Софи Келли - Faux Paw

“Yes, she is,” I said, smiling back at him. “Thank you.”

“What about you, Kathleen?” he asked. “Do you act?”

I shook my head. “I’m afraid the talent gene skipped me.” I speared a forkful of arugula. “You clearly enjoy the theater. Have you done any acting?”

“I’ve played the role of Big Jule in Guys and Dolls ,” he said. I noticed that he sat up a little straighter as he said the words.

“It’s one of my favorite musicals,” I said. That was true. I’d loved watching my dad rehearse his role as Sky Masterson and I really could do the choreography for “Luck Be a Lady.”

I gave Julian McCrea a quick once-over. “I can see you as Big Jule,” I said.

He patted his midsection. “I do have the ‘big’ part.”

“I was thinking more that you have the presence to play the role. It’s very easy for the character to turn into a caricature.” That was also true. I’d heard my mother express her dissatisfaction with the way the part had been cast a couple of times because the director had turned Big Jule into comic relief instead of using him to move the story forward.

We spent the rest of the meal talking about musical theater. Gavin didn’t say a word. When the waiter arrived with the bill, discreetly presented inside a small black folder, he indicated with a flick of his gaze that it should be given to him.

“Thank you, my friend,” McCrea said.

“Thank you for taking the time to talk to us,” Gavin replied.

The art dealer turned to me. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of any help to you. I can promise you that no one is shopping that missing drawing around this area. If someone were, I would know. Unfortunately, you’re just going to have to take my word for that.”

“It’s good enough for me,” I said.

I hesitated. McCrea must have seen the uncertainty in my face. “Is there something else, Kathleen?” he asked.

“The name Devin Rossi has . . . come up in the investigation,” I said, hoping I’d chosen my words wisely.

He turned his head to look at Gavin for a moment before bringing his attention back to me. “Interesting,” was all he said.

“She acquires art for her customers.”

The big man tented his fingers over his midsection. “You’re very diplomatic,” he said, an amused expression on his face.

“My mother always says you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar,” I countered. I didn’t add that she also said you could get the best result by spreading a little bull around.

“I’ll put out a few discreet inquiries,” he said. “If I find out anything I’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate that.”

He pushed back his cuff, glanced at his watch and then got to his feet. Gavin and I did the same. McCrea took my hand in both of his. “It’s truly been a pleasure to meet you, Kathleen,” he said. “I hope to see you again.”

I smiled. “I’d like that.”

“It’s always good to see you, Gavin,” the big man said, reaching for his hat.

They shook hands and McCrea headed for the door.

Gavin flashed a credit card to the waiter, who had been hovering nearby. “He plays his cards very close to the vest, but you made a good impression on him. He may very well ask around.”

“Good,” I said.

He gave me a sidelong glance. “You played him like a five-string banjo.”

I shook my head. “We both like the theater. I meant everything I said. I’m guessing he’s very good in the role of Big Jule.” I pulled out my cell phone. “You tried to play me, though.”

I’d half expected him to deny it, but he didn’t. He gave me his “I’ve been a naughty boy” smile. “I knew Big Jule would be a lot more responsive to your charms than mine. And like you said, you both like the theater.”

“You knew if you just came and asked him directly if he knew anything, he wouldn’t tell you.”

He nodded. “I told you, he doesn’t show his hand for any reason.”

He pulled his car keys out of his pocket. His expression went from lighthearted to serious then. “Kathleen, I liked Margo. It was my job to keep the exhibit and anyone involved with it safe. Now it’s my job to find out what went wrong.”

“That’s a job for the police,” I said, not unaware of the irony that I was the one saying those words.

“From what I’ve heard you don’t always follow your own advice,” he said.

“Do you think Julian can help?”

Gavin’s mouth twisted to one side. “Truth? I don’t know. I do know that he knows the art world in this part of the country better than anyone else.”

“I guess we’ll just have to keep our fingers crossed,” I said. I held up my phone. “I just need to make a quick call.”

Gavin nodded. “I’ll wait for you at the car.”

Marcus answered on the second ring. “How was lunch?” he asked. “Did you learn anything?”

“Just that Julian McCrea is a fan of my mother and as far as he’s heard, no one is trying to sell the Weston drawing and no one had been putting out feelers about the piece before it was stolen.”

“You’re on your way back now.”

“Uh-huh.” I could see Gavin standing next to the car, talking on his own cell. “We’re just about to leave.”

“Can you stop at the library when you get here?” he asked.

“I can do that,” I said slowly. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was in his voice that told me he’d found something, but somehow I knew he had. “What’s going on?”

I heard voices in the background. “I’ll explain when you get here,” he said. “I have to go. See you soon.”

He was gone. I put my phone in my bag and headed outside.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that once we were back in Mayville Heights, things were going to get a lot more complicated.

13

Gavin asked me more about my family on the drive back. I noticed that when I tried to steer the conversation into his personal life he’d deftly move it back to me, the way he had when I questioned him about being rebellious.

I hadn’t told him about my conversation with Marcus. When we turned off the highway he glanced at me. “Where can I drop you?” he asked.

“The library, please,” I said. “

Gavin nodded as the car hugged the curve of the exit ramp. “I’ll come with you. I did promise your detective I’d report in.”

In the parking lot of the library I recognized the car Hope and Marcus used when they worked together. Gavin followed me up the steps to the building. The first set of doors was unlocked and the old-fashioned wrought-iron security gates were also open. I tapped on the inside door and after a moment Hope came to let me in.

“Hi,” she said. “Marcus said you were on your way. You made good time.”

“And stuck to the speed limit, Detective,” Gavin said. “More or less.” His eyebrows went up and a small smile played on his face.

Hope rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Why do I think it was less rather than more?”

Marcus was standing by the circulation desk. He smiled as he caught sight of me and I couldn’t help smiling back as I walked over to him. Curtis Holt was doing a circuit of the exhibit area, checking the windows—part of his security guard duties, I guessed.

“Before you ask, we didn’t find out anything useful,” Gavin said.

I turned to look at him over my shoulder. “Yes, we did,” I said. I shifted my gaze to Hope and Marcus. “Julian McCrea told us that he hadn’t heard anything about anyone being interested in the Weston drawing, not before it was stolen and not since.”

“Do you think he was being honest with you?” Hope asked.

“I don’t think he had any reason to lie,” I said. I looked questioningly at Gavin.