Just Before Sunrise by Carla Neggers Read Free Book Online

large gourmet coffees, and two fat, warm wild blueberry scones an hour before their noon opening. "Sorry, Otto," Zoe said, lifting the scones from their bag. "None for you."
    "Don't let him fool you," Annie said. "He just had a treat. We went for a run on the beach first thing this morning."
    "I'll bet no one bothered you with a rottweiler at your side."
    "Not a soul."
    Zoe laid out the scones on paper napkins on the chest-high half-moon desk in the far left corner of Annie's Gallery, then uncapped the coffees. She was in her late thirties—tall, angular, dark, thin— and had two children in junior high and a doctor husband who tolerated, if not endorsed, her passion for aromatherapy. Her inexhaustible wardrobe was in just two colors: black and ivory. Today she wore black knit pants and an ivory sweater and looked sleek and sophisticated. Annie, having had to rebuild her wardrobe from scratch, was enjoying the freedom of dressing for herself. She still tended to scope out the sales and stick to neutrals, preferring to keep her expenses down until she was better established in San Francisco. Given her morning of cleaning, she'd opted for a chamois-colored jacket over slim jeans, with her ankle boots, good watch, and silver earrings.
    "I see you made the Sunday paper," Zoe said.
    Annie sat on the edge of one of her two tall swivel chairs. "I did?"
    "Yep. You hit the local gossip column. That'll teach you to buy a painting out from under Garvin MacCrae. What were you thinking, m'girl?" Zoe whipped out the paper and thrust a long, unpolished fingernail at the paragraph in question. "There. 'Annie Payne, owner of the new Annie's Gallery on Union Street, shocked the two hundred gathered for the Linwood auction on Saturday when she outbid Garvin MacCrae for an amateur painting of his murdered wife."
    Blood draining from her face, Annie snatched the paper. "Let me see."
    Going on in the same snide tone, the columnist related how MacCrae had "thrown in the towel" at five thousand dollars and Annie had "gleefully picked up her prize before the crowd could hiss her out of the elegant ballroom, just down the hall from where Haley Linwood MacCrae lost her life."
    "Did they really hiss?" Zoe asked, biting into her scone.
    Annie winced, remembering the hostility directed toward her after she'd bought the painting. "Pretty close to it. Oh. Did you see this? It says Garvin MacCrae looked 'fit to be tied' and had 'vengeance in his eyes when he stormed out of the Linwood house.' Actually, I saw him afterward. He didn't seem to have any hard feelings. He even tried to help me get the painting into my car. Otto was being a pain and—"
    "Well, that explains it. I'd pretend I had no hard feelings with Otto around, too." Hearing his name, Otto stirred under the desk. Zoe, who loved dogs, scratched him with her toe. "You scared that mean old Garvin MacCrae, didn't you, buddy?" She sipped her cappuccino, eyeing Annie. "So. What do you want with that painting?"
    Annie had anticipated Zoe's question and was therefore prepared. "I was asked to buy it for someone who wishes to remain anonymous."
    "No kidding. You can't tell me?"
    "That was the deal I made."
    "Puts you in an awkward position, doesn't it? Well, I'm not going to ask you to break a confidence—not that you would."
    "I can tell you this much—I had no idea the painting was of a murder victim, or even of a Linwood."
    Zoe made a face. "Then you stumbled into this thing blind? Eeekk. Five grand's a lot to pay for a painting by an unknown artist. Your anonymous buyer must have wanted it badly." She eyed Annie hopefully. "Not going to budge, are you? Your integrity is to be admired. I hope you got a decent commission for putting up with the insult."
    Annie frowned. "I hope this doesn't hurt my reputation that much. I really didn't know who Garvin MacCrae was—"
    "Not to worry, Annie. The publicity'll bring in the window-shoppers, you wait." She slid off her chair. Naturally, Zoe being Zoe, she