Ready to Snap (Killer Shots Murder Mysteries Book 4) by Lisa B. Thomas

Author:Lisa B. Thomas
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Cozy Stuff and Such, LLC
Published: 2019-09-23T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Frank’s Framery sat at the corner of the square near my studio. I had given Frank some of my fine art prints to sell in his shop since he kept regular business hours. He displayed other local artists’ works too and sold our pieces on consignment. It was a win-win arrangement, as often is the case with businesses in small towns.

As I passed by, I noticed a well-heeled couple admiring a photograph in the shop window. It was one I had taken of the falls. I thought about stopping and introducing myself as the person who took the photograph but decided it would look like I was a starving artist selling my wares on the street. Although, if business didn’t pick up, that wasn’t such a bad idea.

Suddenly, Frank came barreling out of the store. “Wendy Fairmont! Just in time.”

I turned around and smiled. “Hi, Frank.”

“I’d like you to meet the Walcotts. They are interested in your photograph of Cascada Falls and were excited when I told them you were a local artist.” He waved his arm. “This is Wendy Fairmont.”

I was about to reach out my hand to shake when the couple simply nodded their heads at me.

“This is a fine photograph indeed,” Mr. Walcott said. “It’s almost like being there.”

I blushed. “Thank you. I wanted to show the—”

“What I’m curious about,” Mrs. Walcott said, interrupting me, “is exactly where that young lady was standing the other day when she fell? The one who was engaged to that singer. Was it up here, here, or somewhere else?” She pointed at the photograph as though it were a roadmap.

I didn’t know what to say.

Frank stepped up. “The area where she fell is called Lookout Ridge. There’s a park there.” He glanced at me, then back at the couple. “Anyone can see that spot, but what you won’t see is the majesty of the falls at dusk with the sun’s light glimmering off each drop of spray. It’s really a one-of-a-kind work of art.”

Mr. Walcott turned his back to the shop window. “Do you have a picture of that?”

I pointed across the square. “There’s some postcards at the souvenir shop on the other side of the library.”

The couple walked off in that direction.

Frank looked at me. “Sorry about that. I thought they were real customers.”

“No problem,” I said. “I guess it’s natural for people to be curious. And thanks for how you described my picture.”

“I meant it. You have real talent.”

I thanked him again and headed toward Nancy’s office. The Walcotts weren’t the only ones curious about how Cassie Nelson died. Dorinda was going to come clean with me no matter what. Either she was lying or Carly was lying. We’d see who passed the sniff test.

As I walked past the front window of the real estate office, I looked inside. Dorinda was in her usual spot at the front desk. I opened the door and went inside. Before even saying hello, I pulled up a chair opposite her desk. “Dorinda, I have to ask you a question and I want the truth.

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