| General Fiction posted July 8, 2024 | Chapters: |
Prologue 1 -2- 3... 
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A murder and the will
A chapter in the book Unfinished Brushstrokes
Unfinished Brushstrokes Chap 2
by Begin Again
After answering the door, Megan returned to the study with a man on each arm. Her smile, reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat, was as sweet as honey as she read the business card. "Family, allow me to introduce Aunt Eleanor's esteemed lawyer, Craig Winslow, Senior Vice President of the law firm of Winslow & Sons."
Unaccustomed to such flamboyant entrances, particularly at a solemn event like a will reading, Craig's face flushed with embarrassment. In his late fifties, he was distinguished with a tall, lean build. He had a full head of silver hair, impeccably styled, and mahogany brown eyes. Thin, wire-rimmed glasses rested on his aquiline nose, revealing his Mediterranean ancestry. His tailored charcoal suit stated he was a no-nonsense man who got things done.
Dropping Craig's arm, Megan turned her full attention to the other man, Detective Matthew Donatelli. The contrast in their appearances was striking. While Craig's appearance declared himself a businessman, Donatelli's couldn't be more opposite. He was in his early thirties, with a muscular build that he maintained religiously. He had jet-black hair, slicked back in a style that screamed confidence, and green eyes that twinkled with mischief. His wardrobe consisted of a navy blue shirt with indigo, designer jeans, and a leather jacket, topped off by a pair of aviator sunglasses.
Megan smiled at her family. "And this fine specimen of a man is Detective Matthew Donatelli."
Craig Winslow walked across the room, set his briefcase on the small table, and opened it. Megan steered the detective toward the settee and patted the cushion beside her as she sank onto her side. "Please, Detective, sit by me."
Matthew squeezed Megan's hand and flashed his million-dollar smile. "As much as I would enjoy sitting beside you, duty requires me to stand in the back."
Megan's ruby-red, lacquered lips formed a sexy pout as the detective moved to the far side of the room.
Wasting no time, Craig Winslow cleared his throat and spoke to the family. "Before I address the will, I would like to say that I had the privilege of knowing Eleanor Bennett for most of my life. I met her when I was in grade school. She volunteered — sharing her talent and teaching them how to paint."
Trevor muttered, "Like the blind teaching the blind." Megan snickered behind her hand while Margaret glared at her son.
"Eleanor was a complicated person. She kept her life as an artist private without revealing it to anyone. I'm sure you were surprised by today's headlines."
"We're her family, and she didn't share such an important decision with us? Any of us would have been thankful for the money." Jonathan sneered, adding, "Let's just get this farce over. By the looks of this house, she can't have much else to give away."
Craig glanced at Donatelli, who nodded, giving the lawyer the go-ahead. "I'm sure you are wondering why Detective Donatelli is here today, so we might as well get it out of the way before we continue with the will."
The detective eased his way through the chairs, noting the disgruntled faces, and joined Mr. Winslow. "Shortly after her death, Mr. Winslow and the coroner notified me that Eleanor Bennett had a clause in her will requesting an autopsy after her death."
A few gasps were heard as Donatelli scanned the room for their reactions. Margaret was braver than most and muttered, "Leave it to my sister to play up her death. Full of secrets while she was alive and a drama queen after her death."
Megan sighed. "A waste of money. She was old and dying of cancer. What more could an autopsy tell you?"
"Actually, Miss Ashley, it told us much more than we expected. The coroner has conclusively stated that Eleanor Bennett did not die of natural causes. She was murdered."
Margaret screeched, "Murdered?" Her face turned ashen, far paler than her typical hue. She hadn't been prepared for that particular thunderbolt. The calm facade she'd been struggling to maintain cracked and crumbled.
Trevor jumped out of the chair he was lounging in, snarling, "What kind of trick are you trying to pull? Who would have murdered her and how?"
Audrey and Jackson, co-owners of the Bayside Art Gallery, had remained silent since the beginning of the gathering. Still, even they exchanged shocked looks of disbelief. Jackson leaned closer to his wife and whispered, "If nothing else, the value of her paintings will skyrocket."
Audrey's eyes widened as she shushed her husband. "Are you crazy? If someone hears you, they might think the gallery was involved."
"None of them even knew about us until today."
"You better hope not. You weren't discreet when you argued with Eleanor at the gallery the other day." The couple exchanged glares and belatedly checked to see if anyone had overheard them.
Craig Winslow and Donatelli exchanged glances as the room erupted in chaos. Craig raised his hand for silence and waited until the noise subsided. "Please, let us proceed calmly. I understand this news is shocking, but we must address it before we proceed with the contents of Mrs. Bennett's will."
Detective Donatelli stepped forward, his gaze steady and authoritative. "As I mentioned, the autopsy revealed that Mrs. Bennett did not die from her illness. The police department and coroner have determined that foul play was involved."
The murmurs in the room intensified, mixed with gasps of disbelief and concern.
"I understand this news is distressing, but rest assured, we are committed to uncovering the truth. I'll be taking statements from all of you."
"Statements! What for? Are you accusing one of us of killing her?" Feeling no pain thanks to the drugs in his system, Trevor charged toward the detective. "You have no right to come into this house and spread lies."
Ignoring Trevor's outburst, Detective Donatelli smiled. "I'm just doing my job. Mrs. Bennett did not die of natural causes, and an investigation is ongoing at this moment." His eyes met Trevor's glassy ones. "You have nothing to hide, do you?"
Trevor returned to his chair, muttering, "Let's just get this fiasco over with, can we?"
Megan laughed. "Chill, Trevor. Pop another pill and relax."
"Shut up, or I'll —"
"You'll what?" Megan's eyes sparkled with merriment. "Kill me?"
Margaret glared at her children. "Stop this nonsense now. Nobody killed or is going to kill anyone. We aren't animals."
Attorney Winslow cleared his throat. "Detective Donatelli will arrange times and places to contact each of you before you leave today." He looked at the detective for confirmation and then continued, "Now, shall we proceed with the reading of the will?"
Craig opened the papers in his briefcase, ready to disclose Eleanor Bennett's last wishes amidst the turmoil and uncertainty in the room.
"I want to thank you all for coming. As you know, Eleanor Bennett has left a will containing some—" He glanced nervously around the room. "There's some unexpected instructions and revelations. Eleanor felt things should be earned, not handed out freely without any expectations."
"I know it surprised most of you when you learned this morning that she painted under the name CJ Grey. Her paintings were widely acclaimed, and she has amassed a significant fortune through her artwork."
Gasps arose from every corner of the room.
"You've got to be kidding. She lived in this run-down house —" Jonathan ran his fingers across the windowsill. "Which has seen better days." He dramatically brushed his hands together, blowing off the dust. As he did so, he adjusted the curtain and watched the black SUV drive by again.
"My sister was rich? I couldn't care less about her secret life, but to keep the money a secret when she was well aware, she could have reached out and helped her family. Guess she wasn't the loving sister she pretended to be?"
Unable to listen to their mean and spiteful remarks anymore, Jenna stood and addressed them all. "Eleanor was the sweetest and kindest woman I've ever known. If she didn't share her secrets with you, then she had a reason."
Megan scoffed. "Bet you were one of them."
"We were friends, not because she had money. I shared her love for painting. We spent hours together, and I will be forever grateful for those times."
"I bet you will. How much did you shove in your pockets when the old woman wasn't looking?" Trevor snapped.
His words stung, and Jenna couldn't stop the tears from flowing. "I never —" She collapsed onto her chair, burying her face in her hands.
Having heard more than enough, Eleanor's invisible spirit floated across the room, knocking things over and emptying the bookshelf. Several books hit Jonathan, and a large vase toppled from a shelf, barely missing Trevor's head.
Amidst everyone's terrified screams and wide-eyed expressions of shock, Jonathan yelled, "Is the house collapsing?"
The detective wasn't sure what had happened, but he knew the house wasn't going anywhere. "It might have been a tremor."
Margaret scowled. "We don't get earthquakes around here." Eleanor shook her sister's chair, and another scream erupted from Margaret's mouth.
"Earthquakes can happen anywhere. Whatever it was, it's over now."
Eleanor, perched on the mantel, smiled and thought, "It's not over yet, not by a long shot." Her eyes shifted to Jenna, wanting to comfort her, but she knew she'd be exposing herself if she did.
*****
Rubbing his eyes, Craig Winslow waited for the commotion to subside, though whispering continued around the room. He'd expected some discontent, but not the fiasco he was witnessing. The terms of Eleanor's will told him she'd been well aware of how her family would react, except for her murder. Like Jenna, he couldn't imagine anyone hurting such a sweet, charming woman. However, Detective Donatelli had other thoughts.
"Could we get back to the reading of the will, please?" Craig waited a few moments, then continued, "Eleanor has left specific tasks for each of you to complete."
"Tasks?" Trevor snarled. "We aren't in school. Just give us the stuff and get it over with."
"Trevor, show a little tact, okay?" Jonathan snapped. "Your complaining isn't going to get this over any faster. Let him talk."
Megan chuckled. "Somebody's going to make you jump through hoops, and I can't wait to see it happen."
"I'm sure she has something planned for you as well." Trevor glared across the room at his sister.
Having had more than his fill of their colorful antics, Donatelli stepped closer to the lawyer. He slammed his fist on the table in his official interrogation voice and yelled, "Shut up, all of you! Let the man get this whole charade over with, and then you can moan over spilled milk after he's gone."
Everyone stared at him icily, but the room became quiet. The detective glanced around the room, smiling, and then nodded to the attorney. "Floor's yours."
Craig took a deep breath. "Thank you. As I said, Eleanor has left specific tasks for each of you to complete. These tasks are designed to promote personal growth and community involvement. I'll begin with —"
Unaccustomed to such flamboyant entrances, particularly at a solemn event like a will reading, Craig's face flushed with embarrassment. In his late fifties, he was distinguished with a tall, lean build. He had a full head of silver hair, impeccably styled, and mahogany brown eyes. Thin, wire-rimmed glasses rested on his aquiline nose, revealing his Mediterranean ancestry. His tailored charcoal suit stated he was a no-nonsense man who got things done.
Dropping Craig's arm, Megan turned her full attention to the other man, Detective Matthew Donatelli. The contrast in their appearances was striking. While Craig's appearance declared himself a businessman, Donatelli's couldn't be more opposite. He was in his early thirties, with a muscular build that he maintained religiously. He had jet-black hair, slicked back in a style that screamed confidence, and green eyes that twinkled with mischief. His wardrobe consisted of a navy blue shirt with indigo, designer jeans, and a leather jacket, topped off by a pair of aviator sunglasses.
Megan smiled at her family. "And this fine specimen of a man is Detective Matthew Donatelli."
Craig Winslow walked across the room, set his briefcase on the small table, and opened it. Megan steered the detective toward the settee and patted the cushion beside her as she sank onto her side. "Please, Detective, sit by me."
Matthew squeezed Megan's hand and flashed his million-dollar smile. "As much as I would enjoy sitting beside you, duty requires me to stand in the back."
Megan's ruby-red, lacquered lips formed a sexy pout as the detective moved to the far side of the room.
Wasting no time, Craig Winslow cleared his throat and spoke to the family. "Before I address the will, I would like to say that I had the privilege of knowing Eleanor Bennett for most of my life. I met her when I was in grade school. She volunteered — sharing her talent and teaching them how to paint."
Trevor muttered, "Like the blind teaching the blind." Megan snickered behind her hand while Margaret glared at her son.
"Eleanor was a complicated person. She kept her life as an artist private without revealing it to anyone. I'm sure you were surprised by today's headlines."
"We're her family, and she didn't share such an important decision with us? Any of us would have been thankful for the money." Jonathan sneered, adding, "Let's just get this farce over. By the looks of this house, she can't have much else to give away."
Craig glanced at Donatelli, who nodded, giving the lawyer the go-ahead. "I'm sure you are wondering why Detective Donatelli is here today, so we might as well get it out of the way before we continue with the will."
The detective eased his way through the chairs, noting the disgruntled faces, and joined Mr. Winslow. "Shortly after her death, Mr. Winslow and the coroner notified me that Eleanor Bennett had a clause in her will requesting an autopsy after her death."
A few gasps were heard as Donatelli scanned the room for their reactions. Margaret was braver than most and muttered, "Leave it to my sister to play up her death. Full of secrets while she was alive and a drama queen after her death."
Megan sighed. "A waste of money. She was old and dying of cancer. What more could an autopsy tell you?"
"Actually, Miss Ashley, it told us much more than we expected. The coroner has conclusively stated that Eleanor Bennett did not die of natural causes. She was murdered."
Margaret screeched, "Murdered?" Her face turned ashen, far paler than her typical hue. She hadn't been prepared for that particular thunderbolt. The calm facade she'd been struggling to maintain cracked and crumbled.
Trevor jumped out of the chair he was lounging in, snarling, "What kind of trick are you trying to pull? Who would have murdered her and how?"
Audrey and Jackson, co-owners of the Bayside Art Gallery, had remained silent since the beginning of the gathering. Still, even they exchanged shocked looks of disbelief. Jackson leaned closer to his wife and whispered, "If nothing else, the value of her paintings will skyrocket."
Audrey's eyes widened as she shushed her husband. "Are you crazy? If someone hears you, they might think the gallery was involved."
"None of them even knew about us until today."
"You better hope not. You weren't discreet when you argued with Eleanor at the gallery the other day." The couple exchanged glares and belatedly checked to see if anyone had overheard them.
Detective Donatelli stepped forward, his gaze steady and authoritative. "As I mentioned, the autopsy revealed that Mrs. Bennett did not die from her illness. The police department and coroner have determined that foul play was involved."
The murmurs in the room intensified, mixed with gasps of disbelief and concern.
"I understand this news is distressing, but rest assured, we are committed to uncovering the truth. I'll be taking statements from all of you."
"Statements! What for? Are you accusing one of us of killing her?" Feeling no pain thanks to the drugs in his system, Trevor charged toward the detective. "You have no right to come into this house and spread lies."
Ignoring Trevor's outburst, Detective Donatelli smiled. "I'm just doing my job. Mrs. Bennett did not die of natural causes, and an investigation is ongoing at this moment." His eyes met Trevor's glassy ones. "You have nothing to hide, do you?"
Trevor returned to his chair, muttering, "Let's just get this fiasco over with, can we?"
Megan laughed. "Chill, Trevor. Pop another pill and relax."
"Shut up, or I'll —"
"You'll what?" Megan's eyes sparkled with merriment. "Kill me?"
Margaret glared at her children. "Stop this nonsense now. Nobody killed or is going to kill anyone. We aren't animals."
Attorney Winslow cleared his throat. "Detective Donatelli will arrange times and places to contact each of you before you leave today." He looked at the detective for confirmation and then continued, "Now, shall we proceed with the reading of the will?"
Craig opened the papers in his briefcase, ready to disclose Eleanor Bennett's last wishes amidst the turmoil and uncertainty in the room.
"I want to thank you all for coming. As you know, Eleanor Bennett has left a will containing some—" He glanced nervously around the room. "There's some unexpected instructions and revelations. Eleanor felt things should be earned, not handed out freely without any expectations."
"I know it surprised most of you when you learned this morning that she painted under the name CJ Grey. Her paintings were widely acclaimed, and she has amassed a significant fortune through her artwork."
Gasps arose from every corner of the room.
"You've got to be kidding. She lived in this run-down house —" Jonathan ran his fingers across the windowsill. "Which has seen better days." He dramatically brushed his hands together, blowing off the dust. As he did so, he adjusted the curtain and watched the black SUV drive by again.
"My sister was rich? I couldn't care less about her secret life, but to keep the money a secret when she was well aware, she could have reached out and helped her family. Guess she wasn't the loving sister she pretended to be?"
Unable to listen to their mean and spiteful remarks anymore, Jenna stood and addressed them all. "Eleanor was the sweetest and kindest woman I've ever known. If she didn't share her secrets with you, then she had a reason."
Megan scoffed. "Bet you were one of them."
"We were friends, not because she had money. I shared her love for painting. We spent hours together, and I will be forever grateful for those times."
"I bet you will. How much did you shove in your pockets when the old woman wasn't looking?" Trevor snapped.
His words stung, and Jenna couldn't stop the tears from flowing. "I never —" She collapsed onto her chair, burying her face in her hands.
Having heard more than enough, Eleanor's invisible spirit floated across the room, knocking things over and emptying the bookshelf. Several books hit Jonathan, and a large vase toppled from a shelf, barely missing Trevor's head.
Amidst everyone's terrified screams and wide-eyed expressions of shock, Jonathan yelled, "Is the house collapsing?"
The detective wasn't sure what had happened, but he knew the house wasn't going anywhere. "It might have been a tremor."
Margaret scowled. "We don't get earthquakes around here." Eleanor shook her sister's chair, and another scream erupted from Margaret's mouth.
"Earthquakes can happen anywhere. Whatever it was, it's over now."
Eleanor, perched on the mantel, smiled and thought, "It's not over yet, not by a long shot." Her eyes shifted to Jenna, wanting to comfort her, but she knew she'd be exposing herself if she did.
*****
Rubbing his eyes, Craig Winslow waited for the commotion to subside, though whispering continued around the room. He'd expected some discontent, but not the fiasco he was witnessing. The terms of Eleanor's will told him she'd been well aware of how her family would react, except for her murder. Like Jenna, he couldn't imagine anyone hurting such a sweet, charming woman. However, Detective Donatelli had other thoughts.
"Could we get back to the reading of the will, please?" Craig waited a few moments, then continued, "Eleanor has left specific tasks for each of you to complete."
"Tasks?" Trevor snarled. "We aren't in school. Just give us the stuff and get it over with."
"Trevor, show a little tact, okay?" Jonathan snapped. "Your complaining isn't going to get this over any faster. Let him talk."
Megan chuckled. "Somebody's going to make you jump through hoops, and I can't wait to see it happen."
"I'm sure she has something planned for you as well." Trevor glared across the room at his sister.
Having had more than his fill of their colorful antics, Donatelli stepped closer to the lawyer. He slammed his fist on the table in his official interrogation voice and yelled, "Shut up, all of you! Let the man get this whole charade over with, and then you can moan over spilled milk after he's gone."
Everyone stared at him icily, but the room became quiet. The detective glanced around the room, smiling, and then nodded to the attorney. "Floor's yours."
Craig took a deep breath. "Thank you. As I said, Eleanor has left specific tasks for each of you to complete. These tasks are designed to promote personal growth and community involvement. I'll begin with —"
 Recognized |
Margaret Ashley - Eleanor's sister
Megan Ashley - Margaret's daughter
Trevor Ashley - Margaret's son
Jonathon Williams - Eleanor's brother
Audrey and Jackson Mayfield - Art Gallery Owners
Craig Winslow - Attorney
Matthew Donatelli - Detective
Jenna Bradford - neighbor and close friend and confidanct of Eleanor Bennett
Charles Weldon - a memory from the past
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