The Monet Murders (The Art of Murder 2)

Durrand added, “Also, his partner passed away nine months ago. I think he was missing Klaus and feeling retrospective.”

So…pushy and lonely? According to Anna Rodell, earlier in the day Kerk had been upbeat and happy and “enjoying the vibe.” Had something happened between the visit to Bergamot Station and Fletcher-Durrand?

“Partner,” Jason repeated. “Was Kerk gay?”

“Bisexual, actually.” Durrand smiled meaningfully at Jason.

So. Okay. That made Paul Farrell’s comment about Kerk sounding like he expected to get lucky all the more interesting.

“Do you know who Kerk had lunch with earlier that day?” Jason asked.

Durrand shook his head. “No idea.”

“We know he was supposed to fly out of LAX tomorrow. Would you happen to know what his plans were for the rest of the week? Whether he was meeting with other old friends?”

“No. I really don’t know. He was in good spirits on Friday. He didn’t mention his plans for the rest of his stay. We talked art. You know how it is.”

Yes, Jason knew how it was. And he thought it strange and unlikely that Kerk wouldn’t have discussed his itinerary at all. He also thought Durrand had a way of offering and retracting information in almost the same breath.

“I see. Thank you for your help,” he said. “If you should think of anything else, you can r

each me here.” He handed over one of his cards.

“You never know, do you?” Durrand winked at him. Jason was a winker himself, but the open invitation of that deliberate flick of eyelid surprised him.

“Uh, no. You don’t.”

Still smiling broadly, Durrand tucked the card in his shirt pocket and patted it as though for safekeeping.

Chapter Six

“Here comes trouble,” George said with resignation as Jason strolled into his office later that afternoon.

Jason dropped into the uncomfortable plastic chair in front of George’s desk and crossed one ankle over his knee. “Admit it. You’re living vicariously through me, George.”

George rolled his eyes. “Yes. I confess. I secretly dream of being a workaholic single guy reading art books and eating TV dinners alone every evening.”

“They don’t call them TV dinners anymore, FYI. Anyway, sometimes I splurge and get fast food. Hey, I want to fly to New York tonight. I think I might be able to corner Barnaby Durrand at the family estate.”

George sat back, looking skeptical. “Is this your way of getting out of working with Kennedy?”

“Hell no. Anyway, Kennedy’s gone.”

“Oh? I didn’t realize.”

“Something came up. He’s on his way north. He asked me to finish the interviews and send him my report.”

George said in a fatherly tone, “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No.”

George grinned at Jason’s grudging admission. “Okay. Fill out the travel request, leave it on my desk, and I’ll sign it first thing tomorrow. How long are you planning to be gone?”

“Three days including travel time ought to be more than enough.”

“You don’t want to take someone with you?”

Like every other field office in the country, they were suffering a personnel crunch, and ACT investigations were low priority at the best of times.