Page 31 of Seeking Justice

Wyatt, who had been studying the canvas with a critical eye, joined the conversation. “I don’t know about modern art, but something tranquil might be more fitting. You know, a river or mountains… Something calming.”

“Or a moose,” Sam added with a half smile, picturing a giant moose adorning their police station wall.

They all turned expectantly toward Jo, who had been observing the painting in silence. She was about to comment when something about the chaos of colors tugged at her detective instincts. The paint splotches, the hues, and the shades… They were strangely familiar. A sudden realization struck her, and without a word, she darted into Sam’s office.

Returning moments later with the photograph of the bandana in hand, she held it up next to the painting. The colors of the paint splatters on the canvas were an uncanny match to those on the bandana. The vibrant oranges, deep blues, startling greens—it was all there.

“Reese, where exactly did you get this?” Jo asked, her tone laced with a blend of urgency and excitement.

Reese, taken aback by Jo’s sudden interest, answered, “Oh, it’s from a local artist. Her studio is right next to the bookstore downtown. Lily Dunn is her name.”

Sam grabbed his keys from the hook on the wall. “Looks like we’re going shopping for a painting.”

* * *

Dunn Art wasan inviting palette of pastel hues, with a cornflower-blue awning trimmed in sunny yellow that fluttered gently in the soft breeze. Gorgeous paintings sat in the window, everything from serene landscapes to bold abstracts.

Warm light spilled from the interior onto the sidewalk, casting a welcoming glow that stood in stark contrast to the dimming sky. Inside, a young woman with an edgy pixie cut and a smock splattered with a spectrum of paint stains manned the register.

Her expression was one of easygoing welcome until her eyes registered their badges and uniforms. Her welcoming smile hesitated, the corners of her lips dipping slightly, as a shadow of concern crossed her features.

But then her gaze fell upon Lucy, and the woman’s face visibly relaxed, a softness creeping back into her eyes as she regarded the dog, a universal icebreaker. Lucy always had the effect of setting people at ease.

Lucy sniffed at Lily’s feet then looked up at Sam. A sure sign that Lucy recognized her scent, most likely from the bandana she’d found.

“Welcome to Dunn Art,” she said, regaining her composure. “Can I help you find something?” Her attempt to sound casual was betrayed by the slight quaver in her voice, a clear sign she was uncertain about the nature of their visit.

“Are you Lily Dunn?” Sam asked.

“Yes, I’m Lily,” she started tentatively, her initial professional tone faltering as her brain made the connection. Then, as realization dawned, her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, the painting for Reese! It’s quite the statement piece, isn’t it?” She forced a chuckle, her attempt at levity a thin veneer over her growing apprehension. “I’m thrilled it’s in the station. I think.”

Sam’s lips twitched into a half smile, recognizing the defensive pride of an artist concerned for her work’s reception. “It’s definitely… distinctive,” he said diplomatically. “But we’re here about something else.”

He held out the photo of the bandana, watching her closely. Her hand shot up to her throat, to the white bandana she wore, now smudged with splashes of various colors of paint. She twisted it beneath her fingers, a brief flash of a gold chain glinting underneath.

Sam studied Lily’s face as he presented the picture of the bandana. “Does this look familiar?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes intent.

Lily gave a noncommittal shrug. “Bandanas? Yeah, they’re part of my look. It comes in handy to have one on if I need to wipe off some paint that I splattered,” she said, trying to appear unfazed. “Lots of people wear them, though.”

“But this one has paint on it,” Sam pointed out, “similar to the colors in the artwork Reese bought from you.”

Lily’s eyes flickered between Sam and Jo, a hint of tension creeping into her demeanor. “Well, I guess it does. It could be mine,” she said with forced lightness. “But what exactly are you getting at?”

Sam leaned in slightly. “Just wondering if it’s yours. And if you might’ve been near the owl sanctuary recently?”

There was a flicker, a tiny spasm around her left eye, as she replied a bit too quickly, “Nope, haven’t been around there.”

The room hung heavy with silence as Sam held her gaze. Finally, Lily offered, “I do hike in the woods sometimes, though. Maybe I dropped it on a hike, and it somehow ended up over there? The wind blew it or an animal dragged it?”

Sam gave a slow, thoughtful nod. “Maybe,” he conceded. “Well, if you weren’t at the owl sanctuary, then that’s all we need to know.”

He turned to leave, with Jo following behind. At the door, Jo paused, glancing back at the colorful canvases that adorned the walls. “By the way, you do great work.” Jo gestured broadly at her paintings.

The faintest smile washed over Lily’s face as they departed, but her hand subconsciously twisted the bandana as she watched them leave.

Sam and Jo, with Lucy in tow, made their way back to the Tahoe parked along Main Street.

“So, what’d you think of that?” Sam inquired as they reached the SUV.

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