Looking for Midnight

by Helen Chappell

Sculptor Jane Constant is artist-in-residence at Green Gardens, an ancient seaside mansion turned artist’s colony. This summer’s crop of eccentrics and other creative types include the handsome actor Gabriel Hardy rehearsing for Hamlet, the stoner musician Dink Sheldrake with an opera to write, the alcoholic abstract impressionist Ted Mitran and Midnight Bunting, a retired madam who wants to spend her summer writing a tell all memoir about her rich and famous clients. Then there’s politically ambitious next door neighbor Barbara Barkley, who wants Green Gardens closed down as a disgrace to the upscale seaside community and a Chief of Police who’s interested in more than Jane’s art. When Midnight Bunting is found dead in Gabriel Hardy’s bed, suspicion falls on everyone, and things look desperate for the continued existence of the beloved old artist’s colony. . .

ISBN 978-1-61386-036-6 Mystery, murder, women's fiction,

CHAPTER 1

JANE CONSTANT

New Works

POLLY CROCKETT GALLERY EAST

Castle Island

June 5—July 31st

Opening June 5, 5-8 PM

By invitation only

POLLY CROCKETT GALLERIES

New York and Castle Island

CHAPTER 2

“But dearest, yours is the opening of the summer!” Gallerista Polly Crockett, soignée in leather and dreads, swanned through the crowds to embrace Jane Constant. “Lookee, lookee, darling, all the little red stickers? You’re selling, selling tonight! And it’s only the opening!”

Jane glanced around the gallery at her sculptures, then took a giant swig of Cristal. “I can’t believe you sold Big Pink! I thought that thing would never move out of the corner of my studio.”

“Trust Aunt Polly, darling heart. The very latest wife of Dr. Barenstein snapped it right up. Maybe it reminds her of where her husband’s money comes from. It does look like a giant breast implant. And all the money that paid for it is walking on half the chests in here. No wonder they call him Boobenstein. You can tell his implants from across the room.”

Jane grinned. “One of the many reasons I love being in your galleries is that you have a totally irreverent sense of humor, Polly.”

“And you were right—opening a summer gallery out here was the smartest move I’ve made since I signed up Wally Stubbs.”

“Who knew puke paintings on vinyl siding would be so hot?” Jane mused. “And when I told you Castle Island was going to be the new Hamptons, I’m glad you listened. With a show here in the summer and a show at your SoHo gallery in the winter, I’m breaking even for the first time in my career.”

“It’s a win-win situation, darling heart,” Polly agreed. She squirmed a little inside her skimpy leather top.

“Jesus, this outfit is hotter than a crotch. Still, dear Alexander McQueen made it just for me, so it’s a sort of a memento mori.”

“Keep smiling, Poll. You look divine, just like a major art diva should. Besides, think of all the pounds you’re sweating off inside that pelt. It will mean one less workout with that personal trainer of yours!”

“Workouts aren’t the reason I keep him around, dearest,” Polly shot out of the side of her mouth.