Die in Plain Sight Read Online Free PDF Page B

over the cash register, protected from the sun by special glass.
    Ian glanced up at the posters. Though they depicted black-and-white movies, the cinema moguls had known that color sells. Most of the posters had been printed with at least some bright elements. For every man in dark hat and jacket—no tie—cigarette dangling at a just-so angle from his world-weary lips, there was a woman with smooth yellow hair, hourglass body, creamy skin, and wearing a cocktail dress that was as red and close-fitting as lipstick. Some kind of handgun—usually wrong for the period—smoked in the foreground. Everything but the babe’s dress and hair was in shades of darkness that owed more to philosophy than to the reality of shooting in black-and-white film.
    “I prefer my black-and-white with more color,” he said dryly.
    Lacey laughed. “So do I, but I’m in business and noir sells.” She pointed toward the side of the store. “My Western and musical posters are in the bin just beyond the Deco-style vases. I’ll help you, but have to wash my hands first. I’ve been grubbing around in the storeroom.”
    “Pretty colorful storeroom.”
    She looked at her hands and then at her clothes. “Oops. I forgot. I was painting before I went through some canvases to choose three for a charity event and then I came back and—oh brother, talk about too much information. Go look in the bin. I’ll be right back.”
    Instead of telling her that she could keep talking just for the pleasure of hearing the laughter in her voice, Ian walked over to the bin and began flipping through the cardboard-backed, glassine-shielded posters. Musicals and more musicals. Though he didn’t collect them, he smiled at the colorful exuberance of the singers and dancers coming and going beneath his fingertips. Like Westerns, musicals celebrated a less world-weary America. He was all for that. Christ knew that the world had enough brutality without making movies about it.
    The scent of soap and something feminine drifted to him even as he heard footsteps behind him. She wasn’t nearly as wary of him now. She came up almost close enough to kiss. He’d always enjoyed women like her, unself-conscious and intelligent. The fact that there was definitely a female body wrapped around the package sure didn’t hurt.
    He would have to browse this store again. Soon. Since the charity art show wouldn’t happen until the end of the week, he should have enough time to explore the shop, and maybe even the woman. There hadn’t been any rings under all the paint and grime on her hands. But then, maybe she didn’t wear jewelry while painting or working in storage sheds.
    “Any luck?” she asked, watching his mouth, wondering idly if his kiss was half as warm as his smile.
    “Not yet. Nice collection, though.”
    “Thanks. A lot of them were my grandfather’s.”
    “Was he in the movies?”
    “Nope. Unless set painting counts.”
    “Keeps bread and beans on the table,” Ian said. “That always counts.”
    Lacey’s smile slipped. She remembered more than one loud argument between her father and grandfather on the subject of how the elder Quinn earned his living.
    “Now here’s a prime one,” Ian said.
    Lacey stepped around him and looked. The poster was indeed prime. “John Wayne in Hondo .” She started to say that her customer bore more than a passing resemblance to the younger Wayne. At the last second she changed her mind. He might take it as a come-on.
    He might be right. It had been a long time since she’d seen anything as deep down interesting as this man’s smile, obvious pleasure in the posters, and offhand intelligence.
    “That was one of my grandfather’s favorites,” Lacey said.
    Ian glanced at the discreet sticker on the back of the cardboard and sighed. “You know what you have, don’t you?”
    “You bet.”
    “Any give on the price?”
    “Not much.”
    “How much is not much?” he asked.
    “You live in California?”
    He