you.”
Once Claire had started back for the kitchen, Gavin leaned forward, his forearms on the small table, and smiled at me. “I think I may have found a way to satisfy the museum’s requirements for keeping the artwork safe.”
“Seriously?” I said.
He nodded and reached for his tablet. “There’s a line in our contract with the insurance company about using ‘all reasonable measures’ to protect the artwork during the times it’s not on exhibit.”
I added cream and sugar to my coffee. “Which means?”
“Keeping the library closed is not a reasonable measure.” He turned the tablet so I could see the paragraph he was talking about in the contract. “I talked to Lita to get her thoughts. She agreed with me. She even ran it by a lawyer she knows.”
That had to be Brady.
Gavin took the tablet back and set it on the table again. “He agrees.”
“Yes!” I said.
He held up one hand, and even though it felt a little silly I high-fived him because being able to open the library once the police were finished had just made my life so much easier.
I leaned back in my seat and folded my hands around my mug. “Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate you going through the contract.”
He reached for his own coffee. “Hey, it was the least I could do after all the disruption having the exhibit here has caused for you.” His expression changed. “Have you heard anything more about the investigation into Margo’s death? Or should I not ask you that?”
“No, it’s okay,” I said. “I haven’t heard anything.”
Claire came out of the kitchen with a tray and started toward us.
“There’s a memorial being planned for Margo in Minneapolis the first of next week,” Gavin said. “I’m going to try to be there. Her, uh . . . service will be in Chicago.”
“I’m glad you’re going,” I said.
Over breakfast we went over the plans to keep the artwork secure until it could be moved and how that might affect day-to-day operations at the library. With a few adjustments I felt confident we could make things work.
When Claire came back to the table, she handed the bill to Gavin, something I realized he must have arranged in advance. “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I asked you to meet me for breakfast.”
“And I’d been about to make the same request when I got your text,” he countered. “This was business. My company’s business. You can get it next time.” He turned to Claire. “Would you add a chicken salad sandwich to that, please?” he held out the bill and his credit card.
“Of course,” she said. “How would you like the sandwich?”
“Hold the bread, mayo, celery and green onions.”
Claire frowned but at the same time a hint of a smile played around her mouth. “So what you really want is the chicken.”
“Yeah,” Gavin said. “I’m trying to take a more minimalist approach to lunch.”
“Okay,” Claire said, giving up and letting the smile out. “I’ll be right back.”
He pulled on his leather jacket and grabbed his messenger bag. I told him I’d call Lita and get back to him once I’d talked to her and checked out the library.
Claire came back with his receipt and a small take-out container that I was guessing held the chicken. Gavin thanked her and passed the cardboard container over to me. “For Owen,” he said. “Guys have to stick together.”
I laughed. “Thank you. You’ll have a friend for life now.”
“You can’t have too many of those,” he said. His phone buzzed.
“I’ll talk to you later,” I said.
If Owen had been a person, I would have said his eyes lit up when his nose detected the aroma coming from the take-out container. His whiskers twitched and he momentarily forgot about his injured paw as he walked across the front seat of the truck to sniff the box.
“Are you feeling better?” I asked.
He immediately sat down, held up his paw and meowed, giving me his sad-kitty face.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.
Once Claire had started back for the kitchen, Gavin leaned forward, his forearms on the small table, and smiled at me. “I think I may have found a way to satisfy the museum’s requirements for keeping the artwork safe.”
“Seriously?” I said.
He nodded and reached for his tablet. “There’s a line in our contract with the insurance company about using ‘all reasonable measures’ to protect the artwork during the times it’s not on exhibit.”
I added cream and sugar to my coffee. “Which means?”
“Keeping the library closed is not a reasonable measure.” He turned the tablet so I could see the paragraph he was talking about in the contract. “I talked to Lita to get her thoughts. She agreed with me. She even ran it by a lawyer she knows.”
That had to be Brady.
Gavin took the tablet back and set it on the table again. “He agrees.”
“Yes!” I said.
He held up one hand, and even though it felt a little silly I high-fived him because being able to open the library once the police were finished had just made my life so much easier.
I leaned back in my seat and folded my hands around my mug. “Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate you going through the contract.”
He reached for his own coffee. “Hey, it was the least I could do after all the disruption having the exhibit here has caused for you.” His expression changed. “Have you heard anything more about the investigation into Margo’s death? Or should I not ask you that?”
“No, it’s okay,” I said. “I haven’t heard anything.”
Claire came out of the kitchen with a tray and started toward us.
“There’s a memorial being planned for Margo in Minneapolis the first of next week,” Gavin said. “I’m going to try to be there. Her, uh . . . service will be in Chicago.”
“I’m glad you’re going,” I said.
Over breakfast we went over the plans to keep the artwork secure until it could be moved and how that might affect day-to-day operations at the library. With a few adjustments I felt confident we could make things work.
When Claire came back to the table, she handed the bill to Gavin, something I realized he must have arranged in advance. “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I asked you to meet me for breakfast.”
“And I’d been about to make the same request when I got your text,” he countered. “This was business. My company’s business. You can get it next time.” He turned to Claire. “Would you add a chicken salad sandwich to that, please?” he held out the bill and his credit card.
“Of course,” she said. “How would you like the sandwich?”
“Hold the bread, mayo, celery and green onions.”
Claire frowned but at the same time a hint of a smile played around her mouth. “So what you really want is the chicken.”
“Yeah,” Gavin said. “I’m trying to take a more minimalist approach to lunch.”
“Okay,” Claire said, giving up and letting the smile out. “I’ll be right back.”
He pulled on his leather jacket and grabbed his messenger bag. I told him I’d call Lita and get back to him once I’d talked to her and checked out the library.
Claire came back with his receipt and a small take-out container that I was guessing held the chicken. Gavin thanked her and passed the cardboard container over to me. “For Owen,” he said. “Guys have to stick together.”
I laughed. “Thank you. You’ll have a friend for life now.”
“You can’t have too many of those,” he said. His phone buzzed.
“I’ll talk to you later,” I said.
If Owen had been a person, I would have said his eyes lit up when his nose detected the aroma coming from the take-out container. His whiskers twitched and he momentarily forgot about his injured paw as he walked across the front seat of the truck to sniff the box.
“Are you feeling better?” I asked.
He immediately sat down, held up his paw and meowed, giving me his sad-kitty face.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.
Similar Books
