The week’s residue seeped in and caused a wave of melancholy. Distracting myself, I reached for a crispy strip of bacon and chewed on the saltiness, moaning in appreciation.
He unscrewed the syrup bottle and raised it in a gesture to see if I wanted some and then trickled it over our waffles. “Just say the word and she will no longer exist.” He held my gaze, searching for the answer.
If anything went wrong with his plan he could quite possibly lose The Wilder Museum and for me, it would mean the end of the possibility of ever owning my paintings again. Even my Michelangelo in The National Gallery was under threat. My reputation would be decimated.
“This is what we’ll tell Huntly Pierre.” Tobias sat beside me. “I’m in New York hunting down a rare painting and you’re helping me. They won’t need to know what it is. I’m also here to host a charitable ball that will be held in the Terrace Room at The Plaza tomorrow evening. The invites went out late but that shouldn’t be an issue.”
I took a bite out of a waffle and it melted on my tongue. “So it will look like business as usual for you?”
“Exactly.”
“What if the Burells take your Mona Lisa and stash her in one of their other homes not connected to our paintings?”
“His father has consistently kept his stolen paintings together in one place.” Tobias set his mug on the tray. “That’s why they found Rembrandt’s The Storm on the Sea of Galilee under the same roof as your collection.”
“The FBI saw them and just walked away. They did nothing.”
“He has powerful friends.”
“I hope your satellite was right and they really are in New York.” I dragged my fingers through my hair, feeling my frustration rise. “I can’t get over that he still has Rembrandt’s painting.” I’d seen it personally, and though I’d stood a little way back, everything pointed to it being authentic.
Tobias shrugged. “His lawyers claimed it was fake.”
I closed my eyes in frustration. “The Burells don’t entertain fake paintings. They’re obsessed with owning the real thing.”
“That works to our benefit this time round.”
“You saw my paintings when you stole the Titian in France?”
Tobias bit into a slice of bacon.
“I just need to hear you say it.”
He mulled that over. “I rappelled into the rotunda and deactivated the floor tiles. The raven didn’t fly in on my descent. It flew in when I was trying to get out.”
This very case had piqued my interest and I’d read the records taken by the French police but hearing it from the man himself was riveting.
He gave a nod and continued, “There was a secret door in the rotunda that the authorities didn’t discover. Once on the ground I searched the room and a panel gave way. I used a sound detector to boom off the wall and it indicated it was hollow. It didn’t take me long to find the entry to their second vault. Your paintings were in there. I had enough time to look around and that was it. I snapped several photos of the paperwork and that’s why the dates you saw on the photographs indicated they were taken a few months ago.”
I recalled how he’d shown me the evidence my paintings hadn’t been destroyed in that childhood fire when we’d visited his downtown LA penthouse. Those photos had stirred both panic and exhilaration at the same time and a hope I’d never imagined. “How did they look?”
“Breathtaking.”
“You recognized what you saw?”
“I’d heard the Romanov collection had been destroyed in a fire. I knew what I was looking at. I was heartbroken for the previous owner, considering the circumstances.”
“You’d entered the rotunda as Icon.” I reached out and touched his arm to thank him for sharing this with me. “Reporting what you found had the greatest risk to you.”
Yet he’d shared this secret with me anyway, knowing I’d eventually connect such knowledge with Icon.
He looked conflicted. “I knew the danger to you was extraordinary should you find out about them. As I got to know you I trusted you. Right up until you gate-crashed Elliot Burell’s granddaughter’s wedding. Telling you about them put you in harm’s way.”
“I put myself there.”
“You brought our agenda forward.”
“You’re always so forgiving, Tobias.”
“When it comes to you.”
I broke his intense gaze. “Did you get any sleep last night?”
“A few hours. I got up early to finish the painting.” He cringed as though hating mentioning it. “When the time comes you won’t have to worry. I have what it takes to destroy it.”
“I should be there when you do it.”
“If you want.” He pushed the tray aside. “Do you want to sleep in?”
“No. I’m awake now. Did you go for a run this morning?”
“Yes, and worked out with Jade.”
“Jade?”
“She helps me do pull-ups.”
“Seriously?”
“She’s capable of lifting a person off the ground.” He rubbed my tummy. “You should try it sometime.”
I laughed as he tickled me. “My stomach is fine, mister.”
“Yes, you’re perfect. We just don’t want to remind you and have you running off with Mr. Perfect.” He dipped to kiss my belly button.
I giggled. “Careful, you’ll spill the coffee.”
He patted the mattress. “It’s built to withstand quite a lot. As you’ve discovered.”
“You are Mr. Perfect.”
“I’m the man your mom warned you about...” He grimaced.
I reached up and ruffled his hair. “She’d have loved you. So would my dad.”
“After all the trouble I’ve gotten you into?”
I smiled to reassure him. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Oh?”
I exhaled a shaky breath of doubt. “Maybe we should just let them go, Tobias.” On his look of protest I added, “We have each other and if we go to the police now—”
“We’re closer than you think.”
“We’re taking on a monster.”
“Yes, but someone has to.”
This felt like the walls between us were finally coming down.
Tobias looked resilient. “What Elliot did to me made me stronger. I became more than I was. And now I’m coming for him.”
“You want to end this?”
“Him, Zara, I’m ready to end Elliot Burell.”
“Just be careful, that’s all I ask. If anything happened to you—”
He pressed his forefinger to my lips to silence me and I bit it playfully.
“Careful. You’re already in the danger zone.”
“Danger zone?”
“If you’re standing within feet of me. Anything can happen when you’re taunting me with your beauty.” He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed my wrist, pressing his soft lips against my skin.
I let out a contented sigh. “Thank you for breakfast.”
“I made something else for you.” He pulled me up. “Want to see?”
“What is it?”
He walked over to his bedside table, reached in and pulled out a virtual reality headset. “I thought this might be fun for you.”
I clambered off the bed, eager to see what he’d designed.
He slid the headset over my head. “Comfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Hold your breath.”
“Why?”
“Jade, run program for Zara.”
As the visor cleared I was looking out at an underwater view and instinctively held my breath. I jolted when an enormous great whale swam by me and I reached out to run my hand over his body as adrenaline surged through me.
Tobias caressed my back. “One day I’ll take you to Hawa
ii.”
“This was filmed there?”
“Yes.”
I could almost feel the sand between my toes as I looked down at my feet that were firmly on land now. The image had changed to surrounding lush green foliage and just above me a waterfall cascaded into a lagoon. The sound of water whooshed in my ears.
“As the Met is currently out-of-bounds I wanted to bring the gallery to you. Jade, run ‘Met on Fifth Avenue.’”
I peered up at the splendor of the front of the gallery with its tall marble pillars before the architecture grandness of the New York building. “How do you create these?”
“I visit the gallery and film it. What would you like to see first? Medieval art? Greek or—”
“Old masters.”
“Jade, comply.”
I stood within the center of a room surrounded by exquisite art adorning pristine walls with a Renoir to my right and a Monet to my left, and straight ahead was Michelangelo’s 1506 Saint John the Baptist Bearing Witness, the painting first attributed to Francesco Granacci but later discovered to be created by Michelangelo. It was a colorful portrayal of St. John the Baptist standing in the center of a sparse landscape surrounded by a crowd who had come to hear him speak, including Christ’s disciples.
My gaze fell on the portrait beside it by Francisco de Goya and I remembered this artist was a favorite of Wilder’s. Not that long ago in London, Tobias’s passion had fueled our adventure at Blandford Palace where we’d run down endless hallways on a mission to discover a long-lost 1800 The Nude Maja hidden behind another painting. She’d been beautiful, a young woman lying naked on a bed and holding the viewer’s eyes with a relaxed confidence.
Stepping forward to view another painting by Goya, I marveled at the image of a small child standing center stage within the canvas. The child was dressed in an orange costume and holding a small pet magpie secured on the end of a string. Three cats loomed close to the bird in a sinister display of danger. To the boy’s right sat a cage full of finches. Goya masterfully stirred a sense of danger by reminding us of the frail boundaries of evil threatening our innocence.
These were beautiful, all of them, but nothing came close to being near the real paintings and I eased off the headset and turned to look at him.
He gave a nod as though he’d read my mind. “I’m working on getting us to a real gallery. I didn’t want you to go cold turkey on me.”
He made me smile. “You’re always thinking of me.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “How long do we have before we have to face the authorities?”
“Not long.”
My thoughts swirled as I realized our time here was at an end. “What did you do?”
“I called Adley two days ago. I told your boss we’re in New York.”
A jolt of fear hit me. “Abby Reynolds probably flew out with him to try to find us.”
“They won’t have to try too hard, Zara. I’ve set a meeting with them. I also need to schedule a meeting with the FBI.”
“But they suspect you’re quite possibly Icon?”
“That’s why this meeting is so important. I must convince them of your innocence.”
“And you?”
“Icon no longer exists.”
I exhaled a steady breath. “What about the Burells?”
“It’s time for me to step into their line of fire. There’s no other way.”
Terror shot up my spine. “What?”
“It’s time to open Pandora’s box. In other words, the mind of Eli Burell.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“It’s best you don’t, Zara.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I need to lay a trap with the bait. It must be done in person. He must believe he has one up on us.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“You’ll be safer here.” Tobias took my hand and led me toward a watercolor of the English countryside hanging on the far left wall. He lifted it off its hanger and revealed a safe. “Press your thumb here.” He accessed it with his own thumbprint and the door clicked open. He reached in and removed a British passport. I recognized the dog-eared corner that proved it was mine.
He handed it to me. “If anything happens to me go back to London. Wait for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I don’t come back here by the end of today.”
“I’m not staying in this house while you’re running around putting yourself in harm’s way.”
“Burell is unpredictable. I need to know you are safe.” He gave me a reassuring smile.
Tobias carried out the tray of food and I was left staring at my passport in stunned silence.
I burst into action and within the wardrobe quickly found a smart black skirt and white blouse and pulled over it a Chanel jacket. If the meeting with my boss was today I’d be ready. I just hoped they believed the party line that billionaire Tobias Wilder had hired me to authenticate a rare piece he’d hunted down. It wasn’t too much of a lie if you counted in the fact we were searching for my paintings.
I rummaged within the shoe boxes until I found the kind of pumps I could run in.
Tobias wasn’t going alone.
CHAPTER TEN
THE CAB DRIVER dropped us off at Central Park.
Tobias and I leisurely strolled the urban sanctuary with its sprawling trees, pretty fountains and beloved monuments. It was nice to be outside but at the same time I knew we were vulnerable, and time seemed to speed up as we careened toward the inevitable.
We huddled on a park bench watching the early morning joggers, the mothers pushing their prams and tourists eagerly moving on to their next sightseeing spot.
Tobias leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his palms.
“This is a good idea,” I said.
He sat up and stared at me. “Let’s agree to disagree.”
“I can watch your back.”
“Zara, when it comes to meeting with Eli, he’s unpredictable.”
“I handled him in Arizona.”
He frowned at me. “You mean right before you fell through his trapdoor?”
“I suppose there was that.”
He shook his head. “You’re predictably stubborn.”
No, I wasn’t going to just stay indoors while Tobias ran into the center of danger.
He turned to look at me. “Let’s talk about the Mona Lisa.”
“Let’s not.”
“Perhaps when I bump into enemy number one it would be a good idea to know if I’m using the bait or not.”
I folded my arms. “I’m undecided.”
“Right.” He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “This should be interesting, then.”
I followed Tobias’s gaze and saw Coops riding toward us on a bicycle. He wore a baseball cap and round-rimmed glasses and it made him look covert as he pulled up behind our bench.
He removed his rucksack and came over. “How’s it going, boss?”
Tobias rose and met him halfway. “Good. How’s things?”
Coops glanced over at me as though checking it was safe to talk.
“It’s okay,” he reassured him.
“Ms. Leighton.” Coops gave a nod in greeting and raised his rucksack as he turned back to Wilder. “Once you turn on the app you’ll appear on the grid. Burell will locate you using his satellite. You’ll have twenty minutes until he gets to you. Turn off the app—”
“And I’m invisible.” Tobias gave a nod of approval. “Well done, Coops.”
“We’re invisible,” I added as I walked toward them, realizing Coops was in the loop with all of this.
Tobias had planned on bringing the enemy to us. That was scary but I knew there was only one way through this and that was forward.
He took th
e rucksack from Coops, rummaged around inside and pulled out his smartphone. He dug around further and removed an iPhone and handed it to me. “It’s a burner phone. In case we get separated. There’s one number programmed in. Mine.” Tobias tucked his phone into his pocket.
I slid the phone into my handbag. “What happens when Eli finds us?”
“The biggest game of cat and mouse will ensue.” Tobias gave a confident smile. “We know how much he loves those.”
He was referring to the contraption Eli had created called Mousetrap for the Inevitable, an art-inspired device to trap those who’d trespassed into his safe in Arizona. We’d learned the painful lesson ourselves that Eli had a penchant for torture when we’d gotten caught in it.
I reached into my handbag. “Coops, I have something for you. They say these deteriorate with time.” I pulled out the videotape of Tobias’s birthday party.
Tobias recognized it, and then his gaze rose to meet mine.
“This has great value,” I told Coops. “Can you please get this converted to a digital file? We need to preserve it. No one must see it. It pertains to a private moment in Mr. Wilder’s life.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He glanced over at Tobias, who gave a smile of resignation and handed the rucksack back.
“Thank you, Coops.” He shook his head at me, and yet I could see it touched him that I cared enough to see this precious piece of his past preserved. Coops slid the videotape into his bag.
“Tomorrow night is all set.” Coops arched his eyebrows playfully. “A Wilder charity ball always attracts the best guests. I made this one a five-thousand-dollar-ticket event. You gave me full reign so I chose your charity dedicated to helping orphaned immigrants.”
“Thank you, Coops, well done.” Tobias’s tone was kind. “Tell everyone that’s why I’m in New York.”
“Adley Huntly was surprisingly pleasant,” said Coops. “Though he does want you to call him personally.”
“I’ll be seeing him in person tomorrow.”
“He wanted to know what this painting is that you’re hunting down,” he said.
Tobias shoved his hands into his pockets. “All I’ll say is that it has a Russian origin.”
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