“He did a great job. Anyway.” She gestured over her shoulder. “Lily is in her office. She’s expecting you.”
“Thanks, Cheyenne.” Cole headed in that direction.
Falling into step with him, Will asked, “So is your mom super into cubism or something?”
“You could say that.” Cole glanced at Will. Once again, there was that look of wanting Cole to continue explaining something. And once again, Cole didn’t oblige.
At the door to Lilith’s office, Cole knocked, then pushed open the door.
The office was almost hilariously different from the gallery. Instead of the ultracontemporary metal-and-glass furniture and fixtures in the bright gallery, the office was warm, cluttered, and a little dusty in places. Canvases of all sizes were wrapped in brown paper and leaned against beige walls. The furniture—what he could see, anyway—was nearly all antique wood and overstuffed upholstery. Papers were stacked—more like piled—on every surface.
And sitting behind the desk was Lilith. She beamed when she saw them, and as she rose, she took off her glasses, letting them dangle on their beaded chain and rest on her dark gray blouse. Her hair was a lighter gray, cut into a neat bob that ended just below her sharp jaw.
“Well, if this isn’t a pair I’d ever expected to see come through my door together,” she mused.
Cole scowled at Will. Will smirked at him.
Lilith ignored that and brought them each down to her height—she was barely five feet tall—for fierce hugs. After she let them go, she said, “So. How in the world did the two of you end up…” She gestured at both of them.
“Not by choice,” Cole said. Before Will could add his snarky two cents, Cole barreled on. “Some things went south last night, and apparently I picked up a stray.”
“Fuck you,” Will muttered.
Lilith just laughed. “I’m sure there’s a story there, but I’m also sure you’re both here about the Iberian Puffin.”
Cole and Will nodded.
She frowned, shaking her head. “I knew Alders was taking a chance, putting that thing on display. I believe art should be out where it can be seen and appreciated, but that piece is like flypaper for… Well, for people like the two of you.” She saidit matter-of-factly, not with the sneer or judgment most people directed at criminals. To Lilith, art thieves were a fact of life. Much like mosquitoes and leeches, they were part of the food chain; while they were annoying and parasitic, their absence would damage or even destroy entire eco-systems.
“The Mona Lisa is only as famous and valuable as it is because it was stolen,”she’d explained to him a long time ago.“Without that mystique and intrigue, it’s just another da Vinci.”
In the present, she motioned for them to sit in the wooden chairs in front of her cluttered desk. Cole, being an adult who hadn’t been raised by wolves, sat like a normal human being. Will kind of threw himself into the chair, draping limbs every which direction like a cursed doll that had been kicked down a flight of stairs.
Lilith sat primly in her leather desk chair and folded her hands on top of a spiralbound black book. “I understand that last night was… eventful.”
“Very,” Cole said.
“Good thing all the paintings were behind glass,” Will muttered. “When the sprinklers went off…”
Lilith closed her eyes and touched her chest, as if the very thought of the sprinklers destroying all that art made her heart hurt. “Good thing,” she agreed. Opening her eyes again, she said, “And the Puffin—it was broken.”
“Shattered,” Will clarified. “I only saw the pieces for a second or two, but it was like a cheap ceramic figurine. Like I think it was hollow and everything.”
Cole ground his molars, and for once today it had nothing to do with Will. If he’d stolen that bird only to discover it was a craft store knockoff…
“There are many counterfeits of the Iberian Puffin.” Lilith reached behind a stack of papers, then came back with?—
Cole blinked. It was the same bird. The same bright pink flamingo diamond. The same slick lacquered finish. It was close to the exact same size, too, though he couldn’t be sure without seeing them side by side.
She set it on top of the papers in front of her. “This is a twenty-dollar knockoff, but it’s probably a better fake than the one Alders displayed. At least it isn’t hollow.”
Gesturing at the bird, Cole asked, “May I?” She nodded, and he picked it up. Yeah, this was definitely not a hollow ceramic fake. In fact, it looked more real than the one he’d been attempting to steal last night. It weighed a ton, too, and for a fake stone, that diamond worked the light like a real one. “What’s the stone? Is this moissanite or something? Because it looks—shit, it looks real.”
“Moissanite,” she confirmed. “It has fewer facets than the original, but it’s otherwise an excellent copy.”
“Can I see it?” Will asked.
Cole handed it over. “No joke—it’sheavy.”
