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“You’d think, with economic problems, political scandals and natural disasters, there’d be more important things for them to report on,” he said.

“But that’s exactly why this story is so interesting to people—it’s a distraction. An escape. And it’s local.”

“Yeah, I guess so. And everyone loves a mystery.”

“Those reporters have made life for Shaw just as difficult,” she went on, “catching him at Mocha Mama’s, hounding him for more details. The poor kid doesn’t know what to say or do. It’s a mess.”

Will was finished with this topic—he didn’t have anything else to add—but she seemed preoccupied and unsettled. The more she mentioned the incident, the more agitated she became. “The sheriff’s doing what he can, but for heaven’s sake, those bones have been there for years and years!”

Will nodded; that was true enough.

“All this negative attention has drawn Tanni and Shaw closer together. I think they both need breathing room. A break from each other.”

“It couldn’t hurt,” Will agreed. After a moment, he said, “Shaw’s a talented artist. Especially of portraits.”

“Tanni is, too,” she was quick to remind him.

“Definitely, although she doesn’t want her work displayed.”

“I don’t understand it. Ever since we lost…my husband, Tanni insists her work is for her alone. I’d hoped that once Shaw’s portraits were displayed in the gallery, she’d be willing to place a couple of her pieces there, too.”

Will had also hoped for that. Not because he felt her work would sell easily. It wouldn’t. Her paintings and drawings were dark, moody and didn’t really appeal to him. But he believed in presenting a range of work. And if he were to display Tanni’s art, he’d have more of an opportunity to talk to Shirley. Maybe not the most commendable of motives, but he couldn’t deny it.

“When I saw Tanni before Christmas,” he said, “I talked to her about putting her art in the gallery.”

“You did?” Shirley’s gaze shot to him.

“Yes. She’s as good as Shaw, and she’s more versatile.”

“She wasn’t interested, right?”

“Right.” He supposed that eventually she’d agree, but he hadn’t pressured her. The girl seemed to champion her boyfriend, wanting to give him the edge. She’d soon learn what a mistake that was, he thought cynically.

“I appreciate what you’ve already done for Shaw.”

He shrugged. Again, his motives had been far from pure. Yes, Shaw was talented, but Will knew very well that he might not have taken the kid’s work to Larry Knight if not for his connection to Shirley.

“I might be able to help you,” he said, reaching for his wine.

That immediately got Shirley’s interest. “How?”

“The friend I mentioned.”

“Yes?”

“It’s Larry Knight.”

Shirley pressed her hand to her heart. “The Larry Knight?”

“Yes. He’s from San Diego, but the two of us worked together on a charity function some time ago in Atlanta. We’ve kept in touch through the years.” Actually, Georgia, his ex, had done a lot of the work, heading up the volunteer committee. But she’d never been comfortable in the limelight, unlike Will, who enjoyed being the center of attention. So she’d asked him to handle the public functions.

“You mean to say Larry Knight—one of the bestknown artists in the country—is the one who looked at Shaw’s work?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, my goodness…”

“I’m thinking I might ask another favor of Larry,” he said. Picking up his menu, he read through it, giving Shirley a chance to consider his words.

“What kind of favor?” Her voice was guarded.

Will glanced over the top of his menu. “As you know, Larry has a…certain amount of influence with art schools around the country.”

“Yes…I imagine he would,” she said breathlessly.

Will was determined not to offer; he wanted Shirley to ask, wanted her to understand that she was in his debt. He’d had plenty of experience at cajoling and persuading women. Interesting how those skills, for lack of a better word, kicked in so automatically.

“You…said he was impressed with Shaw’s work?” she began.

“Larry had quite a bit to say about Shaw.