Picture Perfect Frame (Tourist Trap Mysteries #12) - Lynn Cahoon Page 0,10

Amy sipped her wine. “I don’t think she’s going to get much. Evie’s pretty closemouthed about her past. I’m not even positive where she’s from.”

“New York,” both Justin and I said at the same time.

I felt a jerk as a woman walking behind us grabbed the back of my chair to steady herself. Her eyes were a little bloodshot, and the smell of alcohol swept over me as she started talking. “I love visiting New York. We always stay near Times Square, but it’s so crazy busy there. Not like this little town. Steve says New York’s a cesspool, but I love the vibe you get in the Theater District. All so creative.”

“Come along, Nan. No one wants to hear about how much you love New York City.” A man in a polo shirt and tan Dockers took the woman by the arm. “Sorry for the bother.”

“I didn’t bother them,” Nan said as he walked her to the last two empty chairs. “They were the ones to bring up New York, not me. Besides, I rarely get to talk to people in person. Video chat only goes so far when you’re trying to make a connection. I’ve told you that time and time again.”

When they got seated Meredith tried to get everyone’s attention again. “We’re going to start painting now. Neal will be walking around and will help if anyone needs refreshments or with paints. I’ll be leading you through the class. Make sure you raise your hands high if you don’t understand one of my instructions. Art is one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perception, so I’m going to teach you perception tonight. The inspiration you can do on your own time.”

As we started painting, I leaned toward Greg. “We might as well be doing paint by numbers if we can’t be creative.”

“Maybe your flower will actually look like a flower this way.” He tried to put a dot of paint on my nose. “Stop being such a tortured artist and just follow directions. This is fun.”

The evening passed with step-by-step instructions on how to paint the picture. I wasn’t sure what we were even painting. I hated not being able to see the big picture. I wanted to copy a painting, not listen to someone tell me to paint five inches of blue across the canvas six inches up from the bottom. How was that going to teach me how to paint?

“I want another drink,” I heard Nan say very loudly to her husband when we were on a quick break.

“Drink the water I brought you so you can walk out of here rather than me having to carry you to the car,” Steve responded.

I tried not to turn my head to look, but I could feel Greg casually watching the scene to make sure it didn’t go south on us. That’s one of the problems with living with a guy who works in law enforcement. Constant vigilance is his life. I saw him turn and meet Justin’s gaze. The soft jerk of his head in a negative gesture made Justin lean back a bit. Apparently, Greg had backup if he needed it. He just didn’t need it quite yet.

I saw Neal walk over and squat between Nan and Steve’s chairs. The three of them chatted for a minute, then he got up and moved toward us.

“Can I get you another drink? Maybe a slice of cheesecake?” Neal asked as he paused at our table.

I nodded to the other couple. “Everything okay over there?”

He glanced back at them and sighed. “It’s fine. They’re just dealing with something no one should need to deal with. It’s hard to see them suffering.”

“You know them?” Greg’s question sounded casual.

Neal shrugged. “Not very well. They’re Steve and Nan Gunter. He’s some big computer guy over in the valley. She runs a home business. They were at the winery last night and we got to talking. They lost their son a few years ago in a skiing accident. They’re still not healed.”

“That’s so sad.” I snuck a peek at Nan and Steve, but they were talking quietly with their heads tilted together. “I don’t need anything else, but thank you.”

“No problem.” His gaze darted up to his wife where she was talking with Darla about her painting. His next words came out tight and forced. “That’s what I’m here for, to lend a helping hand.”

After he’d left Amy and Justin started talking about wedding plans. No wonder their wedding changed day after day;

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