Weave of Absence by Carol Ann Martin Page A

with a married woman, that would explain why he was still single. And more importantly, why he was taking so little notice of me.
    â€œI didn’t mean unavailable in that way. She just doesn’t like me the way I like her.” He tilted his head and stared at me. “Why aren’t you attached?”
    I blushed. “Oh, I guess I’m just too involved with starting my business to have time for love and romance.” I cleared my throat and changed the subject before he could see how his question had rattled me. “About men liking older women, I might agree with you except that I saw the way he made a beeline for Melinda Wilson at that party. And you know how beautiful Melinda is.”
    â€œI still think you could be wrong. Any idea where he’s from?” he asked.
    â€œSeattle, according to Liz Carter. She’s the one who introduced Bruce to Marnie.”
    â€œHe shouldn’t be too hard to trace.”
    â€œI’m so glad you’ll look into him.”
    â€œHold on. Don’t get all excited. I’m just going to run his name through the system, see if he has a criminal record. And, to be honest, I know this is a complete waste of time. I fully expect him tocome out clean. If it was for anybody else, I would never agree to do this.”
    â€œThanks. I’ll owe you one. And what should I do about the police? You know, about not mentioning that I saw him arguing with Helen at the party.”
    â€œTell me again what you saw.”
    I described the scene, right down to the way Helen Dubois was stabbing Doherty in the chest with her finger while he looked around nervously.
    â€œMaybe he was embarrassed. Being caught in an argument in the middle of a party would be uncomfortable. He would have wanted to put an end to it as fast as he could.”
    â€œMaybe,” I said, unconvinced.
    â€œDon’t worry. I promised I’d look into him, and that’s exactly what I’ll do. What’s his surname?”
    â€œDoherty.” I spelled it out for him and he scribbled it on a piece of paper.
    â€œSo where’s that dessert? I picked pie because I know that’s your favorite,” he said, and the atmosphere lightened.
    â€œWish I could say I cooked it,” I said, chuckling.
    He poured the coffee while I served the pie. A few minutes later we settled in the living room and ate in companionable silence. At one point I happened to glance at him and was surprised to find him staring at me with a contented smile. It occurred to me that if he had been sitting next to me rather than across from me, he might have leaned over and kissed me right about now. Idebated moving over to the sofa, and just as I was gathering my courage, he stood.
    â€œWell, that was a pleasant evening, but I think I’d better get going. I have a lot of writing to do tomorrow.” Winston trotted over to him and he bent down to scratch his head. “Want to go home, big boy?”
    Winston went into a break dance.
Traitor
. Why did he have to look so happy?

Chapter 7
    I was at the store at eight o’clock the next morning, opening my copy of the
Belmont Daily
and in desperate need of a cup of java. If I didn’t get one soon, I would go into serious caffeine withdrawal. Hopefully Jenny would be here soon. I glanced at the headlines, expecting to find the usual small-town article—something about a local spelling bee, or maybe a high school football game, but to my surprise, today’s big, bold letters screamed BREAK - IN AT THE LONGVIEW . And underneath in slightly smaller print, T HIEVES G ET A WAY WIT H V ALUABLE P AINTING .
    Oh, no
. I knew just the painting they were talking about.
Poor Bunny
. Bunny was a local success story. She was born and raised in Briar Hollow, and then, a couple of decades ago, she moved to New York and became an interior designer. Now she was a nationally known television personality and star of her own decorating show. A few