Liar's Key by Carla Neggers Page A

region.”
    â€œConflict region? I like that.”
    A hint of irritation in her pretty eyes. “It’s just a phrase, Gordy.”
    He moved to another set of open shelves. “Are any of the items from your mother’s collection?”
    â€œSome.”
    He smiled. “Your idea of heaven, sitting here surrounded by all this ancient stuff.”
    â€œI suppose it is.” She glanced past him to a display of worn coins at his shoulder. “It’s amazing to think an Athenian held those coins in his hand thousands of years ago.”
    Gordy couldn’t deny it. “Sure is.”
    â€œMy great-grandfather, Horace Norwood, started collecting antiquities on his travels, before modern protocols for the excavation and removal of artifacts from archaeological sites and source countries were in place. My grandfather and mother added to the collection over the years. It was a different world then. As scrupulous as they were, they might do things differently now.”
    â€œThe antiquities trade has been complicated and controversial for hundreds of years,” Gordy said. “It’s easy to get into trouble even if you know what you’re doing.”
    Claudia flushed. “I’ll ignore that. As you know, my mother had a particular affinity for mosaics and supported on-site training in mosaic conservation and preservation techniques. I’ve carried on her work, but I don’t know how long I’ll keep it up. And I’ve stopped acquiring any new pieces.”
    Gordy appreciated Claudia’s passion for her family collection of ancient art and artifacts but had never shared it. “I’d rather have a new set of golf clubs,” he said with a wink. “How much of the Norwood collection do you figure is fake, looted or otherwise illegitimate?”
    â€œStill the cynic, I see,” she said, some of her initial tension visibly easing. “Every ancient piece here in the gallery has been fully vetted. It’s authentic, with a clear provenance, and not only legal but ethical to put on the market. A portion of any proceeds from the sale of pieces from my family’s collection will go to conservation and preservation efforts. I can’t imagine a more fitting tribute to my mother. She always saw herself as a steward rather than a true owner of some extraordinary works of the ancient past.”
    Gordy studied Claudia, letting her get a little uncomfortable with the silence before he spoke again. “Was Alessandro Pearson helping you sort out your family’s collection before he died?”
    Claudia jumped slightly, as if startled by his question. “Not really. I was still getting things organized. My mother had already arranged to sell the Norwood pieces on display here. Alessandro was quite elderly but his death was still a complete shock. I heard his heart gave out.” She narrowed her eyes, frowning. “Is this why you’re all cloak-and-dagger, Gordy? Because an elderly English academic who was an expert on antiquities died suddenly?”
    Gordy grinned, trying to look confident, at ease. “I’ll cop to being jet-lagged, not cloak-and-dagger. Never did go in for that sort of thing.” He nodded to the gallery displays. “Did Alessandro help your mother figure out what was worth selling?”
    â€œHe was more interested in her preservation work since mosaics were his particular area of expertise.”
    â€œHe and Wendell Sharpe were friends.”
    â€œAs much as the Sharpes are friends with anyone,” Claudia said half under her breath. She waved a hand, blushing. “I’m so sorry. That was uncalled for. There’s nothing suspicious about Alessandro’s death, is there? It’s sad, of course, but he was an old man who had a heart attack and fell.”
    Gordy wondered what she’d have been saying about him if he’d died last night. An out-of-shape old FBI agent who’d tripped and