By Friday Kiko had figured out what to get Dom for Christmas. It was a bold idea, a potentially embarrassing one, too, but once Kiko had come up with it he couldn’t think past it. When Katie showed up at eight in the morning it was to see him grinning as he tracked down a photographer in Madison.
“What are you smiling about?” she asked, moving to straighten the books by Mother’s cage.
“Oh, just Christmas,” said Kiko. “Picking out gifts is fun.”
Katie sighed.
“Ugh, I’m still not done shopping for my kids. And by that I mean I haven’t started. Mother of the year here, right?”
“It’s only the twelfth,” said Kiko, putting the photographer’s number in his phone.
“Sure. And then next week it’ll only be the nineteenth, and suddenly it’s Christmas and you’re stuck staying up until three in the morning wrapping everything you bought last minute.”
Kiko really hoped his sister would bring everything for her kids already wrapped. He’d been tucking away the odd gift for them, but generally he only got them a handful of things. This did remind him that he ought to get something else for Dom, something that could actually be placed under the tree with everything else.
“What do you think?” he asked, pulling up Cat’s site. “What I’m planning on getting Dom isn’t appropriate for anyone else to see, so I ought to get him something else, too. What about one of those fruit paintings he’s always talking about?”
Kiko did not particularly like them, but he could see where they had merit. Apples with carved eyes and mouths in tuxedos like humans, strawberries in a bowl rotting in the shape of a screaming face—as he scrolled through the listed paintings he tried to find something that stood out as Dom to him, yet that he wouldn’t mind having around. Just not in the bedroom.
“Just what are you getting him that isn’t appropriate?” asked Katie, leaning on the counter. She seemed a little disappointed at seeing Sasha’s art blog on the computer screen rather than anything juicier. “Oh, those. Disgusting, aren’t they?”
“They’re not much my thing, but they are interesting. Dom seems to like them.”
Katie sniffed. The tinkling of the bell at the door signaled a customer and Kiko closed the page, thinking he could figure this out later.
“Well, maybe anything halfway decent got egged,” said Katie before shooting a warm smile at the older couple that entered with what was likely their grandchild. They began to wander the store, not looking like they needed any help, so both she and Kiko let them be.
“I wonder how much that will cut into what Cat’s sending us,” said Kiko, thinking Katie was being a little harsh. He printed off several new orders. “She hasn’t called at all to say when she’s dropping it by?”
“You know I would have told you or written a note,” said Katie. Kiko sighed.
“I’m anxious. It’s already day three of the Twelve Days of Mount Angus, and we’re day six. I’d like to have everything in before everyone starts dropping by to collect their stamp. She’ll miss out on a lot of business for her artists if she misses that.”
Katie moved to make her green tea.
“Elena says she got hers Wednesday night. Turtle doves was Thursday, so she had it in time…”
“Maybe I should give Cat a call a little later. If she wants I can swing by for it at some point, and maybe check out those paintings while I’m at it.”
“Those?” asked Katie. “The Sasha Jennings fruit paintings?” When Kiko nodded, she leaned closer and lowered her voice slightly. “Those won’t be at Cat’s anymore. Apparently Sasha was one of the artists who pulled her work after the egging.”
“Well, she has a website,” said Kiko, a little disappointed. He was fairly certain Sasha lived in New Slough, and he didn’t really care to drive all the way out there.
“I heard she’s displaying down at Angus Arts now.”
Kiko stared at Katie, who nodded vigorously at his disbelief.
“Cat can’t be too happy with that,” said Kiko, thinking Dom might just find something damning tonight after all. “Are there any other artists who pulled and took their work to Mount Angus?”
“For the most part it seems no,” said Katie. “But then, all my information is at least a day old now. Do you think it’s Ben who trashed Cat’s art hall?”
“That’s the most straightforward conclusion, isn’t it? And generally the most obvious person is the guilty one. But even if it is Ben, we have to get some proof for Cat or she won’t be able to do anything about it.”
“I bet family Christmas is just a treat for them,” said Katie. Kiko glanced at the time, figured he could give the photographer a call.
“Mind if I step into the basement a moment and make a call? I’ll probably have to ask you to cover for me a few hours next week, too.”
“Only if you promise to tell me everything,” said Katie. Kiko rolled his eyes.
* * * *
Dom ate the last of the soup for dinner even though he’d already had it for lunch, glad that Kiko cooked good food. Maybe he wasn’t so skilled on that front, but he was going out and tracking down proof of Ben’s guilt tonight, and that was something. He grinned to himself as he changed into more comfortable clothes. He had every intention of forcing Kiko to hang whatever he managed to draw on the fridge, even if he had to buy a magnet to do it. Kiko’s fridge was pristine. Dom didn’t even know how anyone managed that.
His phone rang and he turned it to silent, not caring to talk to his brother. After Dom and Kiko had smoothed things over yesterday morning and particularly after Kiko seemed willing to forgive him for the situation with Mother, Dom felt like he should do what Kiko suggested and be the bigger person. He figured they’d both regret it, but at least he’d have that to use as reason why they should never invite his family to anything ever again, regardless how big an event it was.
Dom didn’t care to examine why he was thinking about large family-related events with Kiko. That was dangerous territory. Instead, he pulled on his coat and went out to his car.
Angus Arts was in some sort of renovated Victorian house, sitting on a corner not far from downtown Mount Angus. The sign was in the shape of a cow and had paint splatters on it, a thing so ugly even Dom had the sense to hate it. When he entered the building it was into a large main area, mostly empty. A sign by the staircase with an arrow pointing upward read, “Classes, Studios.” Dom glanced around, seeing an unstaffed register and rooms to either side of the staircase full of art. Down one side he could see some of Owen’s taxidermy pieces, but all the noise was from above. He climbed the stairs.
Dom followed the voices to a large second floor room, well-lit, with all the blinds on the windows down to completely seal everyone in. There were less than ten people in the room, mostly men, all holding beers. A middle-aged white man, clean-shaven, with dirty blond hair approached Dom, holding out a can of cheap beer.
“Dom, is it?” he asked. Instead of shaking he passed the beer over. “I’m Ben Vankel. You’re the new guy tonight.”
“Thanks,” said Dom as he took the beer, not sure how else to respond.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be a regular, too.”
“Isn’t this only the third class?” asked Dom, remembering what he’d seen online. Ben popped open a beer for himself and took a drink. Dom could envision Buddy’s rage at this, but then he figured he’d want to serve cheap booze, too, if he was running one of these things. Still, Dom had paid forty bucks for this class, the least Ben could have done was get quality beer.
“Charcoal and Cheers hasn’t yet found that aspiring artist who won’t come back again. Feel free to drink as much as you want. Use of supplies is covered in the cost, and you can take whatever you make with you.”
“Who’s the model tonight?” asked someone loudly from halfway across the room. Ben turned.
“Cancelled on me last moment,” he said to groans. “But I have a replacement. High school student. And you’d better watch it, because it’s Justine.”
“Who’s Justine?” asked Dom, popping the tab on his beer. Ben turned away from the murmurs and back to him.
“My daughter, and she’s off limits.”
Dom stared at him, can halfway to his lips. He knew he should be grilling Ben about where he was Sunday night through Monday afternoon, should be digging for important damning clues, but his mind stuck on what Katie had said about his classes.
“Your daughter’s the nude model? Isn’t that illegal or something?”
Ben’s smile disappeared.
“I don’t know where you got your information,” he said, voice hard, “but I don’t use nude models. And you watch it around my daughter.”
Dom stared after Ben as he turned to provide a beer to the man who just walked in. He wasn’t completely sure what was going on and everything felt just a little wrong to him. But after pissing Ben off he decided to keep a low profile, do his sketching and have a couple beers like everyone else, and tackle questioning the owner of Angus Arts later.
People were selecting stools and pencils, so Dom joined in, finding a place in the circle. When everyone was situated Ben’s daughter came out dressed in what had to be her bathing suit, a cow print bikini. She laid a beach towel down on the floor and lay down on her stomach, arranging her hair before pretending to sleep. Maybe she was actually sleeping. Dom wasn’t sure. All he knew was he felt awkward being one of many sets of eyes staring at her.
Dom glanced around. There seemed to be no instruction here, just everyone doing whatever they felt like and drinking beer. He hesitated, distinctly uncomfortable. Why Ben couldn’t have just put a potted plant in the center of the room he didn’t know.
“Stuck?” asked Ben. He’d stopped circling around the room to pause behind Dom.
“Never done this before. I’m not sure where to start.”
“Some people start with a little curvy line for the spine, like this,” said Ben, taking Dom’s pencil and producing one long, wavy line. “Then you just…fill in. Another beer?”
“Sure,” said Dom, and “filled in” as best as he could. It was a painful two hours, and near the end he was debating even staying to talk with Ben. But that was why he’d come, after all, so when time was up and people were filing out he lingered, adding little finishing touches to his sketch and then taking forever to put away his pencils. The last person talking to Ben just wouldn’t seem to leave.
“Hey, Dad,” said a boy, maybe fifteen years old, entering the room. When the man talking to Ben saw him he turned and left, leaving Dom alone in the room with the awkward family reunion. He decided to give up; he wasn’t getting anything, and it would be too obvious to stay now, with all his supplies put away and even the model gone.
“What is it now, Christian?” asked Ben, and as Dom moved toward the door he heard what had to be one of the most common of teenage ailments.
“Can I borrow some money? You know what Mom’s like when I ask…”
Dom sure hoped he wouldn’t have to be a repeat artist next week.
* * * *
Just when things looked like they were winding down in Yolks on You and Kiko was seriously considering closing early to go home and clean, Martha and Buddy walked in, encased in puffy coats, eyes aglow. Martha said something that made Buddy laugh, and Kiko watched them stomp snow off their boots.
Katie was going to want to hear about this in the morning.
Martha Bobo, owner of Bobo’s Bison, and Buddy had been seeing each other for months now. Their relationship was legendary in Mount Angus for being what a lot of people had taken to calling “true love.” Martha had given Buddy a bison to replace his deceased mascot cow, and Buddy had given Martha the opportunity to create a special beer with him. Everyone was eagerly awaiting the Twelfth Day of Mount Angus, when they would announce what they had created and make it available for purchase just in time for Christmas.
Kiko watched them giggle their way to the book selection and tried to look otherwise occupied at his computer. He already knew what they were here for and he hoped he wouldn’t have to hear about what other foods they had tried naked.
“So glad to see you stocked more of those cookbooks, Kiko,” said Martha as she and Buddy brought one of Sander Koch’s cookbooks to the counter. Kiko rang them up without looking at the picture of his ex on the back of the book. He used to stock strictly egg-related books, but the requests for Sander’s work had been so forceful that he’d eventually given in and kept a few copies on hand.
“I know how much you two love trying out the recipes,” said Kiko. Martha paid, shooting Buddy a loaded look. The brewmeister appeared somewhat embarrassed.
“Not trying out anything tonight,” he said. “Going over to Pasta La Vista for the Third Day of Mount Angus.”
“But we intend to be snowed in all weekend so we needed another batch of sauce recipes,” said Martha. Kiko met her wink with the best smile he could muster.
“You’re the drummers drumming, I heard,” said Kiko, wanting to change the subject. “Are you going to be displaying Cat’s art, too?”
“Well, yeah,” said Buddy. “Only too happy to promote her stuff. Hope this new place goes out of business.”
Kiko imagined that had Buddy had a bottle, he would have drank to that. He raised an eyebrow, curious.
“We don’t hear anything good about the place,” said Martha. Buddy scowled.
“The guy serves cheap beer.”
Kiko nodded, understanding. Buddy seemed to have a personal problem with anyone who did not enjoy his brews, especially anyone who would willingly choose something basic to drink. He decided not to mention that Dom was over there right now, drinking the cheap beer and trying to sketch a person.
“I’m sure Cat’s appreciative. Having her artists’ work at the brewery is bound to get her more business than usual.”
“It was Buddy Angus’ decision, too,” said Buddy, dead serious. Kiko nodded again in understanding. The brewmeister was still having a hard time letting go of his beloved cow. “Buddy’s ghost’s been hanging around recently. Indicated we could take down the memory wall for the art.”
Kiko flicked his gaze over to Martha, but she gave every indication she truly believed Buddy, so he didn’t question it.
“Good of Buddy Angus, too,” said Kiko. He resisted making a “spirit of the season” joke; he didn’t think it would go over well. “Have you gotten your art yet? I’m still waiting on mine.”
“Oh, I’m not worried yet,” said Buddy. “You and Dom coming to the beer unveiling on Sunday?”
“We’ll have samples and cookies,” said Martha.
“I suppose I can’t say no if I’m being personally invited,” said Kiko, smiling. He was glad they were no longer discussing the ghost of a cow. “We might be bringing a couple other people, too. My sister’s going to be in town then.”
“Bring everyone,” said Buddy. “We have a real treat in store. This could very well be my best bit of experimentation yet.” He paused to shoot a soppy look at Martha. “And all thanks to you, Martha.”
“Let’s get going,” she said, grabbing the cookbook. “We have a long weekend ahead and I want to start it out with an alfredo and one of your Muddy Angus beers. I love those almost as much as I love you.”
As soon as they left Kiko pulled out his phone to text Dom.
Martha and Buddy just left. I need to go home and shower.
See you there, responded Dom almost immediately. I need one, too.
* * * *