21
FIONA
My heart gave a squeeze.I could see in Zeke’s eyes that he meant every word. I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could make a sound, he’d slid out of the car and put distance between us. Perhaps it was just as well. He had communications set up with Kade and his team via a recording device in his watch, so they could probably hear us. Now wasn’t the moment to confess the emotions building within me. I could do that later, in the privacy of my apartment.
I got out, closed the door quietly, and hurried after him, carrying the night vision visor. Thankfully, my shoes made little sound on the concrete as we rounded the building. I’d been worried there might be dogs, but Zeke and Kade had assured me that few people used dogs for security anymore, and the electronic jammer tucked into Zeke’s shirt would interfere with any external electronic security system that Bergen had in place. Zeke’s team had tried to figure out what system he was using, but without getting eyes on it, itwas impossible to be certain. Whatever the case, Kade would give us a heads-up if anyone came in our direction.
Zeke took a set of lock picks from his pocket and got to work on the lock. The faint scratching sounds seemed amplified in the darkness. I shifted restlessly. It felt like he was taking forever. I didn’t dare tell him to hurry up though, in case my voice caught the attention of anyone in the area. Finally, something clicked, and he pushed the door open.
Inside, a keypad glowed yellow on the wall. He attached a small device to it and we both held our breaths, aware that at any second, either a silent or audible alarm might go off. If the Monet was being kept here, Ireallydidn’t want to be caught with it. I counted in my head. When I got to three, the lights behind the keypad vanished and we both exhaled with relief.
“Visor on,” Zeke murmured. “Gloves too.”
I slipped it over my head and watched as the room came into focus, then pulled a pair of latex gloves from my pocket and pulled them on. We were in a back foyer. A door to the left opened onto an unclean bathroom, with what looked to be mold in patches on the floor and walls. To the right was a small room that might once have been an office, but was now littered with used syringes and God knew what else. I wrinkled my nose in disgust.
My heart hammering, I followed Zeke forward, where the small foyer opened into a wider space with a counter in front of one wall and shattered glass cabinets that used to house cigarettes. In here, the floor was clear. Someone had recently tidied up. In the center of the room stood two objects covered by a light sheet. My breath caught.Twopaintings?
I moved toward them, but Zeke put a hand on my arm to stop me.
“Slowly and carefully,” he said quietly.
We eased toward the objects. Once they were within reach, we took a corner of the sheet and lifted it off to uncover what lay beneath. My hand flew to my mouth. It wasDaisies.Or rather, two versions of it.Thank God. Part of me had worried we might be on a wild goose chase. I scanned the paintings. Were they both copies or was one of them the real deal?
Zeke nudged me with his shoulder, and when I turned to him, he cocked his head in question. I held up a finger to indicate to him that I needed a minute. I studied them both. The workmanship was exquisite. It was almost impossible to tell them apart, and they both looked like they could be the right vintage. But then I spotted something that gave it away. One of those brush strokes I recognized as Bergen’s signature style. It was nearly invisible, just a tiny flick in the bottom right corner, but it was there.
I released my breath and pointed. “That one is a copy. The other…” I returned my attention to the second painting. The use of layers and the play of light were unparalleled. While the forger had done a remarkable job of mimicking it, nothing could rival an original. “This is it,” I whispered in awe. I reached out, wishing I could touch the painting, but if I did, I might leave a trace of myself behind. The gloves weren’t foolproof.
Behind us, someone clapped.
I jolted in surprise. Light exploded across my vision, blinding me. I tore the night vision visor off and spun around. White spots danced in front of my eyes. I could hardly see anything. Slowly, my vision cleared. Beside me, I sensed Zeke stiffen as he realized the same thing I had. Bergen was here, and he was aiming a gun directly at me. But he wasn’t alone. At his side stood… I blinked, wondering if my eyes were deceiving me.
“Patience?” I asked.
The other woman sneered. Her hair was tied back, her face devoid of makeup, and her outfit was similar to mine, except for one very significant difference: the gun that hung loosely from her hand.
“What’s going on?” I demanded, my brain struggling to process this turn of events. “Why are you here?”
Bergen laughed. “Poor Fiona. Didn’t see that one coming, did you?”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”
Something solid brushed my arm and I realized that Zeke had closed the space between us. He had a weapon of his own, but I doubted he’d risk going for it when both of them were armed and focused on us.
“We were played,” Zeke said. “They’re working together.”
My stomach sank. Now that he’d said it, it was obvious. Bergen and Patience were here together, and Patience didn’t seem to be under any duress. She was part of this, maybe even from the beginning. Fury and hurt coiled and burned inside me. She’d helped set me up, or at least gone along with it, which meant she most likely knew I hadn’t been involved with the original theft. I couldn’t believe she’d do this to me. Perhaps we were no longer friends, but I hadn’t thought she hated me, and surely that’s what it would take for her to betray me like this.
I looked at Patience. At the grim set of her mouth and the tightness of her shoulders. “Why?”
ZEKE
Hot anger had swampedmy body. My fingernails bit into my palms as I stared at the duo in front of us, wondering whether I’d be able to get my weapon out before they could react. I was fast, but it had been a long time since I’d been tested in a situation like this.
Damn, why hadn’t I put the pieces together before now? I’d considered the inside man angle, but I’d given it up too quickly when none of the suspects seemed a likely fit. Patience had a clean record and no debt, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have expensive aspirations or bad taste in men. Now, because of my oversight, we’d been blindsided, and Fiona was experiencing a second betrayal. I had no doubt how much this must hurt her.
My watch vibrated once on my wrist, probably to let me know that Kade and his team were listening. I couldn’t communicate with them directly without cluing in Bergen to the fact that we weren’t alone, so I dropped my hand and tapped out a code on the side of my leg, telling them to wait for further instructions. If they burst in here right now, they’d easily take Bergen and Patience down, but someone might be hurt in the process—someone like Fiona. I didn’t want to risk it. Especially not if there was a way I could work their appearance to our advantage.
As soon as I finished tapping, I edged my hands together in front of me, slowly enough not to alarm them. I made a show of interlocking my fingers, then deftly slipped one of my thumbs around to tap the button that would record any audio being transmitted from here back to Kade.
