Read Online The Throwbacks by Stephanie Queen - Free Book Online Page A

grunted and frowned. That got their attention back.
    “Hmmm. This is very strange.”
    “What?” David and Grace both said at the same time.
    “The record shows that one of the vases was sold, but no price, no invoice. I think this is the one you described to me Gracie. Take a look.”
    Grace peeked at the screen and nodded.
    “No record of who sold it—or rather, gave it away—or to whom?” David asked.
    “Only the date of transfer. Eight days ago. The retail price is ten thousand dollars, but who knows what the actual sales price was—if you know what I mean. Let me call the manager there.” Lester sounded a lot more businesslike himself now, as he tapped out a number on the cell phone he’d retrieved from his jacket pocket—the same pocket that held a spiffy turquoise pocket hanky.
    David mused about that while Lester spun around and spoke quietly enough not to be overheard. Grace glanced at David with raised brows. Even she thought this behavior odd.
    Then Lester slipped his phone back into his hankied pocket and turned to them with spread hands. “I don’t know what to tell you. The manager there hasn’t a clue what it’s about, but he’ll look into it and get back to us on the price and billing. He said he didn’t sell the vase so he’ll check with his associates. He’s sure it’s just an administrative snafu.” Lester stood and smiled.
    “Thanks for trying, Lester,” Grace said and then they all headed back out through the gallery to the main door.
    “You mentioned you had another Aquinas vase—forgive my artistic ignorance, but can you tell me which it is?” David asked.
    “Why, yes, here it is.” Lester quickly moved toward a strikingly lit display case along the wall with all manner of glass sculptures, vases and dishes. He pointed to a very large red vase with a particularly wide base.
    “You have excellent taste. Are you interested in a purchase?” Lester smiled.
    “Strictly business. I’ll keep you in mind, though.” David looked at Grace. “I am in the midst of redecorating. But in the meantime, can you do me a favor and let me know if anyone else should want to purchase this vase? Here’s my card. And of course call me when your man in New York gets back to you with those details.” David handed Lester the card and the man nodded.
    After he and Grace were back on the street, she blew out a whistle. “I love watching you work, detective,” she said and walked to her door. He followed her and opened it for her. She stopped short where they stood close and gave him another one of those very addictive looks where he felt like he was the savior of the free world. Even back in the day when he could make such a claim, no one had ever looked at him in quite the way she did. He didn’t know whether to be afraid or smitten. He suspected he was both.
    They got in the car and she drove him back to his place so he could finally change his clothes.

    “You actually work for Scotland Yard?” Grace asked him as they got out of the taxi in front of the O’Keefe’s house in Charlestown.
    “Technically, yes. I’m with the Boston Police Department as the director of their exchange program with the Met—Scotland Yard.” He knocked on the door of the clapboard house. It wasn’t far from his Beacon Hill townhouse, but it was a far different kind of neighborhood within sight and sound of the harbor and Old Ironsides.
    “Technically speaking, what’s your official Scotland Yard title?” she asked with wide eyes.
    “I was Detective Chief Superintendent of the Flying Squad—before my… transfer ,” he said, but he thought exile .
    He’d called ahead and talked to Esther. She said some day she would appreciate this as a funny episode and retell the story with hysterical laughter. Tonight she was annoyed—concerned for her friend mostly. But Esther was a good egg and she would try to help David finesse the fine line. He had to promise he’d ask her friend out on a date—alone. And