Chapter 31
Gavin Beckwith’s art gallery was located near Jackson Square off Madison Street. They walked up to the two-story redbrick townhouse. Beckwith’s gallery was on one side, and an upscale clothing boutique claimed the other. There were two mannequins in the boutique window, wearing colorful caftans and beaded jewelry. Beckwith’s window displayed several watercolor paintings.
Stacy laughed, “Not exactly groundbreaking artwork, but very quaint.”
The doorbell chimed as Red opened the gallery door for Stacy and Rachel. “Ladies first.”
A model-thin woman who looked to be in her late twenties greeted them at the door. She tossed her long blond hair over her shoulder. “Welcome to Orleans Gallery. Can I help you?” she asked politely.
“We’re here to see Gavin Beckwith,” Red said.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Mr. Beckwith is out of the country,” she answered. “Can I help you with something? I’m his wife, Courtney.”
“I’m afraid this is something that I can speak only with Mr. Beckwith about.” Red dug out one of his business cards. “Can you please have him call me when you speak with him next?”
Courtney took the card, her smile faded, and a look of concern crossed her face. “What’s this about? Is my husband in trouble?” She looked back and forth between Red and Rachel. Stacy had made herself scarce, roaming around the gallery, looking at the artwork adorning the walls.
“Oh, no, ma’am. Sorry to worry you. I’d just like to speak with him about a personal matter,” Red said in a soothing tone.
“Okay.” Courtney didn’t look convinced. She set the card on the counter and then opened the front door, her gracious manner turning icy. “I expect him to call me tonight. I’ll pass along your number.”
Red waited until they were a few feet away from the gallery before speaking. “Surely Gavin wouldn’t be so bold as to carry on an affair right under his wife’s nose? The café is just a few blocks away from here.”
Rachel shrugged. “You never know what someone is willing to risk.”
Stacy plucked a colorful brochure from her back pocket. “At least we now have a picture to show Matt.”
The brochure had Gavin’s picture and bio printed on the back.
“He’s a nice-looking guy,” Rachel said, looking at the picture. “Dark hair, brooding mysterious eyes, dimples in the right place. I can see certain ladies falling for a guy like this.”
Stacy took the brochure back. “Not me. He has the look of someone that would smile to your face but stab you right in the back. I know that type very well.”
Rachel laughed, thinking that Stacy was referring to one of her former coworkers at the Miami Sun who had tried to steal her thunder on many occasions. “And you haven’t even met the guy.”
“All that is important is what Matt thinks of the photo. Was Melinda right about the affair? Is this our guy or not?” Red asked.