Killer Art in the Park by Paula Darnell

Killer Art in the Park by Paula Darnell

Author:Paula Darnell [Paula Darnell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Campbell and Rogers Press
Published: 2023-09-07T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 27

"I’ll get in touch with Fred Wagner. He’s the money guy at Rich’s company. Officially, he’s the vice-president and the controller. If anyone knows what Rich had in mind, it’s Fred. A couple of days ago, he called, wanting to talk business, but I just wasn’t up to it, so we agreed to meet after Rich’s memorial service. I don’t know when that will be yet. The coroner hasn’t released Rich’s body.”

Tears began rolling down Pamela’s cheeks. I rushed to sit beside her and put my arm around her, as she sobbed on my shoulder. I wished I hadn’t had to involve her in my investigation, but there hadn’t been any alternative since Nate wasn’t able to help with any information about Rich’s business dealings.

After a minute or so, Pamela took a paper napkin from the tray Mrs. Bramble had brought in earlier and dabbed her tears.

“Sorry, Amanda.”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about, Pamela.”

“I still can’t believe he’s no longer with us. Sometimes, I think I hear his footsteps in the house after Mrs. Bramble’s gone home for the day. You must think I’m crazy.”

“Not at all, Pamela. You’ve suffered a huge loss.”

She sniffed and wiped her eyes again. “I know. I can’t seem to stop crying.”

“Don’t try. You need to let it out. It doesn’t do any good to keep your feelings all bottled up inside.”

“I know; you’re right, but what am I going to do?” she wailed. “I miss him so much.”

“Of course you do.”

“I don’t even know when I can have his memorial service. I guess I already told you that, though. I must be losing it.”

“Pamela, don’t worry about it. You have plenty to deal with.”

“And the gallery. I should go in today, shouldn’t I?”

“That’s not necessary. The gallery will be fine. Ralph’s keeping an eye on things, and he’s making sure it’s running smoothly.”

With a trembling hand, Pamela picked up her cup, leaving the saucer on the tray. Her coffee was surely cold by now, but she took a sip anyway. She was about to set it back when it slipped out of her hand, dropping onto its saucer and shattering both pieces of china.

She gave a little cry and started sobbing again.

“I’ll get it, Pamela.”

I retrieved a piece of the broken cup that had bounced onto the floor and set it back on the tray. I checked the carpet for any other shards, but I didn’t find any, so I picked up the tray and carried it into the kitchen.

Her back to me, Mrs. Bramble was standing at the sink and the water was running. Evidently she didn’t hear me come in because she jumped when I set the tray down on top of the island counter.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, turning around.

“Pamela’s pretty shaky,” I told her. “She dropped her cup.”

Mrs. Bramble looked at the remains of the porcelain cup and saucer and shook her head. “Too bad,” she murmured. She picked up the broken pieces of china, put them in a paper bag, and deposited them in her recycle bin.



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