Art of Death by Bob Appavu

Author:Bob Appavu [Appavu, Bob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery
ISBN: 978-1-64405-241-9
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2019-05-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

IT WAS Riley’s second time wearing his all-black outfit in only a few months. But fortunately, now it was November, and the air had cooled enough that he probably would have chosen long sleeves regardless. He was doing something he never thought he’d resort to doing: kneeling in the bushes.

Coliaro’s studio had large windows on every side, but they looked like they were blocked off. Riley couldn’t tell if the lights were on or if the building was occupied. All he knew was there was no car in the driveway. He himself had left his car several blocks away, in the midst of a group of other vehicles parallel-parked outside a nearby movie theater. He’d also left his cell phone behind. The cheap thing liked to ring even when it was on silent mode, and Riley couldn’t trust it to keep quiet. But he’d texted Porter one last time before leaving his car. If I don’t text back by 8pm, assume something went wrong.

If something did indeed go wrong, it would be up to Porter to decide what to do. He was already attempting to hunt down Westwood regardless.

Riley crawled a foot over to get a better view. As he moved, he was all too aware of the weight at his right hip. Nick’s gun. When Nick had first moved to Sarasota, he’d taken Riley to the range several times to teach him how to shoot. As much as Riley hated the jarring, destructive effects of shooting a firearm, he was an unexpectedly good shot. He doubted a gun would keep an undead down for long, but it was better than nothing.

The studio was within walking distance of Coliaro’s house. Riley couldn’t imagine him taking his car for a visit to his studio. There really was no way to tell if Coliaro or his model were inside. Coliaro had boasted about his excellent security system, but Riley had a feeling that had been a lie designed to ease his mind when he was hesitant about coming over.

A large palm tree butted up against the side of the studio. Crouching low, Riley dashed out from around the side of the bushes, moving swiftly but quietly toward the tree. Pressing his back against its thick trunk, he looked in both directions. There was no hint of life around him. No intruder alert, no blaring horns or flashing lights. He dashed up to the outer wall of the studio and pressed his back against the brick.

When he glanced toward the next window, something caught his eye. He hadn’t been able to tell from a distance, but now that he was close, he saw that it was open. The smell of paint thinner wafted out. He wondered if Coliaro was airing out the studio. This lone window was not blocked from the inside, and indeed, the interior was dark.

He stood still for a moment, waiting for any hint of movement inside the building. When he was sure there was nothing, he raised his head and peered inside.

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