Page 356
“Collectors, advisers and galleries. I’ve heard it on the grapevine. Art people talking. Helena Mercer asked whether Alice would consider another large-scale work.”
“And Alice refused?”
“That’s the problem. I don’t think she’s receiving the requests.”
The steel inside me burns brighter.
“Bill?”
“Possibly. Christopher may be involved too.”
“Cunts, both of them.”
“Undoubtedly.”
“What has Christopher been saying about the wedding?”
“Upcoming plans. Constantly. Venues, flowers, guest lists. He made a point of discussing them whenever I was nearby.” Bryce’s jaw tightens. “I don’t want him to marry her.”
“No shit, Sherlock. You never did. Neither did I.”
“I should’ve done more before now.”
“We both should have.”
Bryce looks at me, almost surprised.
I understand why.
The old Jack would tell him regret was a waste of energy, then announce some impossible plan before Bryce completed the thought.
“I don’t know how to reach her,” he says. “Her number is gone. Her profiles have disappeared. She isn’t responding through the gallery.”
“We’ll sort it.”
The certainty comes from somewhere deep.
Not swagger.
Not the assumption that I can beat every opponent because the universe finds me irresistible.
Something harder.
A willingness to keep trying after the first plan fails.
“How?” Bryce asks.
“I don’t know yet.”
He blinks.
“Did Jack Reid really just admit he doesn’t have a plan?”
“Temporary administrative delay.”
“Of course.”
“But we’ll find one.”
