“You’re going to be difficult about this, aren’t you?”
“Just trying to take a logical view of the situation. Connecting dots.”
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” she said. She took a deep breath and forged on. “Our relationship has not changed in any fundamental way. We hardly know each other, for heaven’s sake.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to crawl over the pillow wall tonight. I just told you, I’ve got other plans.”
It would be ridiculous to take that personally. Absolutely ridiculous. But the air suddenly went out of her sails.
She reminded herself that she was dealing with a man who knew how to focus. She needed to follow his example.
When they reached the sculpture garden she glanced briefly at the Maze Gallery. Even in the clear light of the desert morning, the windows were dark.
“I assume we’re going into the gallery tonight,” she said, aiming for a professional tone.
“You are not going in,” Luke said. “You and Bruce will stay in the honeymoon suite while I take a look around the gallery.”
“Going in alone is a bad idea. You may need backup.”
“It will be easier for me to get in and out if I don’t have to worry about you and Bruce. He has many talents, but as far as I know, he wasn’t trained for professional-grade B and E work.”
“But I am. I’m a Harper, remember? It’s a truth known to every Wells that in my family we start training for illegal B and E work in the cradle.”
“I’ve heard that,” he said. “And I do admire talent of any kind. However, in this case I think you will be most useful if you remain in the suite with Bruce and make it look like I’m in there with you. Hang the privacy sign on the door. Everyone will assume we’re doing interesting things in our private spa.”
“Are you telling me that you are good enough to slip out of the room without anyone noticing?”
He smiled. “The first rule in the security business is figuring out how the bad guys operate. Then you come up with ways to stop them. So yes, I’ve learned a few tricks of the trade.”
“What do we do the rest of the day?”
“We mingle. Attend the workshop lectures. Chat with the other guests. Most of all we make sure we attend the Meet the Artist event this afternoon and the aurora show in the sculpture garden this evening.”
“Mingling is a good idea. It will give me an opportunity to see if I can spot Vincent Grant.”
“Yes, it will. I have a few questions for him.”
Thirty-Two
The Meet the Artist eventproved to be more interesting than Sophy had anticipated. Up until that point the day had been a bust as far as she was concerned. There had been no sign of Vincent Grant.
She and Luke were on their own at the event. Bruce had been left behind in the suite. He had not seemed to mind. When they left, he had been stretched out on the rug, evidently preparing to take a nap, but she was pretty sure he was planning to move to the bed as soon as they were gone.
Once she concluded that Grant was not at the Meet the Artist reception, she decided to take a closer look at the creators. Five of the six artists in residence were present. They milled around the buffet table with expressions that ranged from morose to irritated. In between downing canapés by the handful they muttered to each other and checked the time.
Sophy leaned over the small table where she and Luke sat, cups of coffee in front of them. “Artists are notoriously temperamental,” she said, “but this lot looks way beyond moody. They really do not want to be here.”
“The creative type isn’t always good at making nice with strangers, especially if those strangers are potential customers,” Luke observed. “We probably make them nervous.”
“True, but something tells me there’s more going on. I’ll see if I can corner one of them and do some chatting.”
Luke put down his empty coffee cup and got to his feet. “I’ll come with you.”
They made their way toward the buffet table. As they neared their objective, Sophy sized up the small herd.
“I vote we go for the young woman with the ponytail,” she said. “She looks annoyed enough to talk.”
Luke considered the artist Sophy had selected. “Works for me. You’re right. She’s definitely pissed.”
