imagination get the better of you."
"No." She shook her head. "Not my imagination. When it comes to art, I rely on my intuition. And I'm almost never wrong."
She had gone for the deal.
Cyrus was not sure if that was good news or bad news. He had taken a calculated risk when he had told her his real agenda. But with the local law knocking at the door last night and a dead man in the basement, he had made a gut-level decision.
It was not as if he'd had a lot of options, he reminded himself later that morning as he stood at the counter of Burt's Gas & Grocery. He needed Eugenia's willing cooperation, even if she was lying through her teeth to him.
"Understand you folks stumbled across Leonard Hastings out at Glass House last night." The slightly built man behind the counter stuffed a half-gallon of skim milk into a sack. The name on his apron announced that he was the Burt of Burt's Gas & Grocery. "It's all over town that old Leonard's ticker finally gave out on him."
"That seemed to be the general consensus of opinion." Cyrus pulled cash out of his wallet. "Dr. Jones said he took a lot of medication for his heart problems."
"That's a fact. Well, hate to say it, but I doubt if anyone will miss old Leonard too much."
Eugenia looked up from a display of wilted fresh produce. "Why not?"
"Meditation Jones will tell you that he had a dirty aura." Burt made a face. "Hell, maybe she's right. All I know is that no one else except Daventry would have hired him. Old Leonard was kind of creepy. But, then, so was Adam Daventry. In a more high-class way, if you know what I mean."
"I didn't realize people around here thought Daventry was creepy." Eugenia walked toward the counter with a red pepper and some lettuce in her hands. "Did you know him?"
"Not hardly." Burt snorted. "Daventry didn't have time for us local folks. Did his shopping on the mainland. Claimed he couldn't get his fancy food here."
Cyrus was amused by the hint of red in Eugenia's cheeks.
"I see," she said stiffly.
"I ain't complainin', mind you," Burt continued. "If it hadn't been for Daventry we wouldn't have all these artists livin' here, and I'm makin' as much money off the tourists as everyone else. But just because his art colony idea worked don't mean Daventry was a nice guy."
"I understand Daventry gave some wild parties out at Glass House," Eugenia murmured.
"Yep. Deputy Peaceful had to go out there a time or two. Word is there was drugs and stuff at those parties. Couldn't prove it by me. The only ones who got invited were the artists and those friends of his who used to come from off-island."
Cyrus looked at him. "Did you see his guests from the mainland?"
"Sure. Same ones every time. Used to come in on the ferry. Five of 'em. Never stopped in town. Just went straight out to Glass House. Stayed the night and left the next day. Reckon they won't be coming back now that Daventry's pushing up daisies." Burt smiled. "I hear you two are here on vacation."
"A working vacation," Eugenia said glibly. "Daventry left his glass collection to the Leabrook Museum. I'm the museum's director. I decided to spend my time off inventorying the glass before it's packed and shipped back to Seattle."
"Uh-huh." Burt did not sound impressed. "Heard you worked for some little museum in Seattle."
"The Leabrook may be small compared to some museums," she said coolly, "but I assure you that when it comes to glass, it can hold its own with institutions several times its size."
Cyrus was amused by the haughty note in her voice and the arrogant tilt of her chin. She wore a pair of hunter green trousers topped with a rakish, military-style green shirt. A wide leather belt set off her slim waist. Two small circles of beaten silver gleamed in her ears.
Her proud, self-possessed composure intrigued him at the same time that it challenged him. There was strength in this woman. He had learned long ago that strength was frequently used to conceal or control powerful passions.
He
"No." She shook her head. "Not my imagination. When it comes to art, I rely on my intuition. And I'm almost never wrong."
She had gone for the deal.
Cyrus was not sure if that was good news or bad news. He had taken a calculated risk when he had told her his real agenda. But with the local law knocking at the door last night and a dead man in the basement, he had made a gut-level decision.
It was not as if he'd had a lot of options, he reminded himself later that morning as he stood at the counter of Burt's Gas & Grocery. He needed Eugenia's willing cooperation, even if she was lying through her teeth to him.
"Understand you folks stumbled across Leonard Hastings out at Glass House last night." The slightly built man behind the counter stuffed a half-gallon of skim milk into a sack. The name on his apron announced that he was the Burt of Burt's Gas & Grocery. "It's all over town that old Leonard's ticker finally gave out on him."
"That seemed to be the general consensus of opinion." Cyrus pulled cash out of his wallet. "Dr. Jones said he took a lot of medication for his heart problems."
"That's a fact. Well, hate to say it, but I doubt if anyone will miss old Leonard too much."
Eugenia looked up from a display of wilted fresh produce. "Why not?"
"Meditation Jones will tell you that he had a dirty aura." Burt made a face. "Hell, maybe she's right. All I know is that no one else except Daventry would have hired him. Old Leonard was kind of creepy. But, then, so was Adam Daventry. In a more high-class way, if you know what I mean."
"I didn't realize people around here thought Daventry was creepy." Eugenia walked toward the counter with a red pepper and some lettuce in her hands. "Did you know him?"
"Not hardly." Burt snorted. "Daventry didn't have time for us local folks. Did his shopping on the mainland. Claimed he couldn't get his fancy food here."
Cyrus was amused by the hint of red in Eugenia's cheeks.
"I see," she said stiffly.
"I ain't complainin', mind you," Burt continued. "If it hadn't been for Daventry we wouldn't have all these artists livin' here, and I'm makin' as much money off the tourists as everyone else. But just because his art colony idea worked don't mean Daventry was a nice guy."
"I understand Daventry gave some wild parties out at Glass House," Eugenia murmured.
"Yep. Deputy Peaceful had to go out there a time or two. Word is there was drugs and stuff at those parties. Couldn't prove it by me. The only ones who got invited were the artists and those friends of his who used to come from off-island."
Cyrus looked at him. "Did you see his guests from the mainland?"
"Sure. Same ones every time. Used to come in on the ferry. Five of 'em. Never stopped in town. Just went straight out to Glass House. Stayed the night and left the next day. Reckon they won't be coming back now that Daventry's pushing up daisies." Burt smiled. "I hear you two are here on vacation."
"A working vacation," Eugenia said glibly. "Daventry left his glass collection to the Leabrook Museum. I'm the museum's director. I decided to spend my time off inventorying the glass before it's packed and shipped back to Seattle."
"Uh-huh." Burt did not sound impressed. "Heard you worked for some little museum in Seattle."
"The Leabrook may be small compared to some museums," she said coolly, "but I assure you that when it comes to glass, it can hold its own with institutions several times its size."
Cyrus was amused by the haughty note in her voice and the arrogant tilt of her chin. She wore a pair of hunter green trousers topped with a rakish, military-style green shirt. A wide leather belt set off her slim waist. Two small circles of beaten silver gleamed in her ears.
Her proud, self-possessed composure intrigued him at the same time that it challenged him. There was strength in this woman. He had learned long ago that strength was frequently used to conceal or control powerful passions.
He
Similar Books
