didn’t move a muscle to open her eyes. “Where is your husband?”
“He’s in the Internet Cafe. Dearest Thurston owns a number of car dealerships, and he’s so conscientious. He just has to keep in touch with his key people even when he’s away. He’s totally a bull when it comes to business,” Heidi said proudly.
“So why was he upset to see the artist’s name come up at the auction?”
“Alden’s triptych was one of the pieces that would have been auctioned at our museum’s fund-raiser to establish a new children’s art program.”
“I see.”
“No, you don’t get it,” Heidi said, clearly eager to gossip from the enthusiasm lacing her voice. “The afternoon before the gala event, when the museum was closed to the public, Alden fell to his death from the third-floor balcony. His triptych was a series of three paintings, and only the two outer pictures were found afterward. The middle picture had vanished.”
“Really?” Snapping her eyelids open behind her sunglasses, Marla glanced at Heidi. “What happened to those two pieces?”
“They became part of his estate. I can’t understand how Eric Rand fits in. It blew my mind to see him on board.”
“Why?” she asked, unable to deny her curiosity. Betsy had seemed fixated on him, too.
Heidi turned her face to catch the sun’s rays. “Eric was the museum curator at the time. He was fired over the scandal, and yet here he is, along with all three panels of the dead artist’s set.”
Marla swung her legs over the side of the lounge chair and stared at Heidi. “I don’t understand.”
“Eric was in charge when Alden tumbled to his death. As curator, he got blamed for the accident. Thurston said if it weren’t for Eric’s negligence, the tragedy never would have happened.”
Tucking a limp strand of hair behind her ear, Marla spied John Vail climbing down the stairs from the upper deck. Irene Smernoff, wearing a floral swimsuit, accompanied him. They were deeply engaged in conversation. Marla noticed Irene held a tall V-shaped glass containing a pinkish liquid. It looked like one of those tropical drink specials, but at ten o’clock in the morning?
Ding dong, ding dong . “Ladies and gents, this is Kevin, your assistant cruise director, inviting you to play jackpot bingo just beginning in the Sailaway Lounge on deck five. We have lots of money to give away and free rum punches, so we’ll see you there. Don’t miss this fantastic game!”
Distracted by the announcement, Marla forgot what Heidi was saying. Never mind that. What was John doing here without his wife? Hadn’t he and Kate gone to the ports-of-call presentation?
“Save my seat,” she muttered, leaping up. Stumbling over beach towels and bags, she forged a path toward John. Catching sight of her, he widened his mouth in a welcoming smile.
“Marla, I should have guessed I’d find you here.” He patted her on the back. “You know Irene, of course.”
Irene gave a nod, her frozen facial muscles allowing little more than a smirk. “I’m on my way to the salsa class. Do you dance, Marla?”
“Not ballroom dancing. I took ballet in my early years and even into my late teens.”
Irene’s eyes sparked. “Me, too. I’ve never given up my love for it, either. We have season tickets at home. Attending the theater is something Olly and I both enjoy.”
“What about you?” Marla asked her future father-in-law. “Are there cultural events where you live in Maine?”
John tilted his head. “Sure, although you’ll get me to a sports game faster than you will to a show. Kate likes that stuff. She goes with her bridge group all the time.”
Irene nudged him. “You’ll be going to plenty of shows soon, if I have anything to say about it.”
“I hope you’re right,” he said, giving her a silly grin.
Am I missing something here? These two seem to have something going on between them .
“Where’s Kate?” Marla demanded.
John’s brow folded in a frown.
“He’s in the Internet Cafe. Dearest Thurston owns a number of car dealerships, and he’s so conscientious. He just has to keep in touch with his key people even when he’s away. He’s totally a bull when it comes to business,” Heidi said proudly.
“So why was he upset to see the artist’s name come up at the auction?”
“Alden’s triptych was one of the pieces that would have been auctioned at our museum’s fund-raiser to establish a new children’s art program.”
“I see.”
“No, you don’t get it,” Heidi said, clearly eager to gossip from the enthusiasm lacing her voice. “The afternoon before the gala event, when the museum was closed to the public, Alden fell to his death from the third-floor balcony. His triptych was a series of three paintings, and only the two outer pictures were found afterward. The middle picture had vanished.”
“Really?” Snapping her eyelids open behind her sunglasses, Marla glanced at Heidi. “What happened to those two pieces?”
“They became part of his estate. I can’t understand how Eric Rand fits in. It blew my mind to see him on board.”
“Why?” she asked, unable to deny her curiosity. Betsy had seemed fixated on him, too.
Heidi turned her face to catch the sun’s rays. “Eric was the museum curator at the time. He was fired over the scandal, and yet here he is, along with all three panels of the dead artist’s set.”
Marla swung her legs over the side of the lounge chair and stared at Heidi. “I don’t understand.”
“Eric was in charge when Alden tumbled to his death. As curator, he got blamed for the accident. Thurston said if it weren’t for Eric’s negligence, the tragedy never would have happened.”
Tucking a limp strand of hair behind her ear, Marla spied John Vail climbing down the stairs from the upper deck. Irene Smernoff, wearing a floral swimsuit, accompanied him. They were deeply engaged in conversation. Marla noticed Irene held a tall V-shaped glass containing a pinkish liquid. It looked like one of those tropical drink specials, but at ten o’clock in the morning?
Ding dong, ding dong . “Ladies and gents, this is Kevin, your assistant cruise director, inviting you to play jackpot bingo just beginning in the Sailaway Lounge on deck five. We have lots of money to give away and free rum punches, so we’ll see you there. Don’t miss this fantastic game!”
Distracted by the announcement, Marla forgot what Heidi was saying. Never mind that. What was John doing here without his wife? Hadn’t he and Kate gone to the ports-of-call presentation?
“Save my seat,” she muttered, leaping up. Stumbling over beach towels and bags, she forged a path toward John. Catching sight of her, he widened his mouth in a welcoming smile.
“Marla, I should have guessed I’d find you here.” He patted her on the back. “You know Irene, of course.”
Irene gave a nod, her frozen facial muscles allowing little more than a smirk. “I’m on my way to the salsa class. Do you dance, Marla?”
“Not ballroom dancing. I took ballet in my early years and even into my late teens.”
Irene’s eyes sparked. “Me, too. I’ve never given up my love for it, either. We have season tickets at home. Attending the theater is something Olly and I both enjoy.”
“What about you?” Marla asked her future father-in-law. “Are there cultural events where you live in Maine?”
John tilted his head. “Sure, although you’ll get me to a sports game faster than you will to a show. Kate likes that stuff. She goes with her bridge group all the time.”
Irene nudged him. “You’ll be going to plenty of shows soon, if I have anything to say about it.”
“I hope you’re right,” he said, giving her a silly grin.
Am I missing something here? These two seem to have something going on between them .
“Where’s Kate?” Marla demanded.
John’s brow folded in a frown.