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“Let me get those lists for you,” Holly said as she headed back to her office.
Theodosia glanced around, then reached a hand out and touched a large canvas that was leaning up against the counter. From what she could see, it was a blue-and-green abstract painting with a small red sticker in one corner. “This painting’s been sold?” she asked Philip.
Philip made a lemon face. “It was. Until Holly got a call from the buyer saying they were no longer interested.”
“Sad,” Theodosia said.
“Unfair,” Philip said.
“Here are those lists.” Holly returned to hand over three sheets of paper, still warm from the printer. “The first two pages are our guest list from yesterday, the third sheet details the new artists we signed up.”
“And how many of those artists have pulled out?” Theodosia asked.
“Five called to tell me they’re going to seek representation elsewhere,” Holly said, “so I put little ticks next to their names and contact information.” Her mouth twisted in a grimace. “ ‘Seek representation elsewhere.’ Those words sound so benign, yet they’re slowly killing me.” She looked around the gallery. “Killing my dream.”
“I’ll get to work on this right away,” Theodosia said.
“Can’t be easy to find a killer,” Holly said.
“You know what?” Philip said. “If I had to put money on anyone as the guilty party, it’d be Lamar Lucket, Claxton’s political opponent. From what I know, the guy’s a snake.”
“Why do you say that?” Theodosia asked.
“Well, being a restaurant owner I naturally hear things from my friends in the hospitality industry,” Philip said. “And most people don’t have a positive opinion of Lamar Lucket. He’s apparently difficult to deal with and notoriously hard on his staff.”
“That’s what I’ve heard, too,” Holly said.
“But is Lucket a killer?” Theodosia asked.
“Hard to say,” Philip said. “But if Lucket is involved, there’s always the chance he didn’t do the hit himself, that he hired someone. But I know Lucket was the main dude who was running neck and neck against Claxton.”
“Who do you think would have been successful?” Theodosia asked. “Who would have won the election?”
Philip screwed up his face, as if he were deep in thought. “Hard to say. Both Claxton and Lucket played dirty and I think the polls had them at even odds.”
“What about now?” Theodosia asked.
“Now?” Philip said. “Since it’s too late in the game to find a suitable replacement for Claxton, Lucket’s a shoo-in.”
“Yeah,” Theodosia said. “That’s what I think, too.”
7
“You’re still here,” Theodosia said. She’d hurried back to the Indigo Tea Shop, hoping to catch Drayton, and here he was, still fussing about with a self-satisfied look on his face.
“Teapots are wiped out, floors are swept, and I was just about to lock up,” Drayton said.
“Wonderful. Now I have a proposition for you.”
“Uh-oh.” Drayton touched his bow tie in a nervous gesture. “Does this have anything to do with the murder of Osgood Claxton?”
“How did you guess?”
“Because you just came from the Imago Gallery and have that thrill-of-the-hunt look on your face.”
“Well...” He had her there.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Drayton said. “What exactly does your proposition entail? Please tell me we’re not going to break into the county morgue and spirit away Claxton’s body or something equally dreadful.”
