Heritage of Darkness

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Authors: Kathleen Ernst
Tags: Mystery
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know,” Gwen muttered, as if reading Chloe’s thoughts. She
    handed over several clean brushes. “Here you go.”
    “Thanks.” Chloe carefully settled the brushes, wooden ends
    down, in her jar of rice. She tried not to linger on the fact that Gwen had cleaned three brushes in less time than it was taking her to do one. “I really appreciate it.”
    “No problem.” Gwen pushed her chair back. “See you tomor-
    row.”
    Chloe got back to work. She didn’t notice Mom passing by
    until she spoke: “Gently, Chloe. We must protect our brushes.”
    Yeah, yeah, Chloe thought. For once, she didn’t take the criti-
    cism to heart. Her mind was too focused on the painful image of
    Petra selecting a trunk, spending hundreds of hours planning and
    54
    preparing and painting, with no way of knowing that six months
    later …
    Chloe wiped her brush one last time, decided to ignore the
    remaining wisp of red, and set it aside. Everyone seemed to agree
    that Petra Lekstrom had not been well-liked. But had someone
    hated her enough to plan such a brutally ironic attack?
    55
    seven
    Time to am-scray, Chloe thought. Brushes clean and paint pro-
    tected, she jogged down the stairs to meet Roelke. He met her with a smile and a kiss, and the combination smoothed out the afternoon’s rough edges.
    “Here’s the stuff from Hoff.” Roelke held out some files and a
    microcassette recorder.
    She slipped them into her totebag. “Thanks.”
    “Did you plan to eat dinner at Sigrid’s house?”
    “No.” Chloe shrugged into her parka. “I’ve already had eight
    hours of my mother’s company today, and very little of yours. Is
    Emil expecting you?”
    “No,” Roelke echoed. “I was hoping I’d have a date tonight. I
    hear there’s a good pizza place nearby.”
    “Mabe’s,” Chloe confirmed. “Let’s go.”
    When settled into a booth at the restaurant, with BBQ pizza
    for Roelke and veggie pizza for her on the way, Chloe felt her tense muscles begin to relax. “How was your afternoon?”
    56
    “Great!” Roelke said again, with the same surprised-but-
    pleased smile he’d displayed at lunchtime. “Emil’s a good instruc-
    tor.”
    “Did you start on a project?”
    He shook his head. “We’re working on practice boards.”
    “I wish we could have practiced more,” Chloe said wistfully.
    “Mom made us start on a wooden tray.”
    “Well, here’s something to take your mind off painting. I over-
    heard Hoff telling his daughter, who evidently wanted to fly out
    from California after she heard about Petra’s murder, to stay
    home.”
    “Really? I would have thought he’d be thrilled to have his
    daughter come visit.”
    “Me too.”
    “I heard something interesting about Petra this afternoon …”
    She frowned as Roelke pulled out a stack of index cards so he
    could make notes. “Do you have to do that? It makes it all so—so
    official.”
    “Since a woman was killed yesterday, yeah, I do. You were say-
    ing?”
    Chloe told Roelke that Petra had won her medal for painting
    an antique immigrant trunk. “Isn’t that creepy?”
    “It is,” he admitted. “I’ll—oh, thanks.” Before continuing he
    made room for the pizza a young waiter delivered. “I’ll make sure
    the chief knows that.”
    Chloe leaned forward on her elbows so she could whisper. “Do
    you think somebody might have … you know, actually planned to attack Petra and stuff her body into an immigrant trunk? Was
    someone trying to make a statement?”
    57
    “A statement about what?”
    “About the Gold Medal she earned last summer.” Chloe took
    her first bite of pizza and was momentarily distracted. “Oh my
    God, this is good. They must use Wisconsin cheese.”
    “I imagine that a few people in Iowa make good cheese, too.”
    “It’s possible, I suppose,” she mumbled around another bite.
    She wiped her mouth before getting back to the point. “Petra Lek-
    strom and Violet Sorensen were both close to winning a medal.
    Evidently a

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