2 Pane of Death Read Free

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    A brief flash of pain crossed over Maddy’s face. “Em,” she said carefully, “this is a really important commission, and I want to be sure I get it right. I could use an outside eye, just now and then. And he’s already said he wants glass lighting fixtures to coordinate with his pieces, and I told him I knew just the person to do it.”
    Ah. The bait. Making pretty lamp shades for the big cheese, while Maddy got all the glory. There must be more to it than that. “I assume he’ll pay for this?”
    “Of course he will.” She mentioned a figure; I swallowed hard. For that amount of money, I might even make glass Mickey Mouses. Mice. Whatever.
    But I’d still be stuck working with Miss Maddy, and it would probably eat up a lot of my time—time that might be better spent working on my own pieces. On the other hand, if the publicity was good . . . “There will be some press coverage, I assume?”
    Did she look relieved? “Of course. I’m sorry, I thought you would assume that. Your name would definitely be associated with this project, and it will be highly visible, I assure you—in the right circles.”
    It was tempting, particularly those dollar signs, but I still wasn’t convinced. “Maddy, before I sign on for anything, I want to talk to the guy, get his take on what he wants, scope out how much work this would take. I don’t know if I want to get involved if it’s going to eat up huge chunks of my time.” Or if he wanted me to turn out dreck.
    She stared into space, as if thinking. It must have been painful, based on her expression. Finally she answered. “I think that could be arranged. Are you free tomorrow?”
    Now it was my turn to be surprised. “He’s in town now?” I hadn’t seen any mention in the press, but then, I didn’t have a lot of time to read the papers, much less watch the local news.
    Maddy nodded solemnly. “Don’t say anything—he’s trying to keep a low profile. He comes and goes, since the house isn’t quite livable yet, but he wants it finished within a few months. And he’s very hands-on. He wants to know what’s going into the house, down to the smallest detail.”
    That could spell trouble, I reflected. If—and it was still a big if—I agreed to do this, I would insist on artistic control of my own products. No way was I going to turn out crap just to make Peter Ferguson happy, especially if it was going to get any publicity. But I decided to reserve judgment until I had met and talked to the man.
    Whoa, Em. How cool is this? A one-on-one with a national figure, one who had more money than God, or at least the Vatican. Something to talk about, whether or not I took the job. Sure, I’d be happy to meet the guy, at least this once.
    “I think I can clear my schedule for tomorrow, Maddy. What time?”
    “Shall we say morning? Ideally you’ll have to see the place at different times of day, so you can see how the light falls, but I want you to have an idea of the space. And talk to Peter, of course. Let me tell you, he has a good eye. Oh, and I should drive. I don’t know if you could get in.”
    I was afraid she would ask me to wear a blindfold next. All this cloak-and-dagger stuff seemed kind of silly to me—we’ve had celebrities and millionaires in Tucson for quite awhile, and they always kept a low profile.
    “One condition, Maddy: I get to tell my brother Cam.” When she started to protest, I went on. “He’s completely trustworthy. And if he learns that I’ve met with Peter Ferguson without telling him, there’ll be hell to pay, and I’ve got to live with him the rest of my life. Deal?”
    “Deal,” Maddy said reluctantly. “But no one else—not your shop people or your customers. Agreed?”
    “Agreed.” I figured there was no point in telling her about Matt, who just happened to be Tucson’s chief of police, if she didn’t already know. And since I wasn’t even sure I’d be going through with this, I didn’t need to fill him