Hidden Talents

long-fingered hands.
    The style, which Jessie had perfected years ago and which never varied, accented her silver and black hair and her exotic bone structure. She turned to glance at the green car as it disappeared down the road. Then she looked at Serenity.
    “Who was that?” Jessie asked in her husky voice.
    “His name's Gallagher Firebrace. He said he was a friend of Ambrose's,” Serenity explained.
    “Firebrace.” Jessie's brows drew together. “I think Ambrose did mention him from time to time. He's from Seattle, isn't he?”
    “Apparently.” Serenity went down the steps to give Jessie a quick hug. Jessie looked weary but calm, almost resigned. “Are you okay?”
    “I'm doing all right.” Jessie gave her a tired smile. “Part of me always knew it would end like this. Poor Ambrose never could stay away from the bottle long enough to get his act together. But lately I really had begun to let myself believe he might actually make it this time. He was trying very hard.”
    “We all hoped he was going to make it,” Serenity said gently.
    “Yes.” Jessie looked at Caleb. “You must be Serenity's new business consultant. The man who spent the night in Julius's cabin.”
    Caleb's smile was wry. “That's the thing about small towns, isn't it? Nothing goes unnoticed. I'm Caleb Ventress.”
    “Too bad Ambrose never got a chance to meet you,” Jessie said.
    Caleb caught Serenity's eye. “I'd like to have had a few words with him, myself.”
    Serenity hastened to change the subject. This was neither the time nor the place for Caleb to make accusations of blackmail against Ambrose. “Do you know what will happen to Ambrose's things, Jessie?”
    Jessie looked at her in surprise. “He left everything to me.”
    “Asterley had a will?” Caleb asked sharply.
    Jessie nodded. “He went to a lawyer in Bullington last year and had one drawn up. Ambrose was going through a period during which he convinced himself that his talent would never be recognized in his own lifetime.”
    “So he started hoping for a little posthumous glory, is that it?” Caleb asked.
    Jessie sighed. “I'm going to do my best to get his work some critical attention. He certainly deserves it. He really was very talented. I just wish that he…well, never mind. It's too late now, isn't it?”
    “Did Asterley leave you everything?” Caleb asked. “The cabin and his photo equipment, too?”
    “Yes. Once I get Ambrose's place cleared out, I think I'll turn the cabin over to a real estate agent in Bullington. He can either rent it or sell it, I don't particularly care. I suppose I'll try to sell the photo equipment. Maybe I'll put an ad in the Bullington paper.”
    “Better keep an eye on the equipment until it's sold,” Caleb said grimly. “There seems to be a lot of interest in it.”
    Jessie's eyes widened slightly. “What do you mean?”
    “Mr. Firebrace seemed to think he had some kind of claim on it because of the money he says he loaned to Ambrose over the years,” Serenity said.
    Jessie glanced over her shoulder in the direction Gallagher had disappeared. “Knowing Ambrose, it's entirely possible that he died owing money to quite a few people. If Mr. Firebrace wants to contact me, maybe we can work something out.”
    “Not unless he can produce some proof that he actually loaned money to Asterley and that it was not repaid,” Caleb said flatly. “Make sure Firebrace has a genuine IOU with Asterley's signature on it before you agree to turn over any of the equipment.”
    Jessie smiled faintly. “You are definitely a businessman, aren't you?”
    “It's what I do.”
    Jessie shrugged. “It shouldn't be an issue. Ambrose was obsessive about the files that pertained to his work. If he borrowed money from Firebrace in order to buy photo equipment, you can bet there'll be a record in one of those file cabinets.”
    “Speaking of Ambrose's files,” Serenity said, “I came by for the negatives of those photos that he took of me last spring. I wasn't sure who would get his things, so I thought I'd better grab them before any of his relatives showed up.”
    “Right. Did you find them?” Jessie asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Good. They're yours, of course. Ambrose always said you could have them if you wanted them. I'd never send them off to a gallery without your permission.”
    “A gallery ?” Caleb looked startled. “I should hope to hell not.”
    Jessie smiled. “Those photos are definitely some of Ambrose's best work,