They shook hands and McCrea headed for the door.
Gavin flashed a credit card to the waiter, who had been hovering nearby. “He plays his cards very close to the vest, but you made a good impression on him. He may very well ask around.”
“Good,” I said.
He gave me a sidelong glance. “You played him like a five-string banjo.”
I shook my head. “We both like the theater. I meant everything I said. I’m guessing he’s very good in the role of Big Jule.” I pulled out my cell phone. “You tried to play me, though.”
I’d half expected him to deny it, but he didn’t. He gave me his “I’ve been a naughty boy” smile. “I knew Big Jule would be a lot more responsive to your charms than mine. And like you said, you both like the theater.”
“You knew if you just came and asked him directly if he knew anything, he wouldn’t tell you.”
He nodded. “I told you, he doesn’t show his hand for any reason.”
He pulled his car keys out of his pocket. His expression went from lighthearted to serious then. “Kathleen, I liked Margo. It was my job to keep the exhibit and anyone involved with it safe. Now it’s my job to find out what went wrong.”
“That’s a job for the police,” I said, not unaware of the irony that I was the one saying those words.
“From what I’ve heard you don’t always follow your own advice,” he said.
“Do you think Julian can help?”
Gavin’s mouth twisted to one side. “Truth? I don’t know. I do know that he knows the art world in this part of the country better than anyone else.”
“I guess we’ll just have to keep our fingers crossed,” I said. I held up my phone. “I just need to make a quick call.”
Gavin nodded. “I’ll wait for you at the car.”
Marcus answered on the second ring. “How was lunch?” he asked. “Did you learn anything?”
“Just that Julian McCrea is a fan of my mother and as far as he’s heard, no one is trying to sell the Weston drawing and no one had been putting out feelers about the piece before it was stolen.”
“You’re on your way back now.”
“Uh-huh.” I could see Gavin standing next to the car, talking on his own cell. “We’re just about to leave.”
“Can you stop at the library when you get here?” he asked.
“I can do that,” I said slowly. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was in his voice that told me he’d found something, but somehow I knew he had. “What’s going on?”
I heard voices in the background. “I’ll explain when you get here,” he said. “I have to go. See you soon.”
He was gone. I put my phone in my bag and headed outside.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that once we were back in Mayville Heights, things were going to get a lot more complicated.
13
Gavin asked me more about my family on the drive back. I noticed that when I tried to steer the conversation into his personal life he’d deftly move it back to me, the way he had when I questioned him about being rebellious.
I hadn’t told him about my conversation with Marcus. When we turned off the highway he glanced at me. “Where can I drop you?” he asked.
“The library, please,” I said. “
Gavin nodded as the car hugged the curve of the exit ramp. “I’ll come with you. I did promise your detective I’d report in.”
In the parking lot of the library I recognized the car Hope and Marcus used when they worked together. Gavin followed me up the steps to the building. The first set of doors was unlocked and the old-fashioned wrought-iron security gates were also open. I tapped on the inside door and after a moment Hope came to let me in.
“Hi,” she said. “Marcus said you were on your way. You made good time.”
“And stuck to the speed limit, Detective,” Gavin said. “More or less.” His eyebrows went up and a small smile played on his face.
Hope rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Why do I think it was less rather than more?”
Marcus was standing by the circulation desk. He smiled as he caught sight of me and I couldn’t help smiling back as I walked over to him. Curtis Holt was doing a circuit of the exhibit area, checking the windows—part of his security guard duties, I guessed.
“Before you ask, we didn’t find out anything useful,” Gavin said.
I turned to look at him over my shoulder. “Yes, we did,” I said. I shifted my gaze to Hope and Marcus. “Julian McCrea told us that he hadn’t heard anything about anyone being interested in the Weston drawing, not before it was stolen and not since.”
“Do you think he was being honest with you?” Hope asked.
“I don’t think he had any reason to lie,” I said. I looked questioningly at Gavin.
“Big Jule doesn’t lie. He might split hairs or shade the truth, but he won’t tell an outright lie.”
Hope looked skeptical.
“He won’t,” Gavin repeated. “He went to Catholic school. He told Kathleen no one had approached him about acquiring the drawing. You can take that to the bank, for what it’s worth.”
“Every little piece is part of the puzzle.” Hope made a gesture like she was fitting two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle together. “You never know which small piece will help you figure out the entire picture.”
“We found something, too,” Marcus said. There was a piece of paper on the checkout desk. He reached over and picked it up.
Gavin shot me a puzzled look. I gave an almost imperceptible shrug.
“Margo Walsh kept a date book,” Marcus continued.
I nodded slowly. “She kept everything in it. It was a small book with a maroon leather cover.” Like Maggie, Margo had kept a paper schedule instead of using her phone or computer.
“We found it today.”
Hope looked at me for a moment before looking back at Marcus. Did that mean anything? I wondered.
“So what does that mean?” Gavin asked, restlessly shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “Did Margo happen to make a note that someone wanted to kill her?”
Marcus opened the folded sheet of white paper, looked at whatever was written on it, then looked at Gavin. “No. But she did make a note about having lunch with you three weeks before you told us you’d met her for the first time.”
Gavin exhaled loudly and shrugged. “I should have guessed she’d write it down,” he said. “Margo wrote everything down.”
“Why did you lie to us?” Hope asked.
“Not because I killed her,” he said. “I was in the bar at the hotel. You know that. People saw me.” He looked from Hope to Marcus. Neither one of them said a word.
“You told me this was the first time you’d worked with Margo,” I said.
“It was,” Gavin said. “It just wasn’t the first time we’d met. I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you everything.”
“So stop playing games and tell us everything now,” Hope said.
He exhaled loudly. “Fine. Margo and I had lunch when the schedule for the exhibit was finalized.” His mouth moved like he was working on shaping his words before he spoke them. “She had big concerns about the artwork being out of a museum.”
“Why did you let everyone think you’d never met before?” Hope asked.
I glanced over at the stairs to the second floor of the building. Margo and I had been standing there when Gavin had walked into the library for the first time. I remembered her holding out her hand and saying, “Hello. You must be Gavin Solomon. I’m Margo Walsh.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Why did Margo pretend she didn’t know you?” I looked from Hope to Marcus. “I was here with her when Gavin arrived for our first meeting.” I turned to Gavin. “She introduced herself as though she’d never seen you before.”
“That’s because I asked her not to let on we’d already met.” He exhaled loudly and looked up at the ceiling. “When we met for lunch it was to go over the security details for the exhibit. The insurance company had certain requirements that had to be met. Margo . . . had some questions.” He dropped his head and looked at me. “The thing is, I work for ILG Security as a consultant, which means I can also work for other companies in the same capacity . . . as long as there isn’t a conflict of interest.”