Page 65 of Monster Among the Roses (Fairy Tale Quartet 1)

The best way to find out if you can trust someone is to trust them.

“That’s the work of Black Crimson,” I said. “You like it?”

“It’s breathtaking,” she murmured. “And the quote sounds like someone famous should’ve written it.”

“Someone famous did write it. Ernest Hemingway,” I said. When she glanced at me, I shrugged. “I had to look it up after the first time I saw the painting.”

Nodding, she glanced back over her shoulder to take in the last of the masterpiece before we’d driven past it completely. Turning forward again, she asked, “Who’s Black Crimson?”

I shook my head. “No one knows. He’s the city’s famous—or maybe I should say infamous—graffiti artist. He only works in black, white, and red spray paint, and all his masterpieces usually depict some kind of meaningful message. They’re signed B.C., which is how he became dubbed Black Crimson.”

Isobel wrinkled her nose. “I’m sure B and C are for the initials in his name, not for the colors in which he works.”

“Probably. But no one knows, so they just call him Black Crimson. Rolls off the tongue better than B.C., I guess.”

She turned to watch me seriously. “What do you think of them?”

“I like them,” I said honestly. “I hate how the city paints over them. They’re not evil and have actually seemed to lift the morale of the people, especially the ones who were so affected after the closing of the Pestle shoe factory. Plus, someday, I can picture a future archeologist uncovering them and trying to figure out the meaning and culture behind them.”

Isobel stared at me silently before nodding her head. “That’s a good answer. I think I like them too.”

I don’t know why her agreement pleased me. It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d liked them or not, but it just felt good to know we were of the same accord. It made me feel as if we understood each other better.

“Want me to take you past my favorite one? It’s not too far from where we’re going. We can swing by it on the way.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I’d like that very much.”

Her answer was so formal, I burst out laughing before answering, “Indeed, my lady.”

She reached across the center console to nudge my arm and roll her eyes, all the while grinning over my tease. “Just drive.”

I did but still had to smirk as I went. Making a slight detour from our original destination, I turned down a side street until we passed the town’s historical museum. The outer wall facing the street held no windows, deeming it a perfect place for Black Crimson to strike. In this picture, he—or she—had painted a tower with some long flowing hair streaming out the balcony at the top. It flowed all the way to the ground. Some hapless guy had tried to climb the hair, but he must’ve lost his grip because he was flailing in midair, ready to drop to his doom.

The quote for this picture said:

Don’t take life too seriously. You’re not getting out of it alive.

From the passenger seat, Isobel burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that’s hilarious.” Holding her side, she rolled to face me. “Who is it a quote from?”

Her eyes glittered with joy and I had to admit, it felt nice, knowing she realized I’d made sure to find out the answer to that question already.

“Elbert Hubbard,” I said. “Or at least, it’s similar to one of his quotes.”

She nodded. “Does all of Black Crimson’s art illustrate some fairy tale or another?”

I sent her a curious glance.

Motioning behind her, she explained. “Well, that one was obviously Rapunzel. And the one before was the Big Bad Wolf, right?”

“Holy shit,” I cried, gaping at her before shaking my head and returning my attention to the road. “I think you’re right. I remember another one having some guy leaning over a sleeping woman and one had a mermaid on it, which must be—”

“The Little Mermaid,” she murmured for me.

I nodded before saying, “Huh. I wonder why I never caught on to that before.”

“Well, the pictures look pretty contemporary. No one is wearing chainmail and suits of armor or big, flaring dresses with tiaras, which usually clues a person in to a fairy tale.”

“True,” I allowed before winking over at her. “Or I just needed someone like you around to notice the obvious for me.”

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