"And you know where I am," Garvin said, giving up. She had come to think of herself as having no one, needing no one, and to ask otherwise was to open herself up to another loss. Best, in her mind, just to take life one day at a time.
Unfortunately, Garvin thought, he understood all too well that terrible need to stay alone.
"Yes." A little softness crept back into her face. "I know where you are."
He adjusted the folds of her shawl and scarf, all mixed up but somehow working together, making her attractive and sexy and, if not one of the crowd, holding her own. He tucked one finger under her chin. "If it wouldn't complicate an already complicated night, I'd kiss you right about now, and to hell with who might see us."
She laughed. "And I'd probably let you."
"Probably?"
She winked at him, her resilience there, bloodied but unbroken. "You're cocky enough as it is, Garvin MacCrae."
Ethan Conninger gave Annie a ride home. She had found him outside smoking a cigarette and at first refused his offer, but he'd been persuasive, asking her where she lived, saying Russian Hill wasn't that far. If he wanted to, he could get back in time for dinner. Laughing, she'd acquiesced. His easy, irreverent manner was difficult to resist and a welcome counter to the intensity of the evening. He drove an expensive sports car and handled the steep streets with the dexterity of a true native.
"Do you live in the city?" she asked.
He nodded. "I have a condo in the marina. I've thought about moving out of the city, but I don't know. The timing has to be right. Maybe when I have a family."
Annie wondered if he had anyone in mind. He seemed to have attended the dinner alone, which could mean anything from not seeing anyone in particular to not wanting to take her to such an event. "There are so many nice places to live in the Bay Area," Annie said. "But I do like San Francisco."
"Do you think Sarah will stay?"
"I don't know. I don't really know her that well."
"Did you have any idea who she was when you bought the painting for her?"
"None."
Ethan grinned over at her. "Must have been a hell of a surprise when you found out. I don't envy you, Annie. Garvin—well, he figured out the connection between you and Sarah before any of us, didn't he?"
"Apparently. But that's to be expected, I guess. His wife—"
"Yes," Ethan said, turning up her street. "He wants Haley's killer brought to justice."
"Did you know her well?" Annie asked quietly.
"Haley? I don't know. I've always thought I did." He seemed to make a deliberate effort to shake off his sudden seriousness. Annie suspected he wasn't a man who liked to dwell on anything more serious than the shifts in the stock market, which didn't mean he was superficial, just determined to enjoy life. "But hell, I always thought I knew Sarah too. She was educated, sweet-tempered, didn't give anyone any trouble. Then she took up gambling, had an affair with a low-life merchant marine. Now look at her."
Annie was tempted to tell him about Sarah's art, but resisted. That was for Sarah Linwood to reveal. "She's a fascinating woman, I can say that."
He gave her a sympathetic look. "You're caught between a rock and a hard place, aren't you? Sarah sent you off to buy a painting on her behalf without all the facts. You go head-to-head with Garvin and end up paying way too much. He gets suspicious." He grinned. "Am I right so far?"
"Mr. Conninger—"
"Ethan. Please. So Garvin gets suspicious because he thinks you're in touch with Sarah, and he hopes Sarah will lead him to Vic Denardo."
"But she didn't," Annie said, not knowing if she should.
"No, but you did."
She swallowed hard, saying nothing. Ethan Conninger was not to be underestimated. He had worked for the Linwoods for a long time, and he was a perceptive man. He slid up to the curb in front of a fire hydrant near her building. His manner was still easy, even reassuring. There was none of Garvin's intensity. "That's what tonight's all about, right? Vic Denardo figured you could lead him to Sarah too. Which means he probably has a bone to pick with her. I wonder what it is."
"Ethan—"
He peered at her in the darkness, the engine of his car idling softly. "I'm making you nervous. Sorry. I'm just talking out loud. Jesus, I hate thinking about all this stuff myself. I never thought I'd get this close to murder. Well, enough already. Would you like me to walk you to your apartment?"
She shook her head. "This is fine. Thank you for the ride."
"No problem. You're an interesting woman, Annie Payne. I can see why Garvin's attracted to you."
"He's not—"
"Oh, he is." Ethan smiled, amused. "Good night."
She thanked him again and slipped from his car, feeling hot, edgy, even embarrassed. Was what was going on between her and Garvin MacCrae obvious to everyone? Or was Ethan Conninger just more perceptive than most? He and Garvin were friends, she remembered. Maybe that gave him more insight.