the class packed up their supplies.
“Follow me to Dick Blick’s art supplies on Federal Highway,” Jenny said as they walked to the parking lot. “It’s in the shopping center next to Whole Foods.”
Jenny’s bright red Tesla was easy to track in the Fort Lauderdale traffic. Helen had never been in an art supplies store, but she was dazzled by the colors.
“Rainbows everywhere!” she said. She saw rainbows of paper—tissue paper, construction paper, posterboard and sketch pads. Rainbows of colored pencils, and pots and tubes of paint.
“I love the color names,” Helen said. “Titanium White, Cerulean Blue Hue, Mars Black, Cobalt Blue, Brilliant Purple . . .”
“All you need for this class is Cadmium Yellow Medium, Cadmium Red and Ultramarine Blue—those are your primary colors,” Jenny said, “plus white and black. But throw in any colors that catch your fancy. My treat. I’m buying.”
“But—”
“You’re at this class because I hired you to find Annabel’s killer,” Jenny said, “and I saw you staring off into space. You’re bored silly.”
As they wandered the aisles, Helen said, “I read the old news stories about Hugo’s fling with his office manager and how Annabel told the private detective about the baby. Why did she do that?”
“Because Hugo was such a jerk,” Jenny said. “Annabel thought she had a happy marriage until the office manager turned up on her doorstep with a bouncing baby.”
“Sounds like a scene from a Victorian novel,” Helen said.
“You can’t imagine the fireworks it set off,” Jenny said. “Annabel and Hugo had been discussing whether they wanted children, and Hugo said he didn’t. Annabel decided she didn’t, either. She wanted a career. Then it turned out he already had a child by another woman. Hugo refused to acknowledge the child as his, and it got ugly.
“Hugo’s affair with the office manager shattered his marriage. Annabel lost all respect for her husband when he tried to duck his responsibility. She divorced him, and it was bitter. Annabel was badly hurt by his betrayal.”
“She certainly got her revenge when the detective showed up,” Helen said.
“Yes, but Annabel really did believe her ex-husband wouldn’t be a good CEO. That’s why she told the detective about the messy scandal.”
“And Hugo blamed her for ratting him out,” Helen said.
“And Annabel was stuck with Hugo for the rest of her life,” Jenny said. “If she went to a party, Hugo turned up and ruined her good time. When Annabel started painting and having shows, Hugo would find a way to be there and spoil her triumph. He even took this painting class to annoy her.”
“How does he keep his job if he goes to a painting class in the morning?” Helen asked.
“He told his boss this is his lunch break,” Jenny said. “Hugo devoted his life to ruining Annabel’s happiness. He was bound to Annabel by a burning hate.”
“And you think he killed her,” Helen said.
“Yes,” Jenny said. “Annabel’s death finally freed Hugo.”
CHAPTER 10
“I t’s me,” said the girlish voice on Helen’s cell phone.
Helen, juggling her new art supplies and her cell phone, didn’t recognize the voice.
“Cissy. From art class,” the woman said. “You skipped out today before I had a chance to talk to you. I have so much to tell you about Annabel. And the police interviewed me about her murder.”
“Oh, right.” Helen stashed her new supplies in the back of the Igloo and waved good-bye to Jenny. “When do you want to meet?”
“Now?” Cissy said. “We could have lunch. It’s twelve thirty. We can go to Kaluz.”
Helen whistled. “Fancy restaurant.”
“So you know where it’s at? On Commercial Boulevard right by the drawbridge.”
“I’ve been there,” Helen said. “Wonderful outdoor terrace.”
“It’s too hot to sit outside. I’ll get us a table inside and we can watch the boats. My treat.”
Kaluz’s owners had turned an old
Caisey Quinn, Elizabeth Lee