The Missing Masterpiece Murder: An Emma Anders Cozy Mystery (An Emma Anders Mystery) by Annie Hudson

Author:Annie Hudson [Hudson, Annie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Annie Hudson Books
Published: 2024-02-28T00:00:00+00:00

The Other Parent

Preston watched Emma's expression change from confusion to disbelief as the weight of his revelation sank in. He watched as emotions brewed in her eyes, and he braced himself for her reaction.

"My—my mother?" Emma whispered her voice barely audible.

Emma took a step back, as if needing physical space to process this newfound information.

“Darling, please,” Frances touched her, but she pulled away like she was about to be stung.

Emma's mind raced, trying to reconcile the image of the woman in the painting with the mother she never knew.

She turned to Preston. "You know, just when it feels like my life is starting to make a tiny bit of sense again, this house drops another bomb.”

“I didn’t plan this, Emma. I have no control over this crazy canvas. But it does seem to be trying to tell us something.” Preston responded.

Lizzie barked softly and Frances turned toward her.

“We cannot afford to have the guests come down here. If they see this self-painting canvas, the place will become a circus instead of a bed and breakfast." Frances said, lovingly.

Emma retreated upstairs, taking Lizzie with her. Frances examined the painting more closely. Her eyes fell to the pendant dangling from the woman's neck. Something seemed not quite right. She noticed that the background was the Blue Ridge mountains, but nothing distinct about exactly where in the range it was. There was a dark spot on the section that stretched above the town of Boone- but she wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be there or if it was just a drip of paint.

Frances was tired so she took a picture of the portrait fearing it would be gone in the morning and retreated to the second floor for some much-needed rest. Emma and Lizzie were already sleeping soundly when she entered the room. It would be two or three more hours before Frances would fall asleep.

The next morning, Emma and Frances busied themselves in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the guests.

Emma barely spoke a word to Frances and ignored Preston’s floating figure as best as she could.

She tried to focus on getting the pancake batter as fluffy as possible, grilling the sausages, and preventing Lizzie from knocking over the bottle of maple syrup on the buffet.

Frances was a good sport as always, so good that by the time breakfast was done, Emma felt her resentment toward Frances melt away.

“You know that I am so mad at you for making me go down into that stupid basement,” she said to Frances as they moved the plates of food to the table. “If we had just gone to sleep – that whole portrait might never have been made. I really didn’t need to ‘see’ her. I just made things worse.”

Frances sighed. “I am well aware, dear, and I can’t say I don’t deserve this. I wish the darn thing had never been painted.”

“What thing?” Peter asked. He walked into the dining room from the stairs with a smile plastered on his face. Behind him were the other guests.

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