Free Loving Grace by Eve Asbury

case.”
    “Gasp! Grace, snooping, another human
trait.”
    “Don’t be an ass. I just wonder why you
didn’t tell me.”
    “You’re not interested in my cases, too
sleazy, remember?"
    “Okay. So, I wasn’t. But he’s a made a splash
here—”
    “Everywhere,” he cut in. “He’s on the tube
and in the papers, and on the lips of the highbrow crowd. I went to
a party with Jill the other night and everyone was talking about
him.”
    “From your notes, I gather he was
faithful?”
    “Yeah. But...”
    “But?”
    He sighed. She heard a rattle sound and knew
he was clinking the ice in his glass, probably starring at it
thoughtfully. Her brother had some predictable habits. He said
finally, “I’m good at what I do. I didn’t buy the whole act. She
wants him watched. She thinks I’m still keeping tabs on him. I told
her that my, ah, assistant was. Thing is, she likes to know where
he is and what he’s doing. I get the uncomfortable feeling that she
and that Bryce swank are controlling everything. You know what they
say about artists; they want to paint, create, and they’re supposed
to be somewhere between eccentric and egomaniacs, obsessed. Hell. I
dunno, Grace. He leaves the business up to them, but I think she
controls who he talks to, and deals with outside the art
stuff.”
    “That’s interesting.”
    “Wow, your time off must be broadening your
mind.”
    “Cute. I did go to a show and meet him. He’s
a nice guy, a genius at what he does. I didn’t find him full of
himself so much as intense, in a brooding way.”
    “Better and better, my sister is coming out
of her cave and seeing the world.”
    “I’m going to hang up if you keep doing
that.” She laughed. “Come on, tell me what you sense about this
case.”
    “Other than the fact the two keep him behind
a wall? I think they’re lovers, Elise and Bryce. But hey, the art
types might be free about that stuff. The guy could be cool with
it, get off on it, for all I know.”
    “And?”
    “And I have been thinking about it a lot.
It’s residue, a drawback of doing my line of work. I almost
canceled this vacation.”
    “That is serious, when something tempts you
from both women and fun.”
    He chuckled. “I got the cast off now. Still
have to wear a brace. But no dancing.”
    “The Hawthorn case?”
    “Oh, yeah. See, I can understand she wants
tabs on him, so he don’t get suspicious of her fooling with the
partner, providing Noel doesn’t know about the affair. She more or
less said the guy spends most of his time painting. However,
there’s a feeling, something off that just blips on my radar
screen. See?”
    “Yes.”
    “Grace, I couldn’t manipulate you into being
my eyes and ears, could I? Since you’re obviously not leaving town
and you obviously met the guy.”
    She gave herself a few moments to appear as
reluctant as she normally would. Nevertheless, she was relieved to
have some way to be honest, at least partly, with someone about her
activities. “I guess I could. I took along your camera, just
borrowed it thinking I’d take some photos of the holiday
decorations and how they dress up the old city this time of year. I
took a few of that gallery and of Elise and Bryce.”
    Okay, so that was half of the truth. She’d
have to explain the rest at some point.
    “Damn. I knew that underneath that boring
life, you really would make a good PI. Dad loved puzzles. He used
to be in one of those genius groups, that solved crimes.”
    “I didn’t know that.”
    “Yeah. He never talked about it. Couldn’t
sometimes. But I found out. I think that’s what steered me more
toward my own profession.”
    “You could have been a cop.”
    “Doesn’t pay well. And I’m my own boss, set
my own hours. I get to pick and choose my cases.”
    “Yes. I can see the sense of electing to do
PI work.”
    “Is it snowing there?”
    “No. Just dreary. I left your Christmas gift
at the apartment.”
    “Another vacuum cleaner? A gift