store closed. Henny had planned to drop by this afternoon to pick up her latest order, Kathy Lynn Emersonâs Face Down Beneath the Eleanor Cross, Marlys Millhiserâs Killer Commute, and Katherine Hall Pageâs The Body in the Cast . Sheâd call Henny and promise to bring the titles to the art exhibition tonight. Henny never missed a good party.
ââbut she said she had to hunt for him.â Max raised a blond brow. âShe didnât give a name, just said âhim.ââ
Annie welcomed a jolt of the strong iced tea. âShe doesnât know his name.â
âNo name, but apparently she has a description. In her second call, she was excited, saying somebody told her theyâd seen a guy in a golferâs cap and argyle sweater out on Black Duck Road. Iâm sorry to reportââMaxâs tone was amusedââthat the sighting apparently did not lead to her quarry. In the last call, she was discouraged, lots of sighs and sniffs and sad laments. She perked up at the end and said sheâd see you tonight. She said sheâd decided to come to the reception at the gallery because Mr. Mackey was so nice and besides youâd said most everybody on the island came to a free party and maybe heâwith hopeful insistence on the pronounâwould be there, and besides the gallery was on Black Duck Road. She asked you to call her if you had any idea what she should do.â
âLordy,â Annie murmured.
âWhatâs so special about this guy?â Max poured the Bud Light.
âOh, heâs some mysterious Lothario she met in the fog on the harbor pier at midnight. She fell for him and thought they were having a great love affair. Most romantic of allââAnnieâs tone was dryââthey never gave each other their names. What price heâs married?â Annie spooned more chili. âAnyway, he didnât show up last night and sheâs trying to find him. Iâd call and tell her to give it up, but sheâs pretty determined. Youâd think she would realize he canât really be interested in her or heâd tell her who he is! Maybe sheâll be a little savvier the next time she meets a romantic stranger.â Annie pushed away the memory of Chloeâs young, unhappy face. Chloe might have fallen in love with the idea of falling in love, but that didnât lessen the hurt.Annie almost reached for her cell phone, then steeled her resolve. She simply wasnât going to listen to Chloe moan. The episode at Snug Harbor had definitely exceeded Annieâs daily quota for misery. If it werenât for that, sheâd almost certainly look for Chloe, help her in her search. But, darn it, it was time Chloe grew up a little bit. Mr. No-Name was clearly bad news. Besides, sheâd see Chloe tonight at the gallery. Annie would make a special point to introduce her around. It would be an elegant party. Surely that would lift Chloeâs spirits.
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The house was almost two hundred years old. The two-story tabby structure, with wide verandahs on both the first and second floors, sat high on stuccoed brick arches. Nathaniel Neville had transformed it into an elegant art gallery. As his fortunes prospered in the heyday of the nineties, when the rich got infinitely richer and many of them chose to invest great sums in art works, Neville had built a huge and elegant Italian villa that was less than a five-minute walk through a live oak forest from the gallery.
Max curved into the circular drive. âThere probably isnât a spot this close, but weâll give it a try.â
Japanese lanterns decorated both verandahs and dangled from the live oak trees. The lanterns were soft smudges of color in the fog. Through the uncurtained bay windows, Annie glimpsed men in tuxedos and women in winter gowns of silver lamé or black velvet or sparkling sequins on silk. The lighted windows were brilliant in the winter