GABRIELLE HAD PROPOSED THEY arrive early at the Wave so her friend could have a drink or two to relax. Sharon was a basket case, and Gabrielle didn’t blame her. She’d told Sharon that they had found and questioned Tony DeCarlo earlier this afternoon. Like Gabrielle, Sharon was disappointed they hadn’t found out anything and was skeptical about Tony’s supposed change for the better. Because if he was telling the truth, somebody else was blackmailing Sharon. And that was an even more frightening concept.

While they waited for Derek to arrive, Gabrielle intended to question the club’s owner, George Saybrook. Known as Curious George-as a bartender, he’d asked questions instead of dispensing advice-George knew everything about everyone in Perkins and Stewart. Gabrielle had never met George, but his reputation preceded him.

According to Sharon, that hadn’t changed. Neither had the fact that people from both towns gave Curious George’s bar their business. Then a few years ago, old George had a heart attack and his son, Seth, had taken over. Based on what Sharon had told her this afternoon, Seth had gone to college, majored in marketing, returned home and immediately renovated the old bar into a nightclub that attracted a younger, hip crowd. But old George still worked the bar, and before Derek showed up, Gabrielle wanted to talk to George about the past. Curses, in particular.

With Sharon by her side, Gabrielle sidled up to the bar and luckily they snagged two seats.

George, whom Gabrielle had never met, immediately noticed two new patrons and walked over. Despite his cartoon nickname, Curious George was a fine-looking man. Tall and distinguished-looking, at seventy-five George had a full head of white hair and a bright smile. Whether or not the teeth were his own, that was his secret to keep.

“Sharon, how are you and that politician fiancé of yours?” he asked.

“We’re doing great, George. Are you still spreading the word to vote for Richard?” Sharon asked.

He nodded. “You betcha. Can’t wait to oust the old biddy,” he said, laughing. “So who’s your friend?” He eyed Gabrielle with his legendary curious stare.

“Gabrielle Donovan, meet George Saybrook, George, my closest friend, Gabrielle,” Sharon said.

Gabrielle shook his weathered hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine. So what can I get you ladies?”

“A cosmopolitan, please,” Sharon said.

“A sour-apple martini for me,” Gabrielle said.

He picked up two glasses. “That’s what I like about serving women. You challenge my mixing skills more than a beer-drinking guy does.”

Gabrielle laughed.

Instead of working on their drinks, George lingered to talk. “I recognize your name,” he said to Gabrielle. “You’re the author. I heard you gave quite a speech at the library the other night,” he added. “It’s the talk of the town.”

“Which town? Perkins or Stewart?” Gabrielle asked.

“Both. My bar doesn’t discriminate.” He laughed and turned to mix their drinks.

“I think he means my nightclub,” George’s son, Seth, said, joining his father by the soda fountain. “Hi, ladies.” He nodded at them both.

While Sharon repeated the introductions, Gabrielle compared father and son. They shared height and breadth in their shoulders, but Seth’s hair was an inky-black, giving Gabrielle an idea of how handsome George must have been in his youth.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Seth said to Gabrielle. “Welcome to my establishment.”

“Make sure you don’t listen to anything my boy says. He forgets who owns this joint, the bar and the land beneath,” George spoke proudly.

But since he looked at his son with pride in his eyes, Gabrielle knew there was nothing but good humor behind the words.

“And he forgets it’s the club paying the bills and not the old bar,” Seth joked as he put his arm around his father’s shoulders. “Pop, why don’t you take the night off? Go out and enjoy yourself for once.”

Gabrielle had just turned eighteen when she’d left for college. She’d never come to the bar, but everyone knew that George’s wife had passed away when Seth was just a little boy. George hadn’t remarried and he’d raised his son by himself, moving from their house to a large apartment above the bar where he could keep an eye on his child and his business at the same time.

“This is my enjoyment.” He placed the glasses in front of the women. “One cosmopolitan for Sharon and a sour-apple martini for the author.”

“Thank you,” Gabrielle murmured. She’d have bet George was too preoccupied talking to remember what they’d ordered, not to mention who’d ordered what. She’d have lost.

“I’m not going anywhere tonight,” George said to Seth. “Where else can I spend time with beautiful young women like these two? Even if one of them is awfully quiet.” George settled his gaze on Sharon.

Lost in thought, Sharon didn’t reply. She probably hadn’t even heard the conversation going on around her. Not that Gabrielle blamed her for being distracted.

“She has a lot on her mind, don’t you, Sharon?” Gabrielle nudged her friend.

Sharon jumped, obviously startled. “Oh, right. My wedding. I have this ongoing list in my head and I just can’t seem to concentrate on anything these days.” She gave a smile, one Gabrielle recognized as forced. “At least I have until after the election.”

“Here. Take your drink. I’m sure it’ll help you relax,” Gabrielle said.

Sharon accepted the glass and shot her friend a grateful nod. “Thank you. I’m going to call Richard,” she said, pivoting away from Gabrielle as she pulled out her cell phone.

“No problem.” Gabrielle squeezed her friend’s shoulder before turning back to George and Seth. “Would you mind if I ask you some questions about things going on around town, George?”

Something at the other end of the bar caught Seth’s interest and his gaze wandered. “Whatever it is, Dad will be happy to indulge your interest,” he said to Gabrielle, sounding distracted. “I hope you won’t be insulted if I go make sure the other customers are happy. I’m sure I’ve heard whatever story he ends up telling you at least a hundred times.” He winked at Gabrielle. “He’s all yours.”

“That I am, beautiful. What can I do for you?” George asked.

She lifted her glass for a sip of her martini. The sour taste filled her mouth. “I don’t know if you heard the subject of my next book-”

“Of course I did. The Corwin Curse!” George said, a little too loudly.

Gabrielle winced, glad Derek wasn’t there to hear. She drew a deep breath. “Since you know everyone, I thought I’d ask you about the families involved.”

George nodded. “You’ve come to the right place.”

“I was thinking about starting with the recent past.” The rest she could look up at the library or even on the Internet if any records of the curse had been kept. “Tell me what you know of the current Mary Perkins.”

Gabrielle already had personal knowledge of the Corwins, and what she didn’t know, she hoped Derek would share. Otherwise, she’d have to question his father and his uncles. And though she’d always heard Thomas was a reasonable man, everyone knew Edward was an unstable recluse living on the outskirts of town. And since Hank had been polishing a gun, at least according to Holly, Gabrielle didn’t think he’d be quick to answer her questions.

“So, you want to know about Mayor Mary Perkins…” George leaned closer to Gabrielle. “That woman’s one nasty piece of work. Not that she’d give you that impression if you met her. No, ma’am. In public, she’s so sweet, butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but in private?” He whistled through his teeth.

“What’s going on?” Sharon whipped her head around to see where the noise had come from.

Gabrielle laughed. “Go back to spacing out. I’ll be finished in a few minutes.”

Sharon glanced at the door. “How will I even recognize the guy if he walks in?” she asked.

Gabrielle patted her hand. They’d discussed this all afternoon and neither woman had come up with any solid answer. They’d just have to see how the evening went.

Gabrielle turned back to George. “Actually, I met Mary the other night. She attended the lecture at the library.”

“And? What was your impression?”

“She was extremely polite. She even brought a book for me to sign. She didn’t seem upset by the fact that I was discussing something so personal to her family.”

“That’s Mary, all right. Saying one thing, plotting another,” George said. “Watch your back.”

“Dad, I’m not sure you should be telling tales.” Seth had come back to check on them.

“They’re only tales if they aren’t true. I’m giving her facts and you know it.” George waved a hand, dismissing his son’s concerns before turning back to Gabrielle.

“If Seth doesn’t want you talking about her-”

“What I want and what Dad does have never been the same thing,” Seth said.

George laughed. “Go back to mixing drinks,” he said to his son. “Now, where were we? Oh, yes. There’s one word to describe Mary’s attitude,” he said in a low voice. “Entitlement.” He shook his head. “Never seen anything like it.”

Gabrielle took a sip of her drink and listened. George was a gold mine of information.

“Here’s an example of what I’m talking about. Every year Mary comes into my bar and requests the use of the back room for her weekly staff meeting. She says she likes to keep morale high among her workers by feeding them. That’s a crock, though.” He shook his head. “More like she wants to keep an eye on ’em after hours and eavesdrop while they talk. Anyway, she always comes in like she owns the place. Then, sweet as sugar, she says that since I want to show town loyalty, she’s sure I won’t mind giving her use of the room. Giving.” He slammed his hand against the wooden bar. “Like I wasn’t earning a living for myself and my son.”