Comfortable, my ass, I nearly snorted. And as forintelligence, Gordon’s information had been way off. By design, I feared.
The room tingled with magic, and I sensed Gordon reaching into Roux’s mind. Mine, too, but I was ready this time, serving up images of snowy Swiss landscapes and my father’s rolled-up, unframed painting on Grepper’s desk.
Gordon started pacing. Briefly, he came to a halt, opened his mouth — then shut it and went back to pacing.
It would have been comical if the situation weren’t so damn twisted. He couldn’t come out and ask about the Monet because he’d lied about that from the start. He’d lied to Roux, and he’d lied to me.
My gut roiled. Mina had been right about Gordon all along. But his crimes might run even deeper than she suspected, if Grepper were to be believed.
I thought of my father. My mother. All the years they’d missed out on sharing together, and all that he’d missed with Mina and me.
My cheeks colored as I faced Gordon, and I longed to confront him directly. But what would that accomplish when he would vehemently deny any involvement?
No. My best course of action was to learn what I could by operating as deviously as Gordon did.
“I don’t know why, but the painting was removed from the frame when we found it,” I said, ashamed at how easily the lies rolled off my tongue. “Whether Celeste or Grepper did that, we couldn’t tell.”
That was the beauty of the situation. Gordon couldn’t accuse us of hiding the Monet from him, because our story was perfectly plausible.
“If my informants are to be believed, Celeste is dead,” Gordon growled.
I did my best to look shocked.
“Oh my gosh. That’s terrible.” I said, skirting around a more direct,Good riddance. “What happened?”
Gordon looked out the window. “My contact didn’t elaborate. But it seems Celeste chose to associate with the wrong people.”
I swallowed hard. Claudette had chosen to associate with the wrong people too. Had my father also made that mistake in his friendship with Gordon?
We all fell silent, lost in our own thoughts.
“Tell me again,” Gordon demanded moments later. “This was exactly how you found it?”
I nodded quickly. “Rolled up, like this.”
“No frame?”
“No frame,” Roux echoed in his usual, flat tone. Boy, did that come in handy for lying.
I made a mental note, then erased it. I’d already shaved enough around the edges of my morals. I couldn’t afford to trim any more.
I tilted my head, imitating the old, gullible me. “I didn’t realize you were so interested in the frame. Was there something important about it?”
“Yes! I mean, no.” His eyes darkened, and he glared at Roux.
I touched Gordon’s arm, keeping his focus on me. Safer for everyone that way.
“Gordon,” I said as gently as I could. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
My heart hammered, because this was it. His last chance to convince me he was the good-hearted man I’d always taken him for.
Silence stretched…and stretched, like a balloon filled past its limits. A vein in his forehead pulsed, and beads of sweat glistened on his brow.
“Of course not,” he said gruffly.
Boom!The imaginary balloon burst, taking my loyalty to Gordon with it.
“It’s just…” He cast around for a moment before going on. “I suppose I grew fond of it as it was. It looks somehow…different this way.”
