Free Just Before Sunrise by Carla Neggers Page A

personal financial manager, his deep blue eyes behind studious round glasses. He was a tall, well-built, good-looking man, as smart about money as Garvin, just never as ambitious in his career.
    "Morning," Ethan said. "Thought you'd be up with the seagulls."
    "Not today." Not, Garvin thought, after a night of tossing and turning over the plight of Annie Payne, of thinking about her troubled slate eyes and how she'd licked biscotti crumbs from her lower lip.
    Ethan glanced around at the marina. "Bare-bones operation, huh? You always did go for the basics when it came to sailing."
    Garvin shrugged. "Not everyone likes a fancy yacht club. Anyway, you didn't come for a tour dressed like that. What's up?"
    Ethan's expression changed almost imperceptibly, a seriousness coming over him. "I'm here about the auction on Saturday. You and this Annie Payne character really have people stirred up over your fight over that painting. You saw the piece in yesterday's paper?"
    "Just gossip." Dangerous gossip, Garvin thought, if it had brought Vic Denardo out of the woodwork.
    "Maybe, but you know John and Cynthia when it comes to gossip. They've both had enough of it. I've tried to talk her out of it, but Cynthia's decided to look into why a new gallery owner in town would pay so much for such a painting. She thinks there might be more to it than just fancy." Ethan grinned suddenly, some of his usual irreverence creeping in, but the seriousness stayed in his eyes. "Though God knows, Garvin, you could drive a saint into a bidding frenzy."
    Garvin shifted his gaze out to the water, boats bobbing in the waves. A day of hard work. That was what he'd promised himself after yesterday's jaunt to Union Street. He'd considered going to the police, but what would he tell them besides that Annie Payne had been pale and scared yesterday and had described a man who fit Vic Denardo's description? What could they do that they hadn't already done in the past five years?
    But early this morning, in the milkiness of dawn, half awake, he'd felt the curling, snaking doubt. What if he hadn't gone to the police because he was afraid they'd scare Vic away?
    "Garvin?"
    "What? Sorry. I was just thinking about the auction. What does Cynthia plan to do?"
    "Just check this woman out, I guess. She's asked me to keep my eyes open."
    "What about John?"
    "He hasn't said anything to me. If I had to make a guess, I'd say Cynthia's trying to keep him from getting hurt, in case this Annie Payne's up to something."
    Garvin turned his attention back to Ethan. "Such as?"
    Ethan shrugged, awkward. "I don't know."
    But he did. Garvin could see it in his discomfort, the way he pushed up his glasses and gave a little laugh, never one to appreciate anything that might interfere with his good humor. Ethan Conninger preferred to avoid confrontation, to enjoy life. It made him fun to be around, if not a good shoulder to cry on. He didn't like to dwell on his own problems, never mind anybody else's. He'd never had Garvin's drive and ambition, but seemed content working for the Linwoods, operating in their social circle, but not really being a part of it, wanting nothing more than what he had.
    "I've thought—" He breathed out, hunched his shoulders against a gust off the water. "Well, I suppose it's possible Annie Payne's in cahoots with Sarah somehow, although how and why I can't imagine. If Sarah wanted the painting, she had every right to it. She didn't have to send someone to buy it for her."
    "What if she didn't want anyone to know she's back in town?"
    "That's what Cynthia said." Ethan bit off a sigh. "It's all speculation. For all I know, Annie Payne doesn't even know who Sarah Linwood is and she's just some Linwood groupie."
    "Is there something you wanted from me?" Garvin asked.
    "I was just hoping you'd heard something that could put Cynthia's mind at ease or if you're suspicious yourself."
    Oh, he was suspicious. Even before his visit to Annie's Gallery late yesterday, he'd had