Page 25 of 3rd Tango
She tilts her head, staring at it a few seconds while the hairs on my neck dance and my mind spins theories on who the woman is. Friend? Sister? Mother?
Random nobody?
I glance at Marie, who stares at the painting. Nothing about her body language tells me anything. No longing in her eyes or wistful sigh, but there’s an uneasiness. Something deep and…painful.
For whatever reason, and I have to assume it’s the woman, I get the feeling this piece is important to her.
“Where is this?”
Marie straightens and heads toward me. “Oh, that’s nothing.”
Gently, she takes it from me, placing it back in the row. “It’s an early one. I’m terrible at portraits so I gave up.”
She returns to the row of paintings while I consider ways to get her talking again.
“Here it is!” Marie swings it toward me. “Windswept!” I paste a faux smile on my face. She points at the lower, rear corner where she’s written something on the wood frame just beyond the edge of the canvas. “And, just so you know, I add the name to the back. See,” she says, “Windswept.” She spins it again. “This is the one you wanted, right?”
I nod, but my mind is on the portrait she’d taken out of my hands. “That’s it,” I say. “And now that I’ve seen the other, I’ll take it, too. How much for both?”
Slowly, her mouth drifts open and she stands there, apparently gobsmacked by my offer. “Marie?”
“That not for sale. Just Windswept.”
Damn. “Are you sure? I’d be happy to pay extra.”
She shakes her head a little too hard and takes a teensy step back. I’m spooking her.
Which only fuels my curiosity.
“No,” she says, her voice carrying a hard edge.
An absolute warning that I should back off and regroup.
“All right. But, if you change your mind, I’d love to have it.”
I dig into my pocket where I stashed the amount I saw on Marie’s website. “Here you go. One hundred twenty-five, right?”
She takes the bills, but returns the twenty and the five. “Just one hundred, since you came out here and all.”
For a second, I consider protesting, but decide against it. Why squabble and make more out of a simple transaction than necessary? I hold up the cash. “Thank you for the discount.”
I take the painting from her and head toward the door, my mind focused on figuring out another way to get a look at the portrait I’ve left behind.
And the name on the back of it.
11
Charlie
The heat index is over a hundred by the time I reach the office. I park in front under the single tree, leaving the rear parking lot’s shade for Meg when she arrives. I wrestle with my briefcase, lock the Beemer, and walk inside to find Haley with an oscillating fan fluttering papers on her desk. Her cheeks are flushed. It’s cooler in the building than outside, but not by much.
“Did it finally quit?” I ask.
She doesn’t look up from her typing. “Not yet, but it’s on its last leg. I already called the A/C guys. They’ll be here Friday.”
“That’s the soonest they can work on it?”
She nods, stops typing, and holds out two pink message slips to me. “And before you ask, I’ve already called the others in the area and they’re all booked as well. Half of the tri-state area is suffering from the heat.”
