Read Online Diva 03 _ Diva Paints the Town, The by Krista Davis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Krista Davis
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Murder, Dwellings, Winston; Sophie (Fictitious Character)
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could serve as a gorgeous playhouse or studio, though.
I understood why Ted intercepted me when I saw a woman with hair the color of black cherries striding toward us, pointing and jabbing a finger at Ted. Her hair feathered around her face, super short, but she had the bone structure for it. The daring color emphasized her pale skin. But her dark eyes blazed, and I suspected she wasn’t someone I would want to tangle with.
“Ted, I swear if that water comes one inch closer to my wall, so help me, I’ll tear down your fancy little house—fish scale by fish scale.”
Ted introduced her as Posey Powell.
She gave me a distracted nod, then turned to me with new interest, as if she’d just realized who I was. In a sweet drawl that sounded more like Mississippi than Virginia, she said, “Isn’t that just like you, Ted. Already kissing up to the woman who organized the show.” Flashing a gorgeous toothy smile at me, she added, “Don’t let him fool you. If that pond of his leaks any more water, you’ll have a major mess on your hands, and I won’t be the only angry exhibitor.”
“Posey, darlin’, Sophie was just coming to help me.” Ted looked at me hopefully. I walked toward his exhibit with them while he insisted that the water hadn’t done any damage yet. But Ted wasn’t helping things by rolling his eyes every time Posey opened her mouth. “Don’t mind Posey,” he whispered. “We’ve known each other since college. She likes to play the excited drama queen.”
Posey whipped around. “I heard that, Ted. If I were swinging a wrecking ball near your little glass house, you’d be plenty agitated.”
When we arrived at Ted’s exhibit, I understood Posey’s concern. Ted had built a clever water feature. Since he couldn’t dig into the convention hall floor, he’d constructed a large frame and lined it with a sheet of thick plastic. He’d cleverly hidden the frame with rocks and plants, tucked lights around the edges underwater, and added golden koi to his pond. But on the side closest to Posey’s exhibit, water seeped out. Hardly a flood, but it rolled steadily in the direction of her booth.
Ted asked me to hold the edge of the black plastic liner while he searched for the source of the leak.
While Ted patched the plastic, I held the liner and arched back for a peek at Posey’s booth. An accomplished artist, Posey had used trompe l’oeil techniques to transform her area into a wine cellar. I’d noticed her remarkable room during my morning walks through the exhibits. A dark side wall appeared to open to a writing nook with an antique desk lighted by candles. The sun shone through faux open doors on the back wall, which featured a view of a charming vineyard so authentic that I felt I could walk into the image. She’d even painted a cloth that covered the floor. It looked exactly like a stone floor with an Oriental carpet carelessly tossed on top of it with one corner flipped over.
I couldn’t see to whom she was speaking, but Posey’s irritated voice came through loud and clear. “I don’t care if he hears me. In fact, I hope he does. He can’t just steamroll through life oblivious to other people. He didn’t spend days painting this floor cloth, so he doesn’t care if it’s ruined. Do you know how many people can build a glass house like that? Besides, who wants a detached bedroom without a bathroom? It’s nothing but a ridiculous indulgence.”
“Sophie.” Someone poked me in the shoulder. The voice came from behind me, soft, almost a whisper. “Sophie, she’s here.” I turned to find Humphrey, pale as the corpses he handled. Under the harsh lights, his fair hair seemed almost translucent. I tried to appear glad to see him but hoped he wouldn’t press me about his mystery woman right now.
His eyebrows met in an endearing wistful expression. “She’s perfect. Beautiful and smart. And she’s here! You can invite her to dinner.”
Oy. Like I didn’t have enough on my
I understood why Ted intercepted me when I saw a woman with hair the color of black cherries striding toward us, pointing and jabbing a finger at Ted. Her hair feathered around her face, super short, but she had the bone structure for it. The daring color emphasized her pale skin. But her dark eyes blazed, and I suspected she wasn’t someone I would want to tangle with.
“Ted, I swear if that water comes one inch closer to my wall, so help me, I’ll tear down your fancy little house—fish scale by fish scale.”
Ted introduced her as Posey Powell.
She gave me a distracted nod, then turned to me with new interest, as if she’d just realized who I was. In a sweet drawl that sounded more like Mississippi than Virginia, she said, “Isn’t that just like you, Ted. Already kissing up to the woman who organized the show.” Flashing a gorgeous toothy smile at me, she added, “Don’t let him fool you. If that pond of his leaks any more water, you’ll have a major mess on your hands, and I won’t be the only angry exhibitor.”
“Posey, darlin’, Sophie was just coming to help me.” Ted looked at me hopefully. I walked toward his exhibit with them while he insisted that the water hadn’t done any damage yet. But Ted wasn’t helping things by rolling his eyes every time Posey opened her mouth. “Don’t mind Posey,” he whispered. “We’ve known each other since college. She likes to play the excited drama queen.”
Posey whipped around. “I heard that, Ted. If I were swinging a wrecking ball near your little glass house, you’d be plenty agitated.”
When we arrived at Ted’s exhibit, I understood Posey’s concern. Ted had built a clever water feature. Since he couldn’t dig into the convention hall floor, he’d constructed a large frame and lined it with a sheet of thick plastic. He’d cleverly hidden the frame with rocks and plants, tucked lights around the edges underwater, and added golden koi to his pond. But on the side closest to Posey’s exhibit, water seeped out. Hardly a flood, but it rolled steadily in the direction of her booth.
Ted asked me to hold the edge of the black plastic liner while he searched for the source of the leak.
While Ted patched the plastic, I held the liner and arched back for a peek at Posey’s booth. An accomplished artist, Posey had used trompe l’oeil techniques to transform her area into a wine cellar. I’d noticed her remarkable room during my morning walks through the exhibits. A dark side wall appeared to open to a writing nook with an antique desk lighted by candles. The sun shone through faux open doors on the back wall, which featured a view of a charming vineyard so authentic that I felt I could walk into the image. She’d even painted a cloth that covered the floor. It looked exactly like a stone floor with an Oriental carpet carelessly tossed on top of it with one corner flipped over.
I couldn’t see to whom she was speaking, but Posey’s irritated voice came through loud and clear. “I don’t care if he hears me. In fact, I hope he does. He can’t just steamroll through life oblivious to other people. He didn’t spend days painting this floor cloth, so he doesn’t care if it’s ruined. Do you know how many people can build a glass house like that? Besides, who wants a detached bedroom without a bathroom? It’s nothing but a ridiculous indulgence.”
“Sophie.” Someone poked me in the shoulder. The voice came from behind me, soft, almost a whisper. “Sophie, she’s here.” I turned to find Humphrey, pale as the corpses he handled. Under the harsh lights, his fair hair seemed almost translucent. I tried to appear glad to see him but hoped he wouldn’t press me about his mystery woman right now.
His eyebrows met in an endearing wistful expression. “She’s perfect. Beautiful and smart. And she’s here! You can invite her to dinner.”
Oy. Like I didn’t have enough on my
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