Heritage of Darkness by Kathleen Ernst Read Free Book Online Page A

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    blackboard. Emil Bergsbakken was arranging decoratively carved
    objects on another table. Roelke slid into the lone empty chair.
    The woman on his left had warm gray eyes and a long mane of
    silver hair held in place with butterfly barrettes. “Lavinia Carmichael,” she said in response to Roelke’s introduction, and offered a firm handshake.
    “Good morning,” Emil called. The carving instructor looked
    tired. Well, Roelke thought, it was a short night. The evening
    before, when they’d arrived at his farmhouse just north of Deco-
    rah, Emil had politely showed Roelke to the guest bedroom and
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    immediately retired. Emil had likely known Petra, and was shaken
    by her death. Hell of a way to start the week, Roelke thought.
    “Norway has a rich tradition in woodcarving.” Emil held up an
    ornately-carved mantel clock. “This is an example of acanthus
    work. Note the flowing leaves and vines.”
    “Stunning fluid energy in that piece,” Lavinia murmured.
    Roelke, who knew nothing about fluid energy, nodded.
    Emil continued, “Now, this platter shows chip carving, which is
    the style we’ll be working with this week.” His voice gained
    strength. “V-shaped gouges carved into the wood create intricate
    but balanced patterns, because life is made up darkness and light.
    This carving tradition stretches back over 1,500 years. The most
    common motifs are geometric.”
    Lavinia shook her head in admiration. “Look at the symmetry
    in those rosettes.”
    Roelke, who knew nothing about rosettes—symmetrical or
    otherwise—nodded again. Since his objective had been to accom-
    pany Chloe and Marit, he really hadn’t given this chip carving class much thought. He could whittle a simple bird or turtle, but that
    was about it. Now he wondered if he was in over his head.
    “I’m going to pass around some handouts,” Emil said. “Then
    we’ll begin.”
    Lavinia took two knives stored in plastic tubes from a well-
    worn canvas bag. “Thank heavens,” she murmured. “I’ve been
    looking forward to this class for months, and when I heard about
    Petra last night, I was afraid Howard would cancel everything.
    Trust Petra to go out with a bang.”
    That seemed cold. “I beg your pardon?”
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    Lavinia flapped a hand. “I shouldn’t have said that. Never
    mind.”
    “Sure,” Roelke said. “I take it you knew Ms. Lekstrom, though?”
    “Oh, I knew her.” Lavinia flipped through an over-stuffed
    three-ring binder and opened it to a blank page. “If it weren’t for her, I never would have discovered chip carving, which I love.”
    “Wasn’t Petra a painter? Did she carve, too?”
    “No, Petra stuck to painting. That’s the point.” Lavinia accepted
    a packet of papers and passed the stack to Roelke. “But I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”
    Emil said, “I want to analyze some designs so you understand
    the foundations of chip carving. The first important element is
    focal point.” He held up the platter. “As you can see here …”
    Roelke tried to follow along, but his mind was turning over
    Lavinia’s cryptic comments. At the reception, Sigrid had men-
    tioned that Lavinia was a member of the Sixty-Seven Club, but
    evidently Petra had said or done something that caused Lavinia to
    give up painting altogether.
    He turned that over in his brain. Simply passing that tidbit on
    to Chief Moyer would lead to official questioning. That might be
    inevitable, but it would be much more pleasant for Lavinia—who,
    after all, had no idea she’d just been chatting with a cop—if he
    could discover the story unofficially.
    He drummed one thumb against the table. Someone—maybe
    him, maybe Chloe—needed to talk to Marit.
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    six
    Chloe watched the clock’s minute hand creep toward noon
    with tensed muscles, ready to bolt. Yes —
    “Remember,” Mom called, “I want everyone to finish mixing
    their paints before lunch.”
    Chloe dropped back into her chair. Shit. The long morning
    wasn’t over