Suddenly, Tess couldn’t bear to see it. She picked up the remote and turned the screen off. She was surrounded by darkness.
It always turned out that way in the end.
She got up, taking a deep breath. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Ilsa got on that plane and she had to get on her own symbolic plane as well. It didn’t matter what her heart was telling her. Her head was better equipped to deal with this situation.
Shay Sullivan. He had run away from her all those years ago. And now, she had to run away from him, if she was to survive.
***
Mr. Gee was a little late. Tess paced the studio, waiting for him. Her head ached like her skull was made of cotton wool.
She picked up her water bottle from the bench in the kitchen and drank deeply, fighting to stay awake. She had crawled back into bed last night but hadn’t managed to sleep more than a few hours. She had tossed and turned in that still unfamiliar bed, trying to stop the memory of Shay kissing her from replaying over and over in her mind like a glitched reel from a film. Her own personal Casablanca. Waiting for the plane to carry her away.
She was doing the right thing. The only thing that she could do. She must extract him from her life just as suddenly as he had reappeared within it. She would tell Paul Hopkins that he hadn’t provided any useful information on the case and that she recommended that they not pursue that particular lead any further. Clear cut and end of story. She would never have to see Shay again.
It was the truth, anyway. Shay didn’t appear to know who their employer was and couldn’t lead her to him. Or if he did, he wasn’t about to tell her. There was no need at all to get in contact with him again, and if he contacted her, she would coolly tell him that she had decided it wasn’t a good idea.
He would take it graciously. Wouldn’t he?
But then she shivered, remembering his eyes when they kissed. The intensity of them. Almost as if he wanted to devour her. She had never seen such passion in the eyes of anyone that she had ever been with.
There was a sharp rap on the door. Tess jumped, then quickly walked over to it and opened it.
“Good afternoon,” said Mr. Gee, brushing past her into the studio. She noticed that he was carrying his laptop in its black shell cover, which he placed on the kitchen bench. Then he walked into the centre of the room, staring at the painting on the easel. “How are you progressing today?”
Tess took a deep breath, standing beside him. “Good, I think. I am almost past the intricate brush work. It should be ready on schedule, by the end of next week.”
Mr. Gee frowned as he studied it. “Yes, it is coming along,” he said slowly. “But remember that you cannot get sloppy with this particular bit. I would prefer it to be a couple of days late than rush this section.” He paused. “This is the key to the painting, and it will be picked up immediately if it isn’t done correctly.”
Tess nodded. “I understand.”
Mr. Gee’s cell phone suddenly started buzzing. He frowned again, looking at the screen, then took the call. He walked away towards the windows, speaking in a low voice. He seemed to be arguing with someone, then he abruptly hung up.
Tess’s eyes widened as he turned towards her. He seemed agitated, which was unusual to say the least. Mr. Gee was usually deadly calm; he was the most unflappable person that she had ever encountered, wearing his professional face like a mask of honour. But something had rattled him now.
“I have to leave for a minute,” he said, abruptly, turning towards the door and rushing out. Tess stared after him, her eyes agog. What had happened?
And that was when she noticed that in his haste, he had left his laptop on the kitchen bench.
Her heart started to beat a little faster. This was the opportunity that they had been waiting for, almost offered up to her on a platter. But could she risk it?
Her eyes darted around, resting on the hidden camera in the corner of the kitchen. It had been placed in a vase, and it was the only one that would capture her looking at the laptop if she decided to do it. The rest of them were in the living space of the studio, and the positions they were placed in meant that they wouldn’t capture her movements in the kitchen. But still—how was she going to stop the kitchen camera from recording her?
She had to think quickly. Mr. Gee might be back at any moment, and then the opportunity would be lost.
She took a deep breath, then turned around, pretending that she had suddenly lost her balance. She flailed her hands and caught the vase, sending it crashing to the floor. It shattered into pieces.
She didn’t have much time. Quickly, she took the laptop out of the case, and turned it on. Strangely, it wasn’t even password protected. The screen flickered to life.
Her bag was hanging on the back of one of the kitchen stools. She rummaged through it, her heart pounding, until her hand closed over what she was looking for. The flash drive, onto which she could copy all his files.
She jammed the drive into the computer, opening the documents. She didn’t even look at them. Her heart was pounding so hard now that she felt it might explode in her chest. Her hand shaking, she started copying them all onto the drive. A display window popped up, telling her that it would take six minutes.
Six minutes. She could feel sweat breaking out on her forehead.
Her eyes were glued to the screen, watching the progress. Twenty percent. Then thirty. The minutes seemed to tick by agonisingly. Tess’s eyes flickered to the door. If Mr. Gee walked through that door now, she was a goner. There was simply no way that she could talk her way out of it. She would probably be floating in the Covenester River by sunset, a bullet wound in her head.
Fifty percent.
She took a deep, gulping breath, trying desperately to quell the panic in her chest. It was taking too long. He was going to walk back through that door and catch her in the act, she just knew it. She imagined the look on his face when he saw what she was doing. She would have to fight him and run for her life. Which would mean that her cover would be blown to smithereens, and all her hard work would be for nothing.
What would Paul Hopkins say when he found out how she had wrecked the case? She could feel the sweat dripping down her neck now.
Her eyes flickered to the screen. Seventy percent.
She drummed her fingers on the bench, willing it to finish. The risk was overwhelming. She had disabled the camera in the vase, but that didn’t mean that there mightn’t be another stashed in here that she hadn’t discerned. Even now someone could be watching what she was doing on a small monitor somewhere and calling in reinforcements. The door might be kicked down. Anything could happen.
One hundred percent. She felt her lungs draw a deep breath, as she if she had suddenly surfaced after a dangerous swim. She ripped the flash drive out of the laptop, thrusting it into her pocket. Then she quickly closed the laptop and put it back in its case, snapping the lid shut.
Her heart was beating so hard it was a wonder it didn’t rip out of her chest entirely. She took another deep breath and ran to the kitchen cupboard. She had seen a dustpan and brush somewhere in there.
The front door opened, and Mr. Gee walked in.
His eyes widened in horror when he saw the smashed vase on the floor. He stared at her, uncomprehendingly.
Tess looked up at him, dustpan in hand. “Sorry. I was wiping down the bench and I knocked it over.”
He looked dumbfounded. “Do you realise how much that vase cost?” he hissed, eventually. “It is a Ming dynasty antique!”
Tess shrugged her shoulders, clearing up the shards. “I had no idea,” she said, staring up at him. “I didn’t mean it.”
Mr. Gee took a deep breath. “This is unacceptable, Miss Daly. How am I going to explain this to our employer? And quite frankly, your clumsiness astonishes me. You are a painter used to working delicately. This is the act of a buffoon!”
Tess cleared up the last of the shards, dumping them into a bin. She stood up and turned to him.
“I�
��d watch your step, Mr. Gee,” she said calmly. “There might be some little bits that I’ve missed.”
He drew himself up straighter, staring at her through narrowed eyes. “This will be on my report,” he huffed, picking up his laptop. “And I can’t say what the consequences will be. Our employer might decide to dock your pay.”
Tess nodded. “So be it. I can hardly go back in time and unbreak it, can I?”
He rolled his eyes, staring at her as if she were something unpleasant he had just discovered on the bottom of his shoe. Without another word, he swept out of the studio, slamming the door behind him.
Tess watched the door, feeling her heart slow down to a regular beat. She had done it. All that he had been concerned about was the damn vase. He hadn’t even glanced at his laptop when he had walked back in.
She could feel elation soar through her, as well as a sudden sag in energy. She leaned against the kitchen bench, feeling as if she might topple over at any moment.
Her fingers gripped the flash drive in her pocket, squeezing it tight. This might be it. This might be the breakthrough on this case that they so sorely needed. She suppressed the urge to run out of the studio waving it high in the air in victory.
She couldn’t even leave the studio. Not yet. She had to prepare her lunch as normal, then calmly continue painting. Act as if this was just another day. She couldn’t afford to raise any suspicions, especially after the broken vase. Even though she was almost one hundred percent sure that she had gotten away with it, there was still a chance that they may have seen.
Still, she couldn’t suppress the smile that suddenly broke out onto her face. It had been unbelievably risky, but she had done it, by the skin of her teeth. It was a good feeling. No, it was a great feeling. A high so delicious that it almost erased her conflict over that damn kiss away completely.
All that they needed was on that flash drive. And now she would never have to see Shay Sullivan again.
That was good…wasn’t it? A win-win all round. And then she remembered what the consequences of tying up this case once and for all were.
It wasn’t just a matter of choosing not to see Shay again. He would be rounded up along with all the other people who worked for this organisation. She was condemning him, well and truly.
She took a deep breath, trying to harden her heart. He knew the risks. He was a professional criminal and understood that there was always a possibility that he could be found out. It was not her responsibility in the slightest what ended up happening to him. She was just doing her job.
She turned to the fridge, taking out some cheese and bread. She would make a toasted sandwich the same as she always did and then get back to work. She wouldn’t think about Shay and what might happen to him a second further.
But as she sliced the cheese she had to admit that the thought of Shay, and what was probably going to happen to him, had wrecked her buzz at copying the files, just a little.
***
The man replayed the short footage of Miss Daly over and over again. A slow smile spread over his face as he squinted at the black and white tape.
He paused it, watching her reaction when she realised that Mr. Gee, in his haste to leave, had left the laptop on the bench. A sudden widening of her eyes that she quickly suppressed. He could almost hear the cogs of her brain working furiously, trying to figure out a way that she could access the computer before his minion returned.
He chuckled and pressed play again. He watched her eyes dart towards the vase, then her dramatic play act of falling over and smashing it to the ground. The footage suddenly fuzzed, and the next thing he could see her feet on the kitchen floor, before it suddenly went black.
He leaned back in his black leather chair. She had known that there was a camera in the vase, obviously. She had also known that the other cameras were in the large living space of the studio and wouldn’t be able to pick up her charade. A clever woman. But then, she always had been.
He smiled again. She had taken advantage of a golden opportunity, but she hadn’t thought to question how she had gained access to the laptop so easily. Perhaps she might later, once the excitement of the incident had faded from her mind a little. It might remain as a little wriggle of doubt at the back of her mind. But it would be overshadowed completely by her belief that she had managed to find all that she needed to know. She would push the doubt further back and take pride in her success.
He stood up, stretching. This game of cat and mouse was so enjoyable it was tempting to sit here for the rest of the day replaying the footage just to watch how she thought she had outplayed him. But he was a busy man, as always, and couldn’t afford to indulge it. He had already wasted an hour.
The door opened. He turned around. There was Mr. Gee, as impassive and professional as always. He had been so lucky to find him. He had the personality of a single cell amoeba, but he was loyal. And that was a quality in short abundance.
“Our mouse has taken the bait,” he announced.
Mr. Gee nodded, but he frowned. “Sir, if I may say, it seems somewhat…indulgent, to set up this elaborate trap for her. Why do you want her to think that she is succeeding? We usually deal with people like this swiftly and permanently.”
The man smiled. “I have my reasons, Mr. Gee. They are very personal, and they shouldn’t concern you in the least. All that you need to do is follow instructions and not worry about anything. It is all under control, I do assure you.”
Mr. Gee nodded. “How did you know she would do it? It was a big risk for her to take.”
The man’s smile broadened. “How could she resist? It was like laying a piece of cheese before the mouse. She knew that she mightn’t have another opportunity to copy what was on that laptop.” He paused. “She is a trained agent and must assess risks quickly. She obviously decided that this was one worth taking, as I knew she would.”
Mr. Gee stared at him. “She will be taking the information to her superiors tonight. Do you want me to start putting in place phase two of your plan?”
The man nodded. “Yes, they will want to move swiftly once they think they have the information they want. We need to be prepared.”
Mr. Gee nodded, turning to leave. “Oh, what about the other one? Our Mr. Stedman.”
The man drummed his fingers on the control counter, staring at the wall of screens behind him. He could see Miss Daly painstakingly applying brushstrokes to the painting on the easel, trying to pretend that it was business as usual. How strongly would she be itching to ditch it and hightail it to her superiors with her loot?
He admired her iron control. She was a professional, through and through. Except in one tiny area. And that was regarding Mr. Stedman, mover of counterfeit art.
He thought of what Mr. Gee had told him last night. About how they had shared an interesting evening together in the city that had culminated in a passionate kiss in the back of a cab. Miss Daly and Mr. Stedman had feelings for one another. It would be interesting to see that develop, just for the pleasure of seeing how much more it would hurt them.
Would Mr. Stedman act like the heroic knight in shining armour, trying to rescue her? And would Miss Daly cry piteously, begging him not to harm a hair on her paramour’s head?
He smiled, toying with the idea. The possibilities as to how it was going to play out were endless. A veritable cornucopia of scenarios. He was the puppet master pulling the strings, after all. They were just the marionettes who had no idea which way they were being pulled.
He turned to Mr. Gee. “Mr. Stedman has been dealt with. It is all on Miss Daly’s flash drive for her to discover.”
Mr. Gee frowned, nodding. He looked mystified but didn’t question any further.
The man smiled again. “You say that our Miss Daly pushed him away after their passionate kiss? She has doubts, poor thing. Her professional and personal sides are warring with each other.” He paused. “I think Mr. Stedman and Miss Daly need to be shown that they are made for each other, and I do bel
ieve that Miss Daly will be unable to resist the bait.”
Chapter Twelve
Tess drove into the large car park, frowning as she tried to find an empty spot. Despite the fact it was a Saturday it was jam packed. Eventually she discovered one at a far off point, and eased the tiny car into it, turning off the engine.
She stepped out, adjusting her black jacket. This was an official meeting and she had to look the part. A smart black tailored two-piece suit, crisp white shirt, and black pumps. She had even managed to tame her hair into a severe high ponytail.
She glanced down at herself. Yes, she looked like an FBI agent. She grabbed her briefcase off the backseat of the car and headed towards the building, clicking the auto lock remote of the car behind her shoulder as she walked off.
There it was. Federal Bureau of Investigation Headquarters. It had taken her over two hours to get here, but they had deemed the information she had gathered important enough to justify the drive, rather than meeting up at an impromptu spot in Covenester.
She had delivered the flash drive to Paul Hopkins last night. They had quickly arranged a meet-up after she had finally gotten back to the flat and was able to call him. Tess puffed with pride just thinking about it. Her superior had been elated. And the call to drive here to discuss it had come early this morning.
Just as she was walking up the steps to the front entrance, her cell phone started buzzing. Tess took it out of her jacket pocket, frowning as she stared at it.
Shay. Again. She pressed end on the call, then turned the phone off entirely. She needed to concentrate in this meeting, which couldn’t happen if her phone was calling every five minutes. It was only a slight exaggeration, she thought, smiling ruefully. She had about ten missed calls from him since last night. And she had not answered a single one. He should be getting the message loud and clear by now that she didn’t want to speak to him, but he was nothing if not persistent.
She walked to reception and got directions, quickly running up a flight of stairs. Don’t think about Shay, she told herself fiercely. The truth was murkier than she was admitting to herself. The truth was that she was being a coward by ducking his calls. She should just tell him that it was a no-go between them and be done with it.
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