the strong smell of linseed oil and paint filled the tiny front room , cluttered with paintings , frames , brushes , and paints . mr. roberts was a spry old man with sloping shoulders , white hair , and kindly blue eyes . he was a well-known artist who painted portraits of notable people in new england . although he was getting on in years , he still had a steady hand with his brush

bronte shot her a look . '' very funny . '' '' cloverfield ? '' suggested cooper . '' i have it on dvd . i could bring it over . '' '' not exactly a chick flick , cooper , '' gretchen said , tossing a hand towel over her shoulder . '' and you 're not exactly a chick

'' and the two of you decided to tackle this by yourselves why exactly ? '' she asked , voice syrupy sweet , eyes blazing . i took a sip of ice water , stalling for time , but david already had an answer . '' because i do n't trust you , '' he said . '' her , '' david added , gesturing to me with a teaspoon , '' i trust

propelling himself to his feet , simon padded out into the living room , pressing the talk button just before the call went to voice mail again . '' luke ? '' '' sorry to wake you up , simon . '' luke was , as always , unfailingly polite . '' i was awake anyway , '' simon lied . '' i need you to meet me in washington square park in half an hour , '' said
luke