“I’m starting my own business, so I pay attention to how things run.”

“Are you opening your own salon?”

“Yes.” She said it firmly, despite the way her stomach muscles clutched. “I was looking at space before I got Malory’s message to come out here.”

And why didn’t Malory come back in? She was running out of steam now that her temper had leveled off. She didn’t know what to talk about with a man who lived in a house like this, one who helped run an enormous national conglomerate. If “conglomerate” was the word for it.

“In the Valley?”

“What? Oh, yes, I’m looking for a place in town. I’m not interested in a mall space. I think it’s important to maintain a good downtown, and I want to be close to home so I can be more available to my son.”

“You have a son?” His gaze zeroed in on her left hand, and he nearly sighed with relief at the lack of a wedding ring.

All Zoe saw was the quick look. She straightened her shoulders, stiffened them. “Yes. Simon’s nine.”

“Sorry it took me so long,” Malory apologized as she came back in. “Flynn’s got Moe tied to a tree in the side yard. He’s hosing him down, for all the good that’s going to do. He’ll just be a wet incredibly smelly dog instead of only an incredibly smelly one. He said to ask if you had any shampoo or soap you could spare.”

“I can come up with something. Go ahead and take your pictures.”

Malory aimed the camera, waited until Brad’s footsteps receded. “Talk about gods,” she murmured to Zoe.

“What?”

“Bradley Charles Vane IV. His kind of looks just smack a woman right in the hormones.”

“Looks are genetic.” Zoe very nearly sniffed. “Personality and manners are developed.”

“It was one fine day in the gene pool when he was made.” She lowered the camera. “I gave you the impression he was giving me a hard time. Really, he wasn’t.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But he’s an arrogant snob.”

“Wow.” Malory blinked at the vehemence in Zoe’s voice. “I didn’t get that. I can’t imagine Flynn being friends with anyone who fits the snob category. Arrogant is debatable.”

Zoe jerked a shoulder. “I’ve run into his type before. They’re more interested in looking good than in being human. Anyway, he’s not important. The painting is.”

“I think it is. And what you said about them being a set, part of a set. I think that’s true, and there’s at least one more. I have to find it. Something in them, or about them, is going to point me toward the key. I’d better hit the books.”

“Want some help?”

“All I can get.”

“I’ll head back now. There are a couple of things I need to do, then I’ll swing by your place.”

ABOUT the time Brad unearthed a bottle of shampoo he heard a car start. He went to the window, cursed under his breath as he watched Zoe and Malory head down his lane.