Grand Passion

the painting with rapt attention.
    “And seascapes,” Cleo added. “I'm very fond of seascapes.”
    “I don't carry that sort of thing,” Walter said stiffly.
    “I noticed.” Cleo watched Max. “You okay, Max? You look a little strange.” She wondered uneasily if he were looking into one of his own nightmares.
    “I'm fine,” Max said softly. “Who's the artist, Walter? I don't recognize the style.”
    “A recent discovery of mine,” Walter said smugly. “His name is David Verrier. What do you think?”
    “I'll take it. Can you get it delivered this afternoon? I'm leaving town tomorrow.”
    “No problem.” Walter rubbed his hands together and chortled knowingly. “Thought you'd like it. Five years from now Verrier is going to be worth a mint.”
    “Yes,” Max said. He was still gazing into the painting. “Call me as soon as you get anything else from him. I'll leave you my new number.”
    “Of course,” Walter said happily. “Yours will be the first name on my list.”
    “Mine will be the only name on your list,” Max said.
    Walter cleared his throat. “Uh, yes. The only name. But see here, Max. Verrier needs a chance to gain some exposure. You can't grab everything he does and lock it up before the art world has an opportunity to see his work. I want to be able to give him some shows. He deserves the recognition.”
    Max did not look pleased, but he nodded reluctantly. “All right. You can show his pictures. But I get first crack at whatever he produces.”
    “It's a deal.”
    Cleo tipped her head to one side and studied the canvas from a different angle. When that didn't make it any more cheerful, she walked to another corner of the room and peered at it from there. Then she crouched down and tried again from another vantage point.
    “Okay, Max, tell me what you see in that picture,” she said. “It looks like the bottom of a bucket of black paint to me.”
    Walter cringed. “Did you say you're going to marry this…this person , Max?”
    “Yes.” Max finally tore his gaze away from the picture. He smiled. “She doesn't know much about art, but she knows what she likes.”
    “I see.” Walter's eyes glittered. “By the way, Max, there are rumors floating around.”
    “Rumors about what?” Max asked without any real show of interest.
    “About five Amos Luttrell paintings that have recently disappeared,” Walter said softly. “You wouldn't know anything about them, would you?”
    “I know that they belong to me,” Max said.
    “Uh, yes. I suspected you'd say something like that.” Walter pursed his lips. “But there appears to be some question of ownership.”
    Max's mouth curved in a humorless smile. “There's no question at all about who owns the Luttrells, Walter.”
    Walter cleared his throat. “The story I heard involves Garrison Spark. Word is, he's on the trail of the Luttrells. He's got a client who will pay a quarter of a million for them. He's also got a bill of sale from Jason Curzon. He claims it predates the will.”
    “The bill of sale, if it exists, is a forgery.” Max's eyes met Walter's. “We both know it wouldn't be the first forgery Spark has handled, don't we?”
    Walter smiled wryly. “Point taken.”

    The following afternoon Cleo sat beside Max in the Jaguar and watched with trepidation as Harmony Cove came into sight. “I wonder if the city council will have roadblocks up at the entrance to town to prevent me from coming back.”
    “Relax, Cleo. No one's going to be upset about the fact that you wrote a book.”
    “Nolan was.”
    “Nolan's an ass.”
    “Yes, well, I'm afraid he's not the only ass in Harmony Cove.” Cleo twisted the ring on her finger. She was very conscious of its weight. “By now I suppose O'Reilly has talked to everyone.”
    “Probably. O'Reilly is very thorough.”
    “I don't know if this was such a good idea, Max.”
    He slanted her a sidelong glance. “You think letting that stalker get closer and closer is a better idea?”
    “Well, no, but I have to live here in Harmony Cove after this is all over. I don't want people staring at me. I had my fill of curiosity seekers after my parents died.”
    “I'll keep the curiosity seekers at bay,” Max promised softly.
    She saw the grim line of his jaw and knew he meant every word. Cleo relaxed slightly. With Max by her side no one was going to give her too much trouble. “I may have to give you a raise.”
    “I'll take it out in Daystar's cornbread