The Chase: A Novel Read Free Page A

no accent. His nose was large and hooked, and his hair was iron gray, but he remained a handsome man. No one would guess that he was in his late seventies; he looked sixty, if a day. It never ceased to amaze Claire how many women found him attractive. His current girlfriend was an attractive, wealthy widow in her late fifties, but tonight he was alone.
    Claire hoped that her worries were not reflected in her eyes. She smiled brightly. “You look great, too, Dad. Where is Elaine?”
    “She’s in Paris. Shopping, I believe. I was invited to join her, but I did not want to miss David’s birthday party.” He smiled at her.
    Claire thought he was being sardonic. She was almost certain he would not care if he had missed David’s birthday. But it was always hard to tell exactly what her father was thinking, or what he meant. Jean-Léon had raised Claire alone; Claire’s mother had died, a victim of breast cancer, when Claire was ten. He had been preoccupied with teaching and later, after retirement, with his gallery. And even when he was not teaching at Berkeley College, he was either traveling around the world in pursuit of another masterpiece or new talent, or lecturing at foreign institutions. Claire had been raised by a succession of nannies. She and her father could have been close after her mother’s death, but Claire had never sat on his lap as a child or been told stories at bedtime. “Well, I’m glad you could be here, Dad,” she said, still distracted. What kind of trouble could David be in? Surely it wasn’t serious.
    She prayed it wasn’t something illegal.
    Jean-Léon was glancing around, taking in every guest and decoration. “You have done a very nice job, Claire. As always.”
    “Thanks, Dad,” Claire said softly.
    An elderly couple came up to Claire, smiling widely. The woman, Elizabeth Duke, was tall and thin and quite regal in appearance, clad in a red Armani jersey dress, while her husband, who was in his early eighties and about her height, was somewhat stooped. William Duke embraced Claire first, followed by his wife. “Claire, the house looks amazing,” Elizabeth cried, smiling. “And that dress suits you to a
T
, dear.” She wore a large Cartier necklace set with diamonds. Somehow she carried the ostentatious piece well.
    The Dukes were an English couple, with homes in Montecito, Sun Valley, New York, and East Hampton, as well as San Francisco. Claire had known them her entire life, or so it seemed. They were avid art collectors and close friends of her father’s. Elizabeth had adored Claire’s mother.
    “Where is that handsome husband of yours?” William Duke asked jovially. He was retired, but the company he and Elizabeth had built from scratch in the fifties and sixties was a private one, with financial holdings and properties all over the world. He was fond of David and at one time had hoped to have him join his firm. The deal had never worked out. Claire had never known why.
    “He’ll be down in a minute,” Claire said, hiding her concern. Where was he? What was taking so long? She already had a headache. She fervently hoped that David’s mood would have changed by the time he came downstairs—and that he would not drink too much.
I’m in trouble, Claire.
“He’s running a bit late.” She flashed what felt like a brittle smile.
    Elizabeth Duke stared at her. “Is anything wrong, Claire?”
    Claire tensed, aware of her father and William regarding her. “It’s been a long day,” she said, giving what was quickly becoming the party line, but she took Elizabeth’s hand and they slipped away.
    “I do know that,” Elizabeth said kindly. “But don’t worry, you know how to plan an event, Claire, as everyone who is anyone knows. I can already see that this evening will be a huge success.” She smiled and leaned close to whisper, “William and I thought long and hard about what to give David for his birthday. We decided that the two of you have been working far too