Page 19 of The Aura Answer
He didn’t know what made him say that. Being helpful should have its limits.
The old man scowled as he carried brushes and scrapers to the counter. “Arthur Block was a good man, did a lot for this town. Can’t think that bullet was meant for him. Now shooting those damned reporters makes sense.”
“Interesting.” Nick set his cans down. “The shooter wanted to stop the press from filming Mr. Block’s speech?”
Hank crankily waved a dismissive hand. “Nah, just an old man complaining. Arthur was a good friend. I hope they catch the bastard that did it. Wouldn’t put it past shifty Larry to arrange a contract killer to keep Arthur from getting his job back.”
Assuming “shifty Larry” was the current mayor, Nick thought this scenario unlikely, but he didn’t know American politics. “Or the killer might have been aiming for Mayor Ward. Or the sheriff or maybe even a judge. It’s unsettling to know there’s a killer in our midst.”
Hank rang up the sale on an old-fashioned manual cash register that clanged when it totaled. “Huh. Hadn’t thought about that. Might even have been after me or someone else onthe council. We was all there. But they’d have to have been a lousy shot.”
“Stumbling over a dead man might upset even murderers.” Nick pulled out his wallet and sorted through the unfamiliar bills. “Put any man off his shot.”
Hank snorted and counted the cash as he put it in the drawer. “Young folk these days want everything right now. Told Albert I couldn’t give him credit for that big frame he wanted. Maybe if I’d not been so tough, he’d not have OD’d.” He sounded a little sad.
Albert? The dead artist? Uneasily, Nick distracted the store owner from his morbid fantasies. “You sell frames? And supplies?”
Hank yanked back from his morose speculation. “Back right corner. Small town. Got to have a little of ever’thing or customers drive to the big box stores in the city. Once that happens, they never come back, and the whole town dies.”
“That would be a shame.” Nick put his change in his pocket and hefted the shopping bag. “I’m rather enjoying walking about instead of sitting in traffic.”
Hank nodded absently. “Tell Evie I’ll frame that picture of Albert’s for his family if they bring it in here. Won’t charge them nothing but materials. They’re good people. They don’t deserve what happened.”
“Picture of Albert’s? Did you see it?” He’d listened in on enough of the discussion to know the artist had been planning a surprise for his family.
“Nah, he just told me about it. Figured it must have been with his stuff somewhere. He was right proud of it.”
The square man wearing cowboy boots Nick remembered from yesterday slammed open the front door, causing the old-fashioned bell to jangle. “Hank, we gotta do something about that freak mayor, or I’ll have done all this planning for nothing.Can’t you talk to the rest of them and fix that zoning so I can at least get started?”
Hank turned his attention to the newcomer and Nick hurried out. Small towns could be just a little too claustrophobic. Everyone knowing everyone else’s business... And still helpless to prevent an addict from overdosing.
He returned to the carriage house and puttered about setting up lights and a worktable. Deciding he’d wait for daylight to examine the finish, he hunted through bottles of screws for ones that might fit the hinges on the desk. He probably should have bought wood putty.
Gracie appeared with a mug of hot coffee, just as he was about to stop for the night. “You must be freezing out here.”
Nick scoffed. “In this humidity? You should try a Yorkshire winter sometime. I’m good, but that coffee is enticing. I was just coming in.”
She handed him the mug. “Pris said you liked it black.”
Even in his days with a healthy salary and women hanging on his arm, he’d never had anyone waiting on him. Enclosed in darkness, with only an overhead illuminating her pale face and tousled golden hair, the unassuming schoolteacher looked more than a little angelic.
Stupid thought. He sipped the hot brew. “This is good, thanks.”
“I just came out to tell you that Craig left a lot of tools in my garage,” she offered diffidently. “I don’t know if they’ll help, but you’re free to use them.”
He brightened. “That would be brilliant, thank you. I was making mental lists of everything I should have bought.”
They entered the warm kitchen where half the household seemed to gather at any given time. His hostess was nuking what appeared to be hot chocolate.
“Evangeline, I have a message for you from Mr. Hank.” Nick related what the store owner had said about the frame for the family surprise.
Evie’s eyebrows shot up.
Gracie spoke first. “Remember, I told you Bertie was preparing a big Christmas surprise but Sammy never saw it. I don’t think the family has whatever he wanted framed.”
Evie began texting. “No one mentioned finding artwork in the courthouse attic. Where else would he have kept it? Did he have any other hiding places?”
Gracie shook her head. “You probably ought to go into Charleston and check out the Janus gallery. If he knew this Verity person, maybe she took it there for framing. Just stay out of the courthouse attic, Evie.”
