Diva 03 _ Diva Paints the Town, The by Krista Davis Read Free Book Online Page B

supplies in the living room and checked the backyard for poor little Emmaline. Mordecai had carried her everywhere. It seemed as if her sweet little paws never touched the ground. She must be in shock to be out in the cold, all alone. But there was no sign of her out back.
    Just as Mordecai had predicted, china, stemware, and serving pieces waited in the butler’s pantry to be used. There was something unsettling about it, as if the plates had been carefully stashed there to wait for his death. I washed them all. Who knew how long they’d been collecting dust in the cabinets?
    Somehow the living room felt empty. Unlike the family room, where Mordecai had clearly lived, the living room appeared to be stuck in a time warp—as though it had been abandoned years ago. Thick dust clung to everything, but there wasn’t much in the room.
    I strode to the middle of the living room and checked it against Mordecai’s diagram. The sofa was against the wall, across from the fireplace. Faded blue velvet wing-back chairs flanked the sofa, and an antique painting of a landscape filled the wall above it. The biggest Oriental carpet I’d ever seen covered a good bit of the hardwood floor. A table and two graceful chairs with oval backs filled a spot in front of the windows that looked out to the street, and an antique secretary with ball-and-claw feet and latticework doors stood against the wall. Artfully arranged knickknacks were visible through the glass doors, and I wondered if they’d been touched at all since Mordecai’s wife passed away. I was willing to do a little dusting, but my generosity had its limits when it came to the sport of cleaning, which I despised.
    I left the knickknacks alone. As long as no one opened the doors to the secretary, they probably wouldn’t notice anyway.
    As I tried to wipe surfaces clean without kicking up the dust of the ages, I was glad the room appeared to match Mordecai’s sketch, and that I wouldn’t have to search the house for something that was missing. After dusting, I ran the vacuum and decided I’d had enough cleaning.
    Although an enormous Louis XV sideboard filled the wall that led to the dining room, the long coffee table would be ideal for serving Mordecai’s menu to a small group. Not exactly a big job for his final request.
    Day had dawned outside. I checked the backyard again for any sign of Emmaline, but she wasn’t there. When I returned with the food in the afternoon, I could put out a little bit to see if she would show up.
    On my way out, I paused for a moment in the family room. Bernie and Mars had shoved aside some of the clutter. I’d been so alarmed late last night when we searched the house that I hadn’t even noticed a basic window seat of unstained wood resting on a tarp near the window. It was bigger than I’d expected, nearly sofa size. I had to give Bernie a lot of credit for whipping it up so fast, since I knew Mars couldn’t have been much help. Bernie had been right—it would be charming with loads of cushy pillows.
    Anyone else would have kept it simple, but I appreciated Bernie’s nod to the ever-present need for storage by putting hinges on the top. I lifted the lid . . . and slammed it down.
    My heart beat in my chest like it was trying to run away by itself. Swallowing hard, I opened the top again. Kurt lay on his back. All hint of color had drained from his face, but his hair matted in one horrible red spot, and a dried cherry stain marred his forehead.
    I closed the lid, gently this time, and my thoughts flew to Nina. She would be devastated. I didn’t want to implicate her in anything, but I had no choice. I had to call the police. Amid the jumble of panicked thoughts racing through my head, it dawned on me that Kurt probably wouldn’t have crawled into the window seat to die. Someone had put him there. Someone who could still be in the house.
    Like a shot, I fled out the front door to the sidewalk. I paused for a second to look up at the