2 Pane of Death (6 page)

“Is that unusual in your business?”

“Not really. Hey, you’ve read the papers—companies like this start up and fold all the time. Peter managed to ride out the dot-com bust pretty well, and it looks as though it was due to good management and a healthy cash balance more than luck—which is to his credit. He also had a strong product. Don’t know how much of which he was directly responsible for—I know he’s something of a legend for some of his early programs, but that was a while ago. The guy’s what—fifty?”

Cam hadn’t yet reached forty, so fifty probably seemed ancient to him—especially among programmers. “I’d guess. So if he had survived this long, why did he decide to fold?”

Cam shook his head. “I’m not sure. Could have been personality conflict, internally. There’s one guy who’s been the most vocal about the dissolution of the company. His name’s Andrew Foster. He’d been there from the beginning, and he thought he didn’t get a fair deal.”

“Lawsuit?”

“No, nothing like that. Just a lot of complaining to the press, and then they stopped listening.”

“So if he had had any real grounds, he would have sued?”

“Maybe. This is just a first pass—I can dig some more if you really want. How much do you need to know?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. I just don’t want to waste my time with this commission if it isn’t going to pan out. Hey, while you’re at it, can you check out his collection of glass? What he’s been buying and what he’s paid for it?”

Cam grinned at me. “Thinking of padding your bill?”

“No, just curious. The art market always seems crazy to me anyway, but since he’s got the bucks to play in it, I’d like to know what it’s worth. And I think I met his dealer, or one of them—a guy named Ian Gemberling. Maybe that would be a good starting point.”

“Not a problem.” Cam finished his coffee and went back to his laptop. He returned more quickly this time. “There’s not a lot of stuff online, and it looks like the big dealers and houses are pretty cagey about dollars, but I think it’s safe to say that big-name glass panels go for mid to high six figures, maybe more. You know how much he’s got?”

“Not yet. I’ve seen the house, and I think he’s talking about maybe six rooms? I don’t think he’s going to mix and match pieces—more like one room, one window. Maybe. Maddy didn’t seem very clear about it, or maybe she just didn’t want to tell me. So let’s say two or three million, if they’re important pieces.”

Cam whistled. “Must be nice. So, what’s going on with this Maddy person?”

“I really don’t know. We’re in the same business, sort of, but if you want to know the truth, I think she’s a lightweight turning out pretty tourist pieces. She seems to do well enough at it. But that doesn’t explain where she met Peter, or why he thinks she’s up to the job.” I wondered if I’d ever find out—I was pretty sure Maddy wasn’t going to fill me in.

“The rich aren’t like you and me,” Cam intoned.

“Yeah, they’ve got more money.” I finished the quote for him. “Well, I’m willing to play along unless and until Maddy becomes too much of a pain in the butt. I don’t need the business that much. Although it was fun meeting a real live titan of industry. Did you ever cross paths?”

“I wish,” Cam answered. “I’ve looked at some of his code, and it’s really elegant. There are a couple of things I’d love to ask him about. You don’t think . . . ?” He looked hopeful.

“Not with Maddy standing guard at the gates. We’ll have to see.” I caught a glimpse of my wall clock. “Shoot, it’s getting late, and I’ve got a class to teach tomorrow. You want to walk the dogs, or shall I?”

“I’ll do it—I need to stretch my legs after the drive.”

“Thanks. I’ll grab a shower. Breakfast?”

“Great.”

He assembled leashes and headed out with the pups. I gathered up the papers he’d left scattered on the table, wondering idly what it would be like to spend as much money as you liked for a piece of art. What would I buy, if I had that chance? Something to think about.

Breakfast at my place is kind of a haphazard affair. Both Cam and I are morning people, so we mesh well there, but mostly we forage for whatever we can find to eat.

“What’ve you got on for today?” I asked, finishing my coffee. I knew I had a full day ahead of me.

He shrugged. “Allison and I are having dinner. She’s off tomorrow, right?”

“Yup. I figured you’d be out tonight, so I’m meeting Matt.” Since we had gotten back together, Matt and I were taking things slowly. Tonight we were going on a real date: Matt was taking me out to dinner. It was kind of nice, being courted. “Will you be out, uh, late?”

Cam tried to keep a straight face and failed. “Want a little privacy? We can go to Allison’s place, although it’s not quite as luxurious as these accommodations.”

I looked for something to throw at him, but we’d eaten all the soft stuff. “Hey, I’m putting you up for free. I could go to Matt’s place,” I offered, with less than complete conviction. Matt still hadn’t succeeded in exorcizing his ex-wife Lorena’s presence from his house.

Cam sat back in his chair. “Isn’t this ridiculous? You’d think we were kids. And backseats sure aren’t big enough anymore.”

“How did we manage to miss all that, back then?”

“I don’t know. I can’t make up my mind whether it’s better or worse this way.”

“I know what you mean.” I wasn’t as insecure as I had been at twenty-something, and I was certainly less easily embarrassed, but sometimes I wondered if I had missed the romantic boat, and I still wasn’t sure how or why. But Matt and I had something good, and it would lead wherever it led. I was in no rush—or at least, not the way Cam was.

I stood up and dusted the crumbs from my lap. “I’ll walk the doggies, and then I’ve got to get to work. Let me know if your plans change. Walkies, my loves?” Fred and Gloria had stationed themselves at my feet, hoping for a stray chunk of something yummy, but a walk was almost as good.

Dogs satisfied, I plunged into my day, and the next time I looked up it was after five. When my class was over, I cleaned up the studio and went back to the shop to catch up with Allison. Since she was with a customer, I wandered around my display area, repositioning articles on the shelves and making mental notes about what was selling well so I could make more. As I walked among the shelves, I couldn’t help eavesdropping on Allison: She had picked up the language of glass quickly, and as a bonus, most patrons seemed intrigued by her soft Irish accent. She made a good salesperson, not that I wanted to keep her chained in my shop forever.

When she’d handed the customers their carefully wrapped package, she looked up to see me watching and smiled. “A nice sale, that one.”

“And not the first. Business has really picked up lately, with both you and Nessa working up front. I hadn’t realized how many people I lost when we were too busy.”

“Ah, I’m happy to help.”

“So, are you seeing Cam tonight?”

“I am. Em . . .” She hesitated, struggling for words. “You know I care for him, but he wants things to move so fast, and I’m not sure—”

I interrupted. “Don’t worry about it. I already told him not to push. And I’m behind you all the way. You need to figure out what
you
want, and then you can think about what Cam wants.”

“Thank you. I didn’t want to make trouble between us all.”

“No way. So, can you close up? I want to go get ready for my date of the week.”

She almost giggled. “Ah, that’s right—Matt’s squiring you tonight. You go right on and pretty yourself. I can handle things here.”

“You have a good evening too, and I’ll see you when I see you.”

I made my escape, went upstairs, fed and walked the dogs, showered—hey, glassmaking is hot work—and was just putting on the finishing touches—my earrings—when Matt arrived.

I opened the door for him. “Good evening, sir. My, you look spiffy.”

He raised one eyebrow. “Spiffy? That’s the best you can do? You, madame, look quite beguiling.”

“Ooh, I don’t think I’ve ever been beguiling before. Is that a good thing?”

“In my opinion, yes, most definitely. Are you ready? Because we have reservations.”

“Oh my, a place that takes reservations. That
is
special.” I gathered up a light coat and my purse, and we sallied forth into the night.

 

“Matt, there’s something I wanted to ask you about,” I said, twirling the last of my wine in my glass. This was a really nice restaurant. Excellent food, happy patrons. And good company.

Matt leaned back and tilted his head at me. “That sounds ominous.”

“No, not really. You see, I’ve been asked to work on a project, and I have a few questions. . . .”

“That you need to ask a policeman?” Matt straightened again, alert now.

“Nothing illegal. Look, none of this is official yet, but I wondered . . .” Why was I having such trouble putting my question into words? “Do you know Peter Ferguson?”

I’d managed to surprise him. “The computer guy? Is that what this is about?”

I nodded. “He asked a, uh, colleague of mine to oversee the installation of his glass collection at his house here in Tucson, and she asked me to help her out.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“For one thing, it’s a very valuable collection. And I know he’s security conscious—he’s got the electronics in place at his house already, and he hasn’t even moved in.”

“You’ve been there?”

“Yes. Maddy took me over to check it out. She says she wants me to make glass components for the lighting, to coordinate with the collection pieces.”

“Do I know Maddy?”

“Probably not. She’s got a shop a couple of blocks from me—makes stained-glass thingies.”

He looked at me critically. I seldom can slip anything by Matt, but explaining why I didn’t like Maddy would just complicate things right now. Luckily he didn’t press. “All right,” Matt said neutrally. “What is it you want from me?”

“Two things, I guess. One, can you tell me anything about the security in his neighborhood? Edge of the east side, overlooking the park. Two . . .” I paused, uncertain how to phrase this. “Is there anything I need to know about the guy?”

“As in, what? Is he mobbed up? Is he on the run from someone? That kind of thing?”

When he said it out loud, I realized how silly it sounded. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’m just trying to make sure there aren’t any problems on the horizon before I commit to doing anything. Right now I have no idea how much time this might take, but I don’t want to waste it.”

“Fair enough. Okay, the answer to the first question is that our taxpayers make sure that we keep a visible presence in that particular neighborhood, and we endeavor to keep them happy. And I understand some areas up there have hired supplemental security. I’d be willing to bet some of my force are picking up extra dollars doing that, on their own time. About the other, I can’t say that I know much. You want me to run a criminal check, that kind of thing?”

I thought for a moment, realizing what an awkward position this put him in. “No, I guess not. I mean, he’s a public figure, so if there was any dirt, like a criminal record, somebody would have found it by now. But if you hear anything out of the ordinary, would you let me know?”

“Of course. Are you going to meet the guy?”

“I already have, yesterday.”

“Ah. What’s he like? I only know what I’ve read in the papers.”

“Not at all what I expected. Smart—I figured that. But from what little I’ve seen, he really cares about glass. It’s not just, dare I say it, window dressing for somebody with a lot of money who wants to show off. Although apparently he does have lots of money. The collection could be worth millions.”

“Interesting. Well, thanks for the heads-up—it’s good to know he’s in town. Now, can we talk about something more interesting? Like dessert?”

After dinner we drove back to my home. Matt pulled in behind the building, where I normally park. He turned to me. “May I see you to your door?”

“Certainly, kind sir. And may I offer you the proverbial nightcap?”

“I would be delighted to avail myself of your hospitality. Um, you said something about Cam visiting?”

“I did, but he claimed he was going to be out this evening, so we should have the place to ourselves.”

“Excellent.”

We climbed the stairs and enjoyed the dogs’ welcome—they liked Matt, thank goodness.

“Would you mind giving them a quick walk around the block? That way I can slip into something more comfortable, and see if I can find that nightcap.”

“I am at your service. But once around the block, right? My patience only stretches so far.”

“Deal.” I handed him the leashes. “Now, go!”

I watched as he disappeared into the darkness with Fred and Gloria, then turned back to my space. Matt was a good man, and in many ways we were well suited. But as I looked around my home, which I had found and bought and shaped into exactly what I wanted, I wondered if I could give it up—not that he had asked—or if I could see him somehow fitting into it—not that
I
had asked. Somehow I had always thought that by this point in my life I would know what I wanted, and now I was finding I had been wrong.
Enough, Em!
There was no urgency to make a decision right now, and I should just enjoy the moment and let the future take care of itself.