19
FIONA
Revisitingthe Windy City Gallery made me feel like a naughty child. I hadn’t broken any laws, and nobody had told me not to be here, but I still felt squirmy as Zeke and I asked the desk clerk to see if Patience was available. Perhaps it was because my old friend had made it clear she wasn’t comfortable with my presence the other day, or maybe it was just the fact that being at the scene of the crime wasn’t a good look. Whatever the case, my nerves were frayed.
Zeke put his hand on the small of my back and moved closer. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
I’d suggested telling Patience that we had a lead because it might give her peace of mind. She may not have been particularly welcoming toward me, but she didn’t deserve to get fired like I had been from my job at the Black Swan Gallery. Especially not when we were so close to tracking down the Monet. Zeke had agreed with my plan, although he’d warned me that if Patience said anything about talking to the police, all bets were off. He wasprobably only going along with it because it was a good distraction and I’d been going stir-crazy wanting to jump into action, but there were hours left until we’d be able to do that.
This time, Patience’s expression when she entered the room was even warier than before. Her gaze quickly took in how close Zeke stood to me and it shuttered even further. I winced, recalling the fact that she’d slipped him her card. He hadn’t called, and his current position hinted at how intimate we’d become. Probably not the wisest move. If Patience felt slighted, she was less likely to be open to hearing what we had to say. Oh well, we were doing her a favor by giving her a heads-up. If she didn’t want to listen, that was her choice.
“What are you doing here?” she asked coolly.
I exchanged a glance with Zeke, who arched a brow as if asking whether I really wanted to go through with this. I swallowed my hurt and tried not to take it personally. No doubt she was having a difficult time, and wasn’t at her best. If I thought about how I’d felt when I realized that Bergen had been able to steal from my boss because of me, I could sympathize. The situation wasn’t quite the same, but it was close enough. Someone had stolen from the gallery and her neck was on the line because of it.
“Can we speak in private?” I asked.
She headed toward the wall furthest from the ticket desk, where no one else should be able to overhear. “Is this okay? The gallery owner is here, and I’d rather him not see you in my office when the police have already told us they’re looking into you in connection with the theft.”
I winced. “This is fine.” I drew in a breath, buoyed by Zeke’s strong presence beside me. “We think we might know where the painting is. I just wanted to let you know. Hopefully this whole situation will be resolved soon.”
Interest flared in her eyes. “You do? Where is it? Who has it?”
Zeke pressed softly against my back, silently reminding me of my promise not to share any details.
“I can’t say yet,” I replied apologetically. “We need to confirm the details first, and as soon as we do, we’ll pass the information on to the police.”
She stiffened. “They don’t know?”
“No,” Zeke answered for me. “There’s no point wasting their time if it doesn’t pan out.”
She nodded as if this explanation made sense. I searched her face. I’d expected that she’d be relieved by our news, or maybe even grateful. Instead, her expression hadn’t changed. Perhaps she was skeptical. It made sense that she might not believe us since she still seemed suspicious of me. We’d just have to make her happy to be proven wrong.
“Anyway, that’s all we came to say.” I tried to smile, but it fell flat. “We’ll get going now.”
“Okay.” She didn’t ask any more questions or even seem that intrigued by what we’d told her. I couldn’t help but feel let down by her response.
We said goodbye and left. Zeke didn’t say much during the drive back to the safe house, and nor did I, despite the fact that our driver worked for King’s Security, so we didn’t have to worry about him overhearing our conversation. Zeke had his phone out, presumably to keep an eye on Bergen’s movements. Meanwhile, I was mulling over our conversation with Patience. Something about the encounter had been off, but I couldn’t put my finger on what.
The driver pulled up outside the apartment block and let us out. Before we could make it as far as the door, Detectives Harrison and Goodwin intercepted us. Goodwin’s hand was on his holster, and Harrison looked primed for a fight. My heart leaped.
“How did they find us?” I murmured to Zeke.
“I don’t know.” His mouth hardly moved as he spoke. “But I don’t like it.”
“Miss Ryan.” Detective Goodwin came to a stop in front of us. “Please come with us for questioning.”
“Why?” I demanded, so shocked by their presence that my filter vanished.
“New information has come to light.”
“You can talk here,” Zeke said firmly.
Goodwin ignored him. “You can come easily, and have a nice conversation with us, or you can resist, in which case I’m authorized to cuff you and bring you in. The end result is the same. Which would you prefer?”
My gut bottomed out, and my eyes grew hot. I was so tired of being treated like a criminal. “I’ll come with you, but I won’t speak without my attorney.”
I nodded to Zeke, indicating for him to contact Ariadne. When he returned the nod, I knew he’d understood. I went onto my toes and kissed him.
