘This is a big step down from interviewing movie stars and celebrities.’

Nan gave a short laugh. ‘There’s a price for living in paradise.’

‘And what are you doing today?’

‘More outfits for the premmie babies. We’ve got a few hundred ready now.’

I took Nan’s hand. ‘Has anyone ever told you how fantastic you are?’ I asked.

Nan laughed. ‘Dave does all the time,’ she said. ‘He’s a good man.’

‘He’s got good taste,’ I told her.

I was already dressed for the day, so I finished my tea and headed off with Trixie. We drove down to William Street, where I parked. The Percy Street shops backed onto this street, and this whole stretch of road was an eyesore. The backyards of the shops were unsightly, with rubbish bins lining the street.

‘Not the prettiest spot in Cape Carson,’ I said to Trixie.

She barked.

After reaching the back of the Imperial Chinese restaurant, it only took a second to identify the vandalised bin. It lay in a molten mess beside the footpath. Robert Li, the owner, was taking empty boxes out the back. He gave me a wave and angled over.

‘Hey Rosie,’ he said. ‘You heard about our bin?’

‘Harry told me.’ I critically examined the pile of goo. ‘Did you see or hear anyone?’

‘No, and it wasn’t even dark. It’s usually drunks from the pub who think it’s funny setting bins alight.’

I inhaled. The fire was long gone, but I was sure I could smell kerosene. ‘This is a serious fire,’ I said. ‘What was in the bin?’

‘Cardboard waste.’

Poking among the debris, I found scraps of food boxes and old menus, although a few sheets of paper seemed to have escaped the blaze. ‘These are from a book,’ I said. ‘Did you throw any books away?’

Robert raised an eyebrow. ‘Rosie,’ he said. ‘Growing up in the Li household, burning books was a capital offence.’

I looked closely at a page and saw an abstract splash of colour.

What on Earth…

‘This is from the art centre,’ I muttered.

Robert peered over my shoulder. ‘Really?’

I explained the books had been stolen from the Cape Carson Art Centre.

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