Page 33 of Sanctuary

Gabe frowned, not quite believing Lori’s disinterest. “Of course it matters.” And it also gave them more to talk about before they got to the nitty gritty of the restoration project. Because after they’d addressed that, Gabe knew Lori would be gone. She pulled out her cell, navigated to Google to type Marie Zimmerman New York 1930s and then hit search. “Ha, bingo. ‘During the difficult economic times of the 1930s, Zimmermann was forced to limit her production of many luxury goods.’”

“So she was rich, whoopee. I’ll see if the family is still monied and try to get them to help bankroll the project.”

They were briefly interrupted by the barista bringing their drinks, giving Gabe time to scroll down some more of the search results. “Hey, she was an artist. A metalsmith, actually… She’s pretty famous.” She glanced up at Lori, who looked less than impressed at Gabe’s distraction. “This is valuable research,” she said and placed her phone sideways between them so Lori could see the screen too. “It could mean that the car will be worth more at auction if people want a piece of her history.”

Lori leaned in. “Really?”

Gabe smiled. That got her attention. “Really.”

Lori tapped the heading The Marie Zimmerman Center for the Arts. “She had her own art center. That is impressive.”

The page opened, and a large black and white portrait of Marie Zimmerman caught Gabe’s attention. “She looks quite masculine. Was short hair a thing for women in the thirties?”

Lori shrugged yet still managed to make it look elegant. “I have no idea, but you’re right.” She expanded the screen to increase the text size. “‘A nationally acclaimed metal crafts artist with a half-dozen employees, coverage in national arts magazines, and exhibitions from coast to coast.’ I’m starting to like this woman.”

Lori was close enough for Gabe to smell—No. She stopped herself. How cliché to breathe in the scent of Lori’s perfume…but damn, it was almost impossible to stop herself.

“What else can you find out?”

Gabe smiled at Lori’s new enthusiasm for their impromptu dive into the woman’s history. She went back to the original search page and scrolled down. “Can’t beat Wikipedia,” she said and hit the headline. A sepia portrait of Marie showed her with short hair again. It didn’t take long for Gabe to find more evidence that she might be family. “‘Calling herself “a craftsman” rather than an artist—’” she read out loud. “She’s got to be gay.”

Lori scrolled down the page until she got to the section marked, Later Life. “Huh, you’re right: ‘Zimmermann was an avid fisher and hunter and lived for over forty years with her life partner Ruth Allen, a former actress and screenwriter.’”

Gabe winked. “My gaydar is never wrong. Let’s look up Ruth Allen.”

Lori hit the home button on Gabe’s phone then turned it screen down. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I thought you said you weren’t in a rush to leave.”

“And I wasn’t, but the clock keeps on ticking…” She gestured wildly toward Gabe. “It’s like I’m with a time-swallowing black hole.”

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever been called a giant empty space before,” Gabe said. “But isn’t that a good thing? Don’t they say time flies when you’re having fun? Are you having fun? I’m having fun.” She was having more fun than she could ever remember having outside a bedroom, but she’d been warned about the cheesy lines, so she didn’t add that.

Lori laughed, shook her head, and blew out a long breath. “I am having fun, actually.”

“Ugh, that word. Actually. Someone should ban it.”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s like saying, I’m having fun, which I really wasn’t expecting. In fact, I thought it was going to be a total bore, and I wouldn’t be able to get away fast enough. But actually, you’ve turned out to be quite interesting. And against all odds, I’m actually enjoying myself.”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that actually,” Lori said and laughed. “It’s just an innocent little word. What’s it ever done to you?”

“Plenty.” Gabe crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “It’s a bit of a bully actually.” She picked up her cup and took a sip.

Lori held up her hands. “Stop! I’m enjoying this, of course I am, but I do need to get back to the Sanctuary soon, and I have to talk to my mom about our plans so she can activate our attorney.”

Gabe chuckled at the strange phrasing before its meaning began to sink in. “‘Activate our attorney?’ Is he a robot?”

“Sorry, that’s what my mom always says.” Lori picked up a spoon and over-stirred her latte. “This is why I was eager to talk about the project you’re proposing.”

So Lori had clearly picked up on Gabe’s discomfort, despite her joke. That had to mean she was expecting that reaction. “You like your alliteration,” she said. “It’s not so much of a proposal as a friendly offer, Lori.”

Lori picked up her Apple pen again and drew a rudimentary car in the top corner of her notes. “I get that, I really do. Can I explain where we’re coming from?”

“We?” Gabe asked then wished she hadn’t. “You and the car are in on this together?”

Lori gave a small smile. “The Sanctuary isn’t just me, Gabe. It’s my baby, and I took it on when no one else would?—”

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