Behind the Frame Read online

  Table Of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Acknowledgements

  Mini Rhubarb Pies

  About the Author

  Sneak Peek of Dead-End Detective

  Behind the Frame

  Copyright @ 2020 Tracy Gardner

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereinafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Print ISBN:978-1-947892-97-2

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-947892-98-9

  www.hallmarkpublishing.com

  For Joe, my always and most

  And for Katy, Joey, and H, my heartbeat

  Chapter One

  Savanna Shepherd entered Fancy Tails & Treats backward, carrying three steaming coffees and a white bakery box of frosted cinnamon rolls. Her dog’s leash was looped over her wrist, and scattered papers were sliding out of a folder sandwiched under one arm.

  Sydney, Savanna’s younger sister, came around the display counter of the grooming salon, relieving Savanna of the food and coffee and taking everything over to the round red-and-chrome table in the corner.

  “Thank you!” Savanna said. She unclipped Fonzie’s leash and followed Sydney.

  “What’s all that?” Sydney nodded at the papers now spread out on the tabletop just as her phone rang. “Wait, let me grab this first.” She zipped through the wide, daisy-decorated archway that divided the establishment and answered the phone at her desk. Then she sat down in front of her laptop, flipping her long, loose red braid over one shoulder.

  Savanna took a sip of her caramel macchiato, watching Fonzie dig through the toy basket for his favorite. The shop was strangely quiet, devoid of the usual yipping, barking patrons. Sydney didn’t take customers until 9 a.m.

  Fancy Tails & Treats doubled as a grooming salon and organic treat shop for Carson’s canine population. Sydney had hit a much-needed niche in their small town’s Main Street businesses; Fancy Tails had been successful from the day she’d opened. On this side of the shop, along with the gourmet treat-filled display case, Syd had created an inviting waiting area for her patrons in front of the windows, complete with overstuffed aqua couch and chair, café table, and mini-fridge stocked with complementary drinks.

  Sydney typed something into her computer, finishing the call, and then joined Savanna. “There’s only a week left of school. Don’t tell me you have all this paperwork?”

  “No, though I do have papers at home waiting for me,” Savanna said. As Carson’s elementary art teacher, she still had a lot of grading to finish before summer break. “This is for the Art in the Park festival!”

  Sydney clapped her hands together. “Ooh! I’m so excited for that! I still can’t believe you won the event for Carson! So.” Syd poked through a few of the papers as Savanna put them in order. “Do you have all the details figured out?”

  Savanna laughed. “I’ve got very little figured out. But with the planning banquet tonight, I arranged to meet with some of the committee this morning in the park to talk about logistics.”

  “I can help. Let me know what else I can do,” her sister offered. She popped a piece of icing-covered cinnamon roll in her mouth and closed her eyes. “Mmm, so good!”

  “I’ll need to circulate tonight and chat with the business owners who haven’t volunteered goods or services yet. Maybe you can help with that?”

  “That is a job I’m cut out for. I know everyone.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Savanna said, smiling.

  The bell over the door jingled and they looked up. It was only 8:45; the shop wasn’t technically open yet.

  Skylar Shepherd entered, out of breath, and tapped the smart watch on her wrist. She wore matching pink-and-navy workout gear and running shoes, and her shiny blond hair was pulled back into a short ponytail. Two years older than Savanna, four older than Sydney, Skylar was always perfectly coordinated, whether on a run or in a courtroom trying a case. She joined them at the table.

  “You look cute today,” Savanna told her. “As always. I’ve got to go. You’ll be at the banquet tonight, right?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it. Where are you running off to?” Skylar waved off the cinnamon roll box Sydney pushed over to her.

  Savanna straightened the black, 3/4 sleeve blazer she’d worn today over a bright yellow shell. “I’m meeting a few folks from city council and the state committee in the park; we need to have the festival tables and thoroughfare mapped out before tonight. Can Fonzie stay, Syd?”

  Sydney scratched Savanna’s little Boston terrier behind the ears. “Does it look like he wants to go with you?” He was lying on Sydney’s feet, chewing on a stuffed green lizard.

  “Not even a little.” Savanna smiled. She and Fonzie had returned home to Carson, Michigan last fall from a decade spent in Chicago, after breaking up with her fiancé and quitting her job on the same day. Starting her life over at thirty wasn’t something she’d planned, but Savanna loved being here with her family as much as Fonzie did.

  Savanna grabbed her coffee and the Art in the Park notes. “Hey, hold on!” Skylar said. “I wanted to hear how things went with Aidan yesterday. How was your dinner date?”

  “Thank you,” Sydney said to Skylar. “Savanna never tells me things. How was your date with Dr. Gallager?” She drew out his name in a sing-song voice, cocking an eyebrow at Savanna.

  Savanna rolled her eyes. “I don’t tell you things because you do that.—We had to reschedule.” She tried to keep the disappointment out of her tone.

  “What? Why?” Syd’s voice carried enough disappointment for both of them. “Oh Savvy, that stinks.” Her expression was all pout and concern.

  “He got stuck in New York. They had a trauma case come in, and he had to stay.”

  “Until when?” Skylar asked.

  “I didn’t want to ask. I mean, we only had a couple of dates before this whole flying-back-and-forth stuff started. He doesn’t owe me any explanations.”

  Sydney huffed her breath out in frustration. “He can’t be the only doctor there. He couldn’t tell them no?”

  Savanna was slowly backing toward the door. “He feels like he has to help. He says they’re still so shorthanded.” Aidan had literally called her from the airport yesterday when he’d learned he couldn’t come home yet.

 
His former employer in New York had tapped him a few months ago and begged him to lend them some time, as the hospital had just lost their chief of cardiothoracic surgery unexpectedly. Aidan had declined an offer to step into the position full-time, not wanting to uproot his seven-year-old daughter, but he’d agreed to help out while they looked for a replacement.

  He’d explained to Savanna, over a delicious candlelight dinner at Giuseppe’s in town two months ago, that the hospital, and his mentor and boss specifically, had done a lot for him. He couldn’t let them down. Aidan’s in-laws were more than happy to care for Mollie the two or three days each week he was in New York.

  Between Aidan’s absences, his family commitments, lengthened clinic hours when he was home, and Savanna’s own schedule, they’d had limited time to really get to know each other. Savanna cherished the friendship they’d struck up working together to save the town matriarch, Caroline Carson. And she was in no rush to fall into a new relationship, less than a year after Rob had left her to “find himself.”

  Savanna missed Aidan. She sensed he missed her too…he’d sounded disappointed on the phone yesterday.

  “Guys,” she said, noting both her sisters’ faces painted with sympathy. “It’s okay. Things will work out, or they won’t. I’m sure we’ll eventually get some time to catch up.”

  Sydney’s expression registered surprise. “That’s very chill of you, Savvy.”

  She laughed. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on me. I’ve got to go,” she said, halfway through the door now. “I’ll see you both tonight!”

  Savanna tried to push Aidan from her mind as she walked the three blocks to the park. She was still a few minutes early. Her friend Britt Nash, a colleague from Savanna’s former life as an art authenticator, would likely be the first person to arrive, but she couldn’t see anyone yet in the large, inviting community park that sat at the end of Main Street.

  The park was lush and green now in June, with a decent stand of mature trees at the far end, a gazebo near the town statue at the other, and plenty of room to picnic, play on swings, or toss a ball in the middle. Savanna had always loved relaxing here. On quiet days, it was even possible to hear the waves of Lake Michigan through the trees. The beach was only a short walk down a sandy trail past the park.

  As she approached, Savanna noticed something seemed off with the view, but she was still a block away. Her mind ran through her to-do list. She pulled a rough sketch of the park from her folder. The meeting this morning would involve herself, Britt, city councilman John Bellamy, and a liaison from the Art in the Park state committee that had awarded the event to Carson after Savanna’s months of campaigning. She’d been surprised at how much competition she’d been up against, and even more surprised when Carson had finally won.

  Today, the four of them were tasked with assessing the space to come up with the best layout for each of the Art in the Park facets: artwork display tents, concessions, live music stage, judges table, and more. Savanna wanted to firm up her rough sketch by the time the planning banquet kicked off tonight. Art submissions from all over the state had been coming into Carson’s parks and recreation department, which was really just an extension of Councilman Bellamy’s office. Savanna and John Bellamy had been meeting every Thursday to review submissions, and she’d recently enlisted Britt to help. There were so many aspiring artists in Michigan! The first place winner of Art in the Park would be awarded a nice monetary prize and a handsome scholarship to the prestigious Michigan Art Conservatory, as well as a round of a high-visibility interviews at local and state media outlets.

  Now Savanna saw what was wrong with the view. As she walked around the gazebo into the park, she stared up the twelve-foot-tall statue of Jessamina Carson on her pedestal. Jessamina wasn’t quite twelve feet tall any longer. Savanna gasped, covering her mouth in shock.

  Jessamina Carson’s head was missing.

  Savanna took an involuntary step back, away from the defaced, century-old statue, taking in the scene. What in the world?

  The head of the statue lay several yards away on the ground, scattered debris littering the grass between the base of the statue and the eerily severed concrete head. Across the base of the statue, from one side to the other, spanned large, red spray-painted words, NEVER CARSON.

  Savanna whirled around at a sound behind her, hands up defensively—a reflex, considering what she’d just stumbled onto. Her friend Britt was walking toward her, his eyes wide and his short, white-blond hair making him look paler than Savanna felt.

  “Savanna? What is this? What happened?”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea.” She turned in a circle, searching the park for any sign of the person who’d done this. No one. The park was deserted.

  Britt stood, hands on his hips, looking the statue up and down, gaze coming to rest on the ugly words. “Well, I’d say someone has a problem with your town.”

  Savanna stared at him. This made no sense at all. She moved closer to the statue, reaching out and gingerly touching the top of the red “C” with one finger. “It’s dry. Whoever did this is long gone—look how thick the paint is. I have to call the police.”

  She paused, phone in hand. If she called 911, this wouldn’t be considered an emergency. She guessed they’d send someone whenever they had a chance, to check things out. But this was a threat. Against Carson. And on the morning of the Art in the Park planning banquet. Ugh. She groaned.

  “Savanna?” Britt was looking at her, concerned.

  She frowned up at him. “Mrs. Kingsley is on her way here now. She’s sure to tell the rest of the committee about this. What if they cancel the whole event? Award it instead to the runner-up?”

  He nodded. “I see your point. But what can we do?”

  “We need help. Now,” she said. “I’m calling Detective Jordan.”

  “Sure, good idea. Call Detective Jordan. Who is Detective Jordan?”

  Savanna looked at him, phone to her ear. “I know him through Skylar,” she whispered. “He handled the case last year at the Carson mansion.”

  Nick Jordan finally picked up. “Savanna?”

  “Hi, Detective. I’m so sorry to bother you at home. On a weekend,” she added, cringing.

  “Don’t worry about it. What’s up?” His voice sounded dry. She could never tell if he was irritated or if this was just always his tone.

  Britt motioned to her, pointing toward the parking area. “John’s here, I’ll go tell him,” he whispered loudly before heading toward the councilman just getting out of his car.

  Savanna groaned inwardly. John Bellamy was here now, and Mrs. Kingsley would arrive any minute. She had to find a way to direct attention away from the statue. She followed Britt, not keeping up at all with his long-legged stride as she spoke into the phone. “I’m in the park, and someone has vandalized the statue. It’s bad. And the banquet is tonight, to kick things off for the Art in the Park event, and the state committee is coming, and I really think you need to see Jessamina. This wasn’t random. It’s awful. Will you please come?”

  She heard Nick Jordan sigh heavily. She supposed maybe he was at home with his wife, enjoying a leisurely Saturday morning…or maybe she’d woken him up. Savanna had a pang of guilt.

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Jordan hung up.

  Savanna stared at the phone in her hand before dropping it into her purse. She jogged a little to join the councilman and Britt. Councilman Bellamy wore a suit, as he did every single time she’d ever seen him. It seemed out of place today, a seventy-degree day in the park, but Bellamy had just announced his candidacy for Carson mayor against longtime incumbent Mayor Greenwood. Midterm elections were only three months away. John Bellamy was obviously intent on making good impressions no matter where he went.

  “Let’s sit for a minute while we wait for Mrs. Kingsley.” Savanna directed her little group to a row of park benches under
a large maple tree. Each bench back bore a colorful ad for a local business or service, something Savanna had just started noticing around town. She chose a pink-and-yellow bench that declared Let us pamper you, depicting a woman relaxing with cucumber slices over her eyes, for Carson’s new day spa. The adjacent few benches advertised Skylar’s law office, a property development company called Better Living, and a fishing charter company, Lake Michigan Expeditions.

  John Bellamy stared toward the statue. “Oh, no. What happened?”

  “We don’t know. We found her like that. I’d really like to avoid Mrs. Kingsley seeing the vandalism up close, if possible. We need to keep this festival in Carson. I don’t want her to get spooked. Things like this just don’t happen here!”

  Bellamy shook his head. “We can’t hide this. Believe me, I know Carson needs this event. I want everything to proceed as much as you do. But she’s going to see the statue.”

  As if on cue, a shiny black Cadillac pulled into the parking space next to Bellamy’s car. A tall, thin woman with enormous dark glasses exited and made her way slowly toward them, picking through the lawn in heels.

  “You’re right,” Savanna quietly agreed. She cleared her throat and fidgeted with a button her jacket, watching her approach. “We have to address it. It’ll be fine,” she said, more to herself than to the two men. She met Mrs. Kingsley halfway and shook her hand. “I’m Savanna Shepherd, Mrs. Kingsley. I’m so pleased to finally meet you in person.”

  The older woman took off her sunglasses and parked them atop her head. “Pleased to meet you, Savanna.” She smiled. “What a lovely setting for the event!” She glanced around, obviously not yet spotting what was left of Jessamina Carson.

  Savanna made introductions. “Mrs. Kingsley is the head of the state committee, out of Traverse City,” she told Britt and John Bellamy. “Mrs. Kingsley, this is Carson’s City Councilman, John Bellamy, who runs our Parks and Rec Department, and my colleague from the Lansing Museum of Fine Art, Britt Nash. You’ll be happy to hear we’ve gotten hundreds of excellent submissions so far.”