Page 57 of Proof

“No. I literally just found out a few minutes before you walked in.”

“Hmm. I see.” Ellie sat down again and placed the brewing tonic in front of Luna. She was about to suggest a diversion. “I’ve been thinking more about my idea of showcasing indigenous art for the holidays. But I need an ambassador.”

Luna looked up. “What do you mean?”

“I was wondering if you would like to take a trip to Sedona. On me, of course. You’ve visited Tlaquepaque, haven’t you?”

Luna’s mood began to change. “Oh yes. It’s spectacular.”

“Truth be told, I was inspired by it, and the Torpedo Factory, which is how Stillwell was created.”

The two began discussing how the artisan village came into being. In the early 1970s, Abe Miller, a Nevada businessman, visited Sedona often. At that time, the city had only one traffic light, and Abe spent many vacations there. He particularly loved the many acres of a sycamore grove located at the south of 89A next to the bridge to Oak Creek. The property was owned by Harry and Ruby Girard, and after two years of coaxing, he persuaded them to sell it to him.

Miller was a real estate developer and a lover of Mexican art. He was a visionary, and his vision was to create a living artist community. He hired Bob McIntyre, a well-known architect who was keen on helping Miller bring his vision to life. They spent months traveling through rural villages in Mexico, taking photos and drawing sketches. The plans were fluid, changing from day to day as the Spanish Colonial complex came to life. It was a combination of tradition and innovation with a natural, organic feel. The patios, courtyard, plazas, and tiled walls were built by amateur artisans, which contributed to the authenticity of the design.

Miller also insisted the trees remain, and everything be built around them. Today, the sycamores still grew within the structures, including one in the Rowe Fine Art Gallery that twisted through the roof.

“The atrium is a nod to Miller’s intentions of incorporating landscaping with art.” Ellie smiled. “You see, I am not the brilliant visionary everyone thinks I am.”

“Oh, but you are,” Luna protested. “You truly combined the inspirations of both art centers here.”

“True. I was inspired by their inspirations.”

“Isn’t that what inspiration is supposed to do? Inspire others?” Luna’s face finally brightened.

“Indeed.” Ellie patted Luna’s hand. “So what do you think about my idea? I’d like you to go to Sedona and speak to some of the artists who create ornaments there. I’m thinking perhaps five or six artists, if there are that many who can contribute. I haven’t been there since we broke ground here, so I’m not entirely sure what’s available. That’s why I’d like you to be my scout. Take a week?”

Luna blinked several times. “Oh, that would be wonderful. I have a very good friend from college who lives there now. We keep talking about getting together, so this would be perfect.” She hugged Ellie. “Thank you. Thank you for your confidence in me.”

“Of course. You are a very creative woman. You also have very good instincts.”

“Yeah. Sometimes.” Luna gathered all the wadded-up napkins and tossed them in the trash. “When do you want me to go?”

“Whatever fits your schedule. Sometime within the next month?”

“I’ll check with Chris, Cullen, and Chi-Chi and see what they have going on.” She sat back down and whispered in Ellie’s ear, “I have to ask Cullen to . . .” She bobbed her head toward Wylie. The dog looked up at her. “Yes, I’m talking about you.”

“Excellent. I’m sure either Sabrina or Lucy can cover for you.”

“Good.” Luna looked down at her phone. It was as if Brendan was looking right at her. She turned the phone over. “I’ll also have to check with Gail to see what her schedule is like.”

“Well, then, we have the beginning of a plan.” Ellie got up. “I need to get back to work. Try to take it easy for the rest of the day. You’ve had quite a shock.” Ellie gave Luna a hug and Wylie a pat on the head.

“Thanks, Ellie.” Luna gave her a weary smile, but at least her lips were turning in the right direction. Luna walked out with Ellie and headed for the ladies’ room. Fortunately, the center was closed to the public, so she didn’t have to be concerned about how she looked. She knew she was a mess.

She splashed cold water on her face. It felt good but did nothing to mask her red, swollen eyes and nose. She gripped the edge of the long slate vanity and shoved her face close to the mirror. “Geez. This is the second time in a week you look like you went through the spin cycle of a washing machine.” She dabbed her face with a few paper towels. Maybe she should go home. Take the rest of the day off. Leave the coffee machine on, so anyone who was working could help themselves. Cullen could check on it before the end of his workday.

“Get a grip.” She stood up straight and scrutinized her face again. “Maybe a makeover can shift this heavy energy.” She thought about the question mark on her easel. Was Brendan’s death the question? That made sense, because there was no answer. She took a few deep cleansing breaths and returned to her shop.

Luna sat in front of her large drawing pad, shut her eyes, and began to sketch. When she opened them, she found a rudimentary drawing of a boat. It was like something a child would draw. “Now what does this mean?” She didn’t know anyone with a boat.

It had been about an hour since her meltdown. Luna thought she looked respectable enough to interact with other humans and walked to Cullen’s workshop.

“You again?” he teased, until he noticed how blotchy her face was. “You okay?”

“No. I am not okay.” Luna started to sniffle again. She pulled out her phone and showed Cullen the infinitesimal acknowledgement of her friend’s death.

“Oh, Lu. I am so sorry.” He put his arms around her. “What happened?”

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