Mystral Murder (Julie O'Hara Mystery Series) by Lee Hanson Page B

They’re duping some of these older folks with this crap. Retirees on fixed income, thinking they’re doing their children a favor by leaving them fine art. The only “fine” that applies here is the amount they should levy on these auctioneers.
    “Oh, look, Phil. It’s Julie!”  Alice Kent led her husband through the crowd toward Julie. Her hands were full of materials kindly supplied by the scam artists running the auction: a brochure, a small pad of paper and a pencil. Julie saw that Alice’s pad was full of notes.
    “Hi, Alice, Phil. Are you going to the auction?”
    “Yes, I think it will be fun,” Alice said. “We’ve seen a few things we like.”
    “I do a little art collecting; would you like a couple of tips?”
    “Please,” Phil said.
    Julie had to restrain herself from smiling. Phil Kent’s relief was written on his face. Clearly, he wasn’t the art lover Alice was.
    “Okay. Number one: Slide your hand under the corner of a frame. No matter how nice it looks from the front, if you feel staples, it’s junk. No one puts a valuable piece of art in a cheap frame, especially at an auction. Number two, get all the info: The name of the artist and the title, of course. Also, words like, ‘hand-touched’ or ‘embellished’ and ‘signed’, which is common, or ‘autographed’, which isn’t. Take your list to the Internet Café, look them up and compare prices. And remember, it’s much easier to return something you buy locally, on land.”
    “That’s good advice,” Phil said, nodding at his wife.
    “Yes, I suppose it is,” Alice sighed. “Come on, Phil. I think I’ll check the frame on that Thomas Kinkade lithograph.”
    Probably one of the priciest here, since Kinkade died last month.
    “Okay, see you guys. Good luck!”
    Julie turned back to her iced tea, smiling.
    “That was good advice,” the bartender said in an aside, as he wiped the bar.
    “I had dinner with them the other night,” Julie said. “They’re nice folks.”
    “So are you. Julie O’Hara, isn’t it?”
    Julie looked at him quizzically.  A tall fellow with sandy hair, he was wearing a name tag …but she wasn’t.
    “Paul Gilman,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m the Head Bartender on the ship. I worked this lounge during your seminar. My wife bought your book, Clues .”
    Julie shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Paul. Your wife is onboard?”
    “Yep. Valerie Jean Gilman, she’s the Cruise Director.”
    “Oh, yes! Val Gilman,” Julie said, remembering Jon Reece’s comment about Val calling him to cancel their interview. “I didn’t know married couples could do that, work and travel together on a ship.”
    “There aren’t a lot of us; most of the crew is single. You have to interview and be hired separately, but as long as neither of you is subordinate to the other, there’s no problem.”
    “Well, I guess that leaves the Captain out,” Julie said laughing.
    “ Heh…guess you’re right,” he said, moving to the other side of the bar to wait on a customer.
    Uh-huh, what have we here? A nice little cluster: a fake laugh, a tilted nod and a half-smile. The Head Bartender knows about Captain Collier’s affair with Dr. Sinclair…and most of the crew does, too, I’ll bet.
    Julie saw Joe passing through the Photo Gallery on his way to meet her. She took a last swallow of her iced tea and said, “Good to meet you, Paul. See you later.”
    “Bye, Julie. Nice talking to you. Have a good day.”
    Julie met Joe before he got to the Odyssey. She took his arm and turned him around, heading for the elevator at the front of the ship.
    “Joe. We’ve got to go back to our room and work out a new plan. We’ve left a very big stone unturned.”
    “Oh, no,” he groaned. “I knew it. I knew you weren’t going to let this go. What big stone?”
    “I mean there’s a whole other world on this ship. There are a thousand people in the crew who are single and married and live out of sight beneath the