Chapter 18
Dear Natasha,
I watch your show every day. But you don’t do much with furniture. I found a lovely chest of drawers for my little boy, but it’s so plain. He’s crazy for dinosaurs! How can I dress it up without drawing dinosaurs?
Unartistic Mommy in Paint Rock, Texas
Dear Unartistic Mommy,
Buy inexpensive dinosaur molds, fill them with polymer clay, and bake. When they have hardened, paint them bright colors and adhere your new dinosaurs to the chest.
Natasha
“Do you think he was out there, waiting for me to leave?” asked Emery.
“It’s entirely possible. Did Dulci and Lark have a connection before the trip? Do they belong to the same club or have the same hobby?” I asked.
“They knew each other. We socialized together. I knew Lark’s husband. He was also a pathologist and that sometimes brought us together at various functions. Dulci doted on our grandchildren and spent a lot of time with them. She volunteered at the hospital gift shop one day a week and she belonged to a crocheting group. I don’t know if Lark was involved with any of those things.”
I hated to pose this question and was certain Wolf must have, but he certainly wouldn’t share the response with me. “Do you know of anyone who would have wanted to kill Dulci?”
He looked away again and shook his head. “She was kind and thoughtful.” He smiled wryly. “Our daughter asked yesterday, ‘Why would anyone want to murder Mom? She was so boring!’ It sounds so unkind, but I know what she meant. Dulci wasn’t involved in anything controversial. She focused on her family and friends.”
“I’m so sorry, Emery,” I said.
“I didn’t know the trip to Portugal would be our last trip together. We had a delightful time. I just can’t believe she’s gone. Who would do this to her?”
“Emery, think back to your trip. Did anything odd happen? Did Dulci return from a bus tour and tell you a weird story?”
His brow furrowed. “You think someone followed us back from Portugal just to murder Dulci? That’s absurd.”
“On its face, I guess it is. But Dulci’s and Lark’s deaths were remarkably similar. And Lark was murdered less than twenty-four hours after you returned. I can’t help thinking there’s some connection. Don’t you find it odd that the killer bothered to place a ladder next to each of them even though it was dark outside and there’s not a chance that either of them was planning to do anything requiring a ladder?”
His eyes narrowed. “I see what you mean. Dulci was always climbing on ladders to decorate the house. Every Christmas I begged her to wait and have our handyman do it for her. She never listened. So I didn’t give the ladder any thought at all.”
“What happened in Portugal?” I pressed.
He gazed at me blankly and at that moment, the front door burst open and a young woman’s voice called, “Dad? I brought breakfast!”
Emery bolted from his chair. “Becky!” He strode toward his daughter and hugged her. Both of them cried.
It was time for me to get out of their way and let them grieve. As I walked past them, I encountered a nice-looking young man who introduced himself as Pat. “The son-in-law,” he clarified.
I offered my condolences and left.