Blood Rubies by Jane K. Cleland Page B

a quote on new carpet for the front office. Eric and Sasha were discussing a furniture pickup she’d scheduled for that afternoon. Fred was reading something on his monitor. Another busy day at Prescott’s.
    â€œEveryone?” I said.
    They all looked up, even Cara and Gretchen.
    â€œWhen you’re off the phone,” I mouthed.
    While we waited for their calls to end, everyone’s eyes were on my face.
    â€œI don’t know if any of you have heard the news about Jason … I’m certain Wes has already posted updates. If not, I’m afraid I’m the bearer of bad news.” Cara frowned. Sasha began twirling her hair. Fred pushed up his glasses and cocked his head. Gretchen leaned forward, her eyes reflecting her concern. Eric pressed his lips together. “Ana’s friend Jason is dead, and it looks like murder, but it’s too soon to know anything definitive.” Gretchen’s hand flew to cover her mouth. Cara gasped. “It happened at Ana’s house. There’s nothing else I can tell you at this point.” I took in air. “We’ve been asked to help the police with an antiques-related aspect of the investigation.” I looked at Sasha, then Fred. “What are your schedules like today? I may need help re-creating an object from broken pieces.”
    â€œI’m open all day,” Fred said, his tone subdued.
    â€œI have a call with the director of the Vienna Snow Globe Museum at noon,” Sasha said, her anxiety apparent. “Other than that, I can help. Or I could reschedule the call if you wanted me to.”
    â€œWe’ll see. The analysis may take all of us working together. The object is in so many minuscule pieces, it’s unrecognizable.”
    Fred leaned back, intrigued. “Minuscule—all of it?”
    â€œSome bits are microscopic.”
    â€œThat’s a challenge, all right.”
    â€œHow is Ana holding up?” Cara asked kindly. “And her friend, Heather, wasn’t it?”
    â€œAna was pretty shaken up, but her dad is in town, and he seems to be a real support for her. I haven’t seen Heather since it happened, but you can imagine how she must be feeling.” I paused. “Each of us has to process something like this in his or her own way. Take as much time as you need—I mean it. Take the rest of the day off if you want.” I scanned their attentive faces. “You know me, so you know that in times of strife, work is my salvation. Just because that’s how I cope, though, doesn’t mean it should be your strategy. Do what’s best for you.”
    â€œI’ll stay,” Fred said.
    â€œMe, too,” Sasha added.
    â€œI have a pick-up,” Eric said, “and two deliveries. I’m fine to go.”
    â€œI’m going to call Jack,” Gretchen said. “If he can get off work for lunch … I think I’d like to be with him for a while.”
    â€œGood idea,” I told her.
    â€œI’d rather be here,” Cara said, “with all of you, than home alone.”
    â€œAll right, then.” I turned to Sasha. “It’s moot now, of course, but what did Ana think of those chess sets?”
    As always, the moment the conversation turned to antiques or art, even in an atmosphere of uncertainty and fear, Sasha blossomed.
    â€œShe liked them, but said even the lowest price was more than she wanted to spend.”
    â€œAs expected,” I said. “What are you working on, Fred?”
    He grinned and leaned to the side, placing his left elbow on his armrest and propping his chin on the back of his hand. He looked like he was posing for a high-end art photo.
    Much to my enduring surprise, despite being, from all appearances, a quintessential New Yorker, Fred was happy in smaller, quieter Rocky Point. Nine years after moving to New Hampshire, he still wore the Italian suits and skinny ties in a place where most men wore flannel