Banana Muffins & Mayhem by Janel Gradowski Page B

fatal guest appearance had deeply affected the usually jovial calligrapher when Amy had signed up for the class. If Aubergine was still feeling down, she was doing a good job at masking it. Although, it would be difficult to appear sad while wearing a lemon-yellow dress and a headband covered with miniature silk daisies.
    "I can't wait to start." Amy looked around the room to see if she knew any of the other students. Nobody seemed familiar at first, but then she looked closer at the woman sitting at the far end of the second row. It was Detective Foster. She was engrossed in something on her phone. It had never occurred to Amy that a serious detective would have an interest in making art. But it made sense. Hobbies were a great way to relieve stress. Pursuing killers was definitely stressful.
    Before she could convince herself that it was a bad idea, Amy plopped into the chair at the desk beside the detective. As she stowed her purse under the chair, she thought of something else. What if the police officer wasn't pursuing a new hobby? She could be working undercover to observe a suspect. Could she be investigating Aubergine? Amy looked around the room. Or maybe the detective was checking out one of the other students.
    The most likely possible murder suspect was walking between the desks, passing out sheets of thick paper. Did Aubergine know that the head investigator for the murder which the artist felt so badly about was one of her students? If she did, she was doing a great job pretending that Foster was just another student.
    Amy was still trying to figure out if the police officer's interest in calligraphy was purely recreational or work-related when the class began. For the first half hour, she split her time between concentrating on Aubergine's instructions and trying to decide whether she should say anything to Detective Foster. Every time Amy glanced at her seating neighbor, she seemed to be completely engrossed in forming fancy letters instead of checking out their classmates. If she was also forming opinions on anybody in the classroom or recognized Amy from the murder scene, she was hiding it well under a thick layer of disinterest mixed with dedicated concentration.
    Being able to not broadcast every emotion through facial expressions was a technique that Amy had yet to master. Whom was she kidding? She had problems hiding her emotions ninety percent of the time. That wasn't even close to mastering control over her telltale features. Her face muscles were hardwired to her thoughts. A person didn't need to be a body language expert to figure out what she was really thinking, especially when she was under stress.
    "You all have been concentrating so hard, creating beautiful letters. You deserve a snack." Aubergine turned off the light on the retro-style overhead projector she was using to demonstrate the writing strokes. "There is water, iced tea, and a few snacks at the back of the room."
    Amy had been aware of somebody entering and exiting the room behind her. But she was so lost in the maze of thoughts blitzing around her mind, she hadn't paid attention to who it was. Apparently, it had been Chuck delivering the refreshments.
    The detective, turned astute student, stood and stretched her arms over her head. As she reached toward the ceiling, her gaze locked on Amy. Her right eyelid twitched. "Hello. Have you been sitting next to me since the class began?"
    Amy didn't know if she should be relieved to have someone with such an intense focus working on the murder. Or should she be wary that Detective Foster had been oblivious for over half an hour that the person who found the dead body in her first case was sitting two feet away from her? Or what if she was just pretending to be clueless? The possibilities were as endless as a buffet in Las Vegas. And Foster was the unlabeled mystery sushi. Amy nodded. "I came in right before class started. You seemed to be interested in something on your phone."
    "That happens