Northwest Cozy Mysteries #1 Read online

  “See you next week?” DeeDee asked when Roz lifted her head.

  “Sure,” Roz said with a soft smile. “Good luck, Sis.”

  DeeDee watched as Roz walked over to her shiny sports car convertible, grateful she could count on her. Roz jumped in and sped off with a beep of the horn and a backward wave.

  ***

  She stood on the porch waiting for the movers to pack the last of the furniture she was taking to Bainbridge into their moving van. When it was loaded, the driver handed her a slip to sign.

  “Thank you,” DeeDee smiled at the man. “See you at the ferry. I’ll be right behind you.” She tipped him with a twenty-dollar bill.

  The man grinned and nodded. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  As the van drove off, DeeDee swung the heavy front door of the house shut for the last time. She’d told the real estate agent he would find the keys under the front door mat. DeeDee turned around and said a silent goodbye to her home of the last twenty-four years. It stood defiant, empty, and majestic, waiting for its new owners and the start of a new family saga.

  She put the dollhouse and Pickasaurus into the trunk of her SUV, and then sat in the driver’s seat for a few moments with the engine running. Now that the sale was behind her and the time had come to move to Bainbridge Island, she felt lighter. She put the car in drive, and for the first time since Lyle had told her he was leaving, she felt she was headed in the right direction. For the last time, she heard the familiar sound of her tires on the driveway bricks as she slowly drove away, followed by the creak of the automatic gates closing behind her.

  CHAPTER 3

  DeeDee arrived at the ferry terminal just as the cars started to board and took a position at the end of the line. She saw the moving van, containing all of the furniture for her new home, further ahead in the line. The main items of sentimental value, that she would never trust to movers, were loaded in her SUV. Delicate antique Christmas ornaments, photograph albums, two suitcases of clothes, and the things from her children’s childhood she couldn’t part with had been carefully placed in the back seat. Apart from the clothes, they were the things she would have grabbed if her house was on fire.

  At forty-nine years of age, DeeDee was uncertain whether the fact that all of her worldly goods fit in a car and a small moving van was anything to boast about or not. Overall, considering the large house she’d just left, with every room filled to the ceiling with “stuff”, it was liberating. When she felt uncertain about the future, she truly appreciated the fact that her real needs were taken care of. She was in good health, her family and loved ones were safe and well, and she wasn’t going to be without food to eat or a roof over her head. The new roof may be smaller, but it was a pretty nice one just the same.

  The line of traffic waiting to board the ferry snaked along slowly, and DeeDee was relieved when her SUV was one of the last vehicles allowed to board. She could have waited for the next ferry, but she wanted to be on the same one as the moving van. They were a reputable company, and she was sure her belongings were safe, but she still felt better having the van within view. After DeeDee parked her SUV she walked up the stairs to the upper deck. She pulled her jacket around her shoulders. A light rain was falling, and the air was turning cold as dark clouds began to gather over Puget Sound, signaling an approaching storm.

  From her vantage point on the upper deck, DeeDee watched as the ferry motored into the Sound and the distance between the skyline of Seattle and the ship increased. There was no turning back now.

  Children were playing on the deck, and DeeDee patted a yellow Labrador that stood panting beside her with its head poking through the railing. Its tongue was hanging out, trying to catch the spray from the water far below. Its owner yanked on the dog’s leash every now and then discouraging it from thinking about taking a dive into the water far below.

  “You’re a handsome boy,” DeeDee said, feeling the warmth of the dog’s coat, which made her miss Setanta.

  “He loves the ferry crossing,” the dog’s owner said over the sound of the engines. “He’d ride the ferry all day if I let him. Sometimes we take a return trip just for a treat. Makes him feel like we’re going on vacation.”

  “I know the feeling,” DeeDee said. “I feel like I’m going on vacation myself. Except… I’m not.”

  “Do you live on the island?” the woman asked DeeDee.

  DeeDee almost shook her head, then checked herself. “No, yes, well I guess I do. I’m actually just moving there. That’s my stuff in the van down there.” DeeDee nodded towards the moving van parked below.

  “Pleased to meet you.” The woman’s face broke into a smile, as she extended her hand to DeeDee. “I’m Tammy Lynn. I’ve been living on Bainbridge my whole life. You’ll love it there, and this is Buddy.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Buddy,” DeeDee said, nodding at the dog. “and you too, Tammy. I’m DeeDee Wilson,” she said. “And I hope you’re right about me loving Bainbridge, because I don’t have anywhere else to go. My parents lived there, and we visited them often. I’m moving into their old place. It’s going to be quite a change for me…” DeeDee said, hesitating, reluctant to reveal too much of her story to a complete stranger, but the woman seemed friendly, and as a mutual dog lover, DeeDee had a good feeling about her, “but a good change, I think.”

  “Are you retiring there? Oh, I do apologize.” Tammy’s hand flew up to her mouth. “Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to imply that you look old or anything. Me and my big mouth.”

  DeeDee laughed. Even though her divorce settlement was generous, and she did get quite a bit of money when she and Lyle liquidated their joint assets, it wasn’t enough for her to live on for the rest of her life, unless she wanted to spend her old age eating ramen noodles. She’d given both Mitch and Tink a lump sum of money, which had been enough to help them pay off their student loans and have a little left over. She figured they could make better use of it now while they were young, instead of waiting until she was dead, when there might not be any money left. Given these circumstances, she knew without a doubt she was going to have to do something to earn a living.

  “Oh, no problem. I’m not retired, in fact I want to keep myself busy.” DeeDee faltered, then she blurted out, “I’m starting my own business. Actually, you’re the first person I’ve told.”

  “No pressure then.” Tammy laughed. “If you don’t mind me asking, what do you do?”

  “Not at all,” DeeDee said. “It’s a, um, catering business.” She waited for Tammy’s reaction. Now it was out there, but Tammy didn’t look as if DeeDee had said anything crazy at all. Tammy accepted it like it was the most normal thing in the world.

  Professional catering was something DeeDee had often thought about, as she and Lyle had entertained his business clients and friends once or twice a week for years. She was a talented cook, and she enjoyed planning menus, finding the best ingredients, decorating the table, and loved the whole process of preparing the food. Of course, when Lyle had gotten so busy at work, which in hindsight DeeDee suspected coincided with the start of his trysts with Ariana, the entertaining was something that was let go. But talking to Tammy, it seemed like her mind had made itself up, and her business idea had taken on a life of its own.

  “That sounds fantastic,” Tammy said. “I might be able to help you. Call me at my coffee shop when you get settled, okay?” By now the ferry had docked, and Tammy and Buddy were headed toward the steps leading to the lower level.

  “Where will I find you?” DeeDee called after them, and Tammy turned and smiled. “You can’t miss the place. You’ll know it when you see it,” and with that she was gone.

  Back in her car, just as she’d been one of the last vehicles to get on the ferry, DeeDee’s car was one of the last cars to make it down the exit ramp. She followed the line of cars into the town center and then drove to her new home.

  The three-bedroom house was high on a hill overlooking Puget Sound. It was much smaller than the house she�
��d lived in on Mercer Island, but most houses were. Even so, it was certainly big enough for just DeeDee, with enough extra room when Mitch and Tink and Roz came to visit her. The first story consisted of a large great room, which made the house seem bigger than it was, and included the living, dining, and kitchen areas blended into one bright, airy space with large windows overlooking the Sound. Her favorite part of the whole house was the open deck located at the front of the house which overlooked the waters of Puget Sound.

  So what if the decor was a little tired looking and could do with some freshening up? Considering that the house had been empty for five years since her father had died, everything was still comfortable and functional. There would be plenty of time in the future for remodeling. For now, it suited DeeDee just fine. The movers carried her furniture inside, and DeeDee instructed them where to place the larger items. She knew she’d have plenty of time to arrange the smaller things in the next few days.

  When the moving van drove away, DeeDee realized how exhausted she was. She’d been running on adrenalin all week. Outside, the storm had picked up, and the ominous boom of thunder sounded in the distance, while flashes of lightning cracked across the sky, which was highly unusual for a Seattle storm. She had the can of soup and some crackers she’d brought with her for dinner and decided to call it a night. Lying in bed, she remembered reading several years earlier that Money magazine had named Bainbridge Island as the second-best place to live in the United States. She wasn’t sure what the number one spot had been, but she was glad the island had fared so well.

  At least I’ll be living in a place of distinction, even if I have no idea what the future holds, she thought while she scooted herself deeper down under the blankets. The rain pelted the window panes so hard she was worried they’d shatter, and the sky sounded like it was about to fall in on top of her. I could be dead for weeks and no one would find me.”

  Although she was not a woman who was usually afraid of storms, DeeDee realized she’d never been alone during one in her entire life. As a child, her parents were always around. As an adult, Lyle or the children were in the house with her, and she had the added bonus of their dog, Setanta, to protect her.

  She sensed she was about to make an important decision, and she wanted to be alert and fully awake. DeeDee slipped out of bed and walked to the bathroom to splash water on her face. Staring back at her from the mirror was an attractive woman, still youthful, with hope in her eyes. She knew she had a few lines on her face, but they told the story of her life, and really, it hadn’t been a bad one. She ran her fingers through her hair and noticed some gray at the temples, which, given the last few months, didn’t surprise her. Another crack of thunder made her jump.

  “Okay, that’s it,” DeeDee said to the woman in the mirror as she made a momentous decision. It was her life, and she had no one to answer to. The future really was a blank canvas. “I’m getting a dog. I don’t want to go through another night like this one by myself.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Tweaking his handlebar mustache between his thumb and index finger, Bernard Metz surveyed the gallery below through the glass wall of his office on the mezzanine above it. It gave him a bird’s eye view of his kingdom, the Undercover Art Gallery in downtown Seattle. Polished light wood parquet floors sparkled against the pristine white walls, and the room was flooded with light from the row of modular skylights above it.

  Contemporary paintings of the Northwest adorned the walls, a riot of color against the neutral backdrop. Encased in translucent columns throughout the space were a variety of the exquisite art glass pieces for which the Undercover Art Gallery was best known. When people thought of art glass, Bernard wanted Undercover Art to be the first name on their lips.

  Bernard had already completed his daily morning tour of the gallery, barking orders at his staff. A ricochet of commands sent his minions scurrying like mice in different directions trying to appease him.

  “Dust!” He would point at the offending spot before stalking off, the clip of his Italian leather-soled shoes echoing across the parquet floor. “What part of shiny do you people not understand? I want my gallery to sparkle!” The workers knew his daily rampage was over when he called out his last, and favorite command, before stomping back up the stairs to his office. “COFFEE!!”

  Bernard’s bark was worse than his bite, a sign of his own insecurity. When things were going well, he was the personification of charm. No one would ever accuse Bernard of being lazy. He set high standards, and he expected the same from his staff. He hadn’t gotten to where he was without a lot of hard work. The son of first-generation immigrant parents, he’d put himself through college by working three jobs.

  He’d apprenticed with the best galleries on the West Coast before personally calling hundreds of potential investors until he’d been able to raise enough funds to open his own gallery in Seattle. Then he began to woo his chosen artists, one by one. The room below was empty except for a security guard and one of his employees, the rest of them in the office next to the exhibition room, but it wasn’t an unusual scene. Bernard knew there was a real threat that everything he’d worked for was in danger of imploding.

  “That can’t be right!” he’d said as he slammed his fist on his desk when his accountant had shown him the figures for the last quarter.

  “I’m afraid it is, Bernard. Foot traffic is down twenty per cent from last year, and the commissions from sales have fallen through the floor. The only positive thing is that the sales in the gift shop are up, but they’re just a drop in the bucket to what’s needed to keep the gallery open. You need a big exhibition, a huge draw to get people talking about the gallery, and hope that the crowds will follow.”

  Bernard looked at the man like he had two heads. He stretched his arm across the table where they were seated and pointed at his accountant. “Are you trying to tell me how to do my job? I was having sellout exhibitions when you were in diapers. Get out of my office.” Bernard’s New York accent was very apparent when he was highly stressed, and this was definitely one of those times.

  A buzzing sound from his desk caused him to turn around. He saw the light blinking on his phone. Walking across the room, he pressed the button. “Yes, Martha?” Bernard said.

  “Marlene Palmer is here to see you, sir.”

  “Send her up.”

  Bernard sucked in his stomach and hiked up the waistband of the custom-made pants he had tailored in Paris. He thought it perfectly normal that a man in his position in the art world should have his pants made and flown in from Europe. He straightened his jacket and bow tie and opened the door when he heard the knock.

  “Marlene, Marlene. It’s wonderful to see you. It’s been too long.”

  Marlene floated in on a cloud of perfume. She extended her arms and placed one on each of Bernard’s shoulders, appraising him, before kissing the air on either side of his face.

  “Darling,” Marlene said. “I was so glad to get your call. I have been meaning to pop in anyway. You said you need a favor. Of course, you know I’ll be happy to help in any way I can.”

  Bernard led Marlene over to the sofa and chairs in the corner of his office.

  “May I get you some coffee, Marlene, or perhaps you’d prefer a glass of wine?” Bernard’s cabinet was well-stocked, and he put it to regular use.

  Marlene laughed. “You know me so well, dear, but it’s too early for wine, and I never drink coffee.” She grimaced. “It’s the devil’s drink. Now what’s going on, Bernard?”

  Bernard relaxed in his chair. He liked and admired Marlene. The two of them went back years, and he knew he had to be honest with her. Marlene tolerated nothing less.

  “It’s Lisa Sanders,” Bernard said, leaning closer to Marlene with his elbows on his knees. “She won’t take my calls. Ever since she signed up Dale Chihuly to an exclusive deal six months ago, my business has tanked. I just want to speak to the woman, Marlene, and see if we can work something out. Everyone knows she listens to you
. Is there anything you can do?”

  Marlene paused before replying. “I think, Bernard, you may want to consider a different approach. Lisa is young and headstrong, and her reputation is growing. She’s making quite a name for herself and the Pioneer Art Gallery. Right now, she thinks she’s invincible, and that she can make it by herself, but she’ll learn. I’m sorry, but this isn’t something I can get involved in, Bernard.”

  Bernard buried his face in his hands. When he continued, the real Bernard was laid bare. His eyes were shining.

  “Marlene, you’re Lisa’s mentor. You’ve trained her well, just like you trained me all those years ago. I’m begging you, Marlene. Without your help, The Undercover Gallery is going to have to close. I’ve offered to go into partnership with her and merge our two galleries, but now her security guards won’t even let me on the premises.”

  “Is there a personal element in this, Bernard?” Marlene asked, raising an eyebrow, “because I hear that’s not the only kind of offer you’ve been making to Lisa.”

  Bernard gave an embarrassed shrug. “She’s a very attractive young woman, so maybe I did ask her out for dinner. Can you blame me? I think we would make a great team. We could consolidate our assets, so to speak.”

  Marlene pursed her lips. “Look, Bernard. Asking a woman half your age out for dinner is one thing, but stalking her with flowers and phone calls is another. A man in your position should know better. That aside, Lisa needs to find her own way. She’ll learn from her own mistakes, if that’s what they are, but I do believe in the benefits of mutual co-operation, which is why I have a proposition for you.”

  Bernard’s ears perked up. “Shoot.”

  “The Arts Council has offered to provide funding for a Northwest Art Collaborative. I’m in the process of getting all of the city’s galleries on board. We’re talking new artists, joint events, reciprocal admissions, high profile media coverage, you know, that type of thing. It will be hyped up to the eyeballs. The marketing budget alone is enough to make all of us healthy. Are you in?”