Illicit Artifacts

by Stevie Mikayne

  “Oh, whatever. I’m flattered.”

  “You’re having a great time, aren’t you? Men are at a distinct disadvantage, seeing as our attraction is—obvious.”

  Jil smirked. “Back to my question. What did Duncan ask for in exchange for his information?”

  Fraser exhaled and shook his head. For a long moment, Jil was afraid he wouldn’t answer. “I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to tell you this story.”

  “Is that why you lied to me about knowing Elise in the first place? I mean, that and your strict moral code when it comes to criminal confidentiality.”

  His jaw twitched.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t ask you for any more clothes.”

  He sighed. “Yes. She had asked me to keep you out of the investigation in exchange for her full cooperation. And even if she hadn’t, having met you, I didn’t think the story of how I screwed up my investigation with your foster mother would’ve made me a good candidate in your mind to investigate your own theft.”

  She took a deep breath, trying to recount all the ways in which she’d suspected him. His own professional pride had never factored into her theories about why he’d lied to her. “I see. So you screwed up with Elise. How?”

  “By believing MacLeod in the first place. He had compelling evidence—”

  “Fabricated?” Jil guessed.

  “Of course. But he had me believing he could blow the whistle on some big heist that had been planned at the museum with a collection borrowed from Germany. Turns out he was just keeping me busy while the work got done, and giving himself an airtight alibi. He’d been with me at the time.” Fraser shook his head, a red tinge creeping up his neck. “By the time I figured out Elise was innocent and MacLeod had orchestrated the whole thing, a bunch of valuable items had been marched right out of the exhibit.”

  “In broad daylight?”

  “Of course.”

  She frowned. “Why you? Why did he target you? Because you were new, or was there more to it?”

  Fraser’s eye twitched. “We have a…history.”

  “Because of your father?”

  He blew air out through his nostrils. “You’ve been investigating me, I take it.”

  “Only a little.” She smiled sweetly at him.

  “Yes. Because of my father. Because MacLeod framed him for a heist during my time in the academy and I was stupid enough—or ballsy enough—to make a threat to him, telling him I’d fry his ass one day.”

  Jil shrugged. “Well, you sort of have.”

  “It took too long,” Fraser spat. “And it wasn’t a clean victory either.”

  “Did you recover the goods?”

  “A few, when we got lucky and closed in on a handoff taking place at the docks, but the most valuable piece was never recovered.”

  “The Fabergé brooch. That’s what you’ve been looking for this whole time? That’s why you’ve been at the safety deposit box, trying to find Mila—you thought she might have stolen it?”

  Fraser nodded. “It’s the clincher. The piece I need to put MacLeod behind bars for the rest of his life. It’s the piece that proves his involvement in the Toronto heist of 1990.”

  “And clears your father,” Jil finished.

  Fraser ducked his head. “I’m sorry. I just needed to see it for myself. I needed the proof that my father was the man I thought he was. That trying to clear his name has been worth all the sacrifices I’ve made—for my integrity and my job.”

  “And you couldn’t just come out and ask me?”

  “Ask you what? Could I have back the piece of stolen property Elise took to her grave?”

  Jil shot him a look. “Well, apparently, she didn’t take it to her grave.”

  “I didn’t know that. I assumed that it had been sealed in the casket with her.” He ran his hand through his hair.

  “How did you know Elise had it?”

  “When I arrested McLeod and found his coded records with no indication of that brooch going anywhere. He confessed it was the one thing he’d held on to. He wanted it as a gift.”

  Jil frowned. A gift?

  Something on the recording nagged at her. Pin it on yourself. Take it as my promise. Of course, he’d given it to Elise. As proof of the pledge he’d made. And she’d worn it to her grave to remind him to keep his word.

  “And you couldn’t just say that? You had to get me charged on suspicion of murder?”

  He exhaled loudly. “Murder is the only evidence compelling enough to get a body exhumed. I had to see for myself. I had to try to put him away and make the charges stick to him. I needed to hold him accountable for his actions. His crimes.”

  Jil stared at him in disbelief. “Do you have any idea—”

  Fraser held out his hands. “Yes. Yes, I know. But listen. Please.”

  “To what? You’re going to try to talk your way out of this? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

  “I know,” he shouted. “But you don’t understand. Do you know how much of an advantage he has now that she’s dead? He can rewrite all sorts of history. Elise could make all the deals with him that she wanted, but he has the upper hand because he’s alive. He is a powerful and well connected man. He can make people say and do whatever he wants. Do you think he’d care about her memory if pinning his crimes on her could save himself? I know how it would have played out: Elise’s name would have been splashed over the front of every newspaper in the city. They would have dug into her whole life, then yours by extension.”

  Jil sat down, her knees shaking. “You don’t know it would have happened. You just cared about having your father’s name cleared.”

  “Yes, that too. I admit it.” Fraser took a seat beside her. “I’m sorry. I know how it looks.”

  “It looks like you’re an asshole,” she muttered. But the venom had gone out of her words.

  “I knew the charge would never stick.” Fraser touched her arm. “I risked something big, and I told myself I was doing it for you as well as me. I still believe that, but…I’m sorry.”

  She turned away from him. The memory of the coffin being cracked made bile rise up from her throat.

  All for the sake of a fucking brooch.

  A brooch that was now missing.

  She stood up and walked to the door. “Go to hell.”

  Chapter Thirty-four

  “I can’t.” Jil tugged Gigi’s hand and led her away from the door to Elise’s forbidden library.

  “Oh, c’mon, aren’t you curious?” Gigi turned back toward the door. She never could resist temptation—one thing Jil normally loved about being with her, but which today she found mildly infuriating.

  “Just one peek. Then we can go upstairs and listen to sappy music and make out.” Gigi pulled Jil close and kissed her, slipping her tongue in to her mouth. “I was thinking today…you know…”

  Jil’s jaw dropped. “Today? Well, hello, let’s skip the breaking-and-entering and go straight for the ‘today.’”

  “I just want to see what secrets she’s got in there…”

  “Gigi, they’re secrets. That’s why the door’s closed.” Jil thought of the glimpses she’d got into Elise’s private world—the marble elephant in the corner of the room, beside the lush indoor trees…

  “Just one look, then we’ll go.”

  Elise had left an hour ago for the market and would be home any time now.

  Jil felt her nipples harden as Gigi brushed one breast with the back of her hand. God, that girl knew how to persuade anyone.

  “Just one peek. That’s it.” Jil reached into the mouth of the jade fish with gold leaf gills and picked out an ornate silver key.

  “Seriously?” Gigi stared at her. “Why bother to lock it if you know where the key is?”

  “It’s for other people. She’s supposed to be able to trust me.”

  “Okay. I swear to forget.”

  “And don’t tell!” Jil fit the key into the lock and felt the bolt shift back. Her heart beat faster as she
pushed the door open, Gigi right behind her.

  “Wow.” Gigi took in the spiral staircase to the loft, and the two-story shelves of books. “What does someone do with all these? She can’t have read them all!”

  “Maybe eighty percent.” Jil twirled around slowly and brushed her hand over Elise’s giant mahogany desk. She reached out to touch a globe, the countries on which were made of semi-precious stones. When she pushed it, it twirled on its delicate silver axes. Mesmerizing.

  “Look at this painting.” Gigi had stopped in front of the fireplace and stood gaping. “What is it? Paris?”

  “I think so.”

  “Wow. She sure likes her art.”

  Jil fixed her with a withering look. “You know what she does for a living, right?”

  “Yeah, but still.”

  Jil smiled. “Elise thinks that the main purpose of life is happiness. She likes these things, so she surrounds herself with them.”

  “What about you?”

  “Yeah, she likes me too. Probably would like me less if she found me snooping in her library.”

  “We’re not snooping. We’re art appreciating.”

  A blown glass ring holder glinted from the side of the mahogany desk, and Jil reached out to pluck off Elise’s emerald ring. She slipped it onto her finger and admired the glimmering stone in the soft light from the stained glass lamps.

  “Getting married?” Gigi said.

  Jil stuck out her tongue. “Not unless they change the law.”

  She glanced in the mirror. In the distorted reflection, it looked like the side of the staircase had tilted. Or was it a crack in the paneling…?

  She was about to turn around and examine it when the front door opened.

  They both froze.

  “Quick!” Jil shoved Gigi toward the library door.

  “C’mon!” Gigi pulled her.

  Jil scampered out after her, and with trembling hands, managed to lock the door.

  Gigi ducked into the main hall bathroom as Jil slipped the key back into the fish mouth just before Elise passed by, carrying canvas bags of groceries.

  “Let me help you.” Jil rushed forward to grab a bag.

  “Thank you.” Sweat dotted Elise’s brow, and she loosened her sweater with the hand Jil had freed from a grocery bag. “It’s warm out today. Have you girls been outside?”

  “No, not yet.” Gigi emerged from the bathroom. “We’re thinking of heading to the zoo.”

  Elise smiled. “Have they still got the elephants?”

  Jil nodded. “Five of them. They’re building a bigger enclosure.”

  “That’s what we’ve been watching.”

  Elise’s glance dropped to Jil’s hand. Jil looked down and swallowed hard.

  She didn’t say a word, but the look that crossed her face seared Jil more than anything she might have said.

  “I’ll meet you outside,” she said to Gigi.

  Gigi nodded and dashed out the door.

  Slowly, Jil removed the ring and handed it to Elise.

  Later, when Jil went back to the fish, the key had been moved.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Jil woke up, remembering that day like it had just happened. The cold fish mouth against her hand. The missing key.

  The ring on her finger—solid and heavy.

  It had only been a dream. So why did it feel so important?

  Jess lay sleeping, the early morning sun lighting the blond hair that fell across her forehead. Jil turned over and stared at the ceiling.

  This wasn’t solved.

  She wasn’t satisfied.

  If that brooch had been meant to keep Duncan away from Mila, then where was it? She closed her eyes, trying to get back inside her dream.

  The staircase. The crack in the side.

  She opened her eyes.

  Was she imagining it, or remembering?

  Elise’s face when she saw Jil with the ring on her finger—surprise, disappointment, but also…fear? Was she afraid of what Jil had seen?

  She sat up. That crack in the staircase had been there—in reality, not just in her dream. And she suddenly knew why Elise had left her that ring specifically—yes, in part to say she forgave her for trespassing, but also to remind her of what Elise knew she must have seen that day.

  She crept out of the room and tiptoed downstairs. Zeus bounced up from his spot in the living room and stared at her, his head cocked to one side.

  “In a minute, buddy.”

  She reached into the fish head.

  The key was back.

  She drew it out and stared at it for a long moment. The door to Elise’s library hadn’t been locked in years, but it had to—it must—open something else.

  In the library, she studied the staircase from every angle. The wrought iron railing, the polished wooden steps—and the intricate paneling making one impressive column up to the loft. Jil approached the left side first, her face inches from the wood panels. Something here had to give.

  But what?

  She squinted into each corner, pressed her fingers along each seam. Then she knocked along the bottom.

  There. A hollow thud. Just like in the window seat above. Only this thud sounded much deeper. The space under the stairs would be big. She slid her curved fingers down the hollow panel. There. A thumbhole. She lifted it and a small two-by-two inch piece of paneling came away, revealing a key hole.

  “Of course.” She couldn’t help smiling. Elise’s memories were fading already, but her love of treasure and treasure hunting would stay with her forever.

  She fit the key into the tiny keyhole.

  It turned.

  As she stood, stunned, the entire panel opened outward—a small door. This is what she had seen reflected in the mirror that day—almost shut, but not quite back in place. She examined the hinges on the inside

  Who had built this? And when?

  Holding her breath, she stepped inside. She could stand upright with both arms extended. The space was approximately the size of Elise’s walk-in closet.

  “Are there any more rabbit holes in this house you’d like to tell me about?” she muttered to the air.

  She searched for a light and found a switch by the small doorway. When she flicked it on, she sighed, partly in disappointment and partly in relief. The room was empty.

  But what had Elise kept in here? Maybe nothing. Could it have been a panic room? A storage area?

  She reached out to touch the walls. A quilted material lined the space from floor to low ceiling. She’d only seen padding like this used for one reason: to protect paintings.

  Along the farthest side of the room sat a drafting table. Smudges of paint covered the surface and the walls nearby.

  Her heart sped up. Could this be where Elise had worked?

  She edged over to the table and picked up a thick red folder. When she opened it, a sheet of paper fell onto the floor. She bent to pick it up, recognizing it as a list of reference material—newspaper articles, it looked like, complete with volume numbers. She’d lived with Elise long enough to know that these volume numbers must refer to the ledgers she’d had made of her newspaper collections.

  Jil put down the list on the table and flipped through the folder. Clippings. A few photographs. And another key.

  Her eyes widened as she realized what she was holding. A stack of articles about art crimes, beginning with the 1975 theft of Evening River Seine. Elise had left her a reference list of confessions. A history of her other life.

  She breathed out slowly, her hand shaking. Now that she had it, she wasn’t sure she wanted to look.

  The doorbell rang and she jumped. Before hurrying out, she slammed the door to the secret room shut. She’d have to look through the rest of this later. In secret. And then burn it.

  She saw Nic Fraser’s outline through the glass and wrenched open the door.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Jil glared at him.

  “Are you always this hostile after peopl
e see you in your underwear?”

  “Stay out of my way today, Nic.”

  He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It would be easier if you’d let me help you.”

  “I think you’ve helped enough, thanks. Hard to see what more you could do after having me arrested for murder. A charge I still haven’t been cleared of, by the way.”

  He spun her around. “Listen, I need to tell you something.”

  “I don’t want to hear it. I can’t take anymore bullshit, Nic.”

  He shook his head. “Just do me a favor, okay?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “No matter what you hear today, no matter what happens—don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Thanks for stopping by.”

  He made an exasperated noise and left. She slammed the door behind him.

  Half an hour later, a message from Morgan lit up her screen. St. Clair got the arrest warrant for Fraser. Call me as soon as you can.

  Her heart stopped.

  Is that why he’d come over? To tell her St. Clair had actually gotten him a warrant to arrest her? What evidence could they possibly have?

  No way she planned to be detained today. Not when she felt so close to finding out the truth.

  Don’t leave town, St. Clair had said. Well, she was about to engage in some civil disobedience.

  Padraig had a hell of a lot of explaining to do.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Jil pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater, yanked on mismatched socks, and grabbed two spare outfits out of the closet. She looked at Elise’s travel bag and decided to borrow it. Then again, what if it was lined with rubies or something?

  “Do you have your passport?” Jess swiped hair out of her face.

  “Yes, right here.” She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d used it.

  To her credit, Jess didn’t ask how long she was going, or why.

  “I’ll stay here with Zeus,” she said before Jil could even ask.

  She stopped long enough to kiss Jess good-bye. Properly. Then she grabbed her gear and got in the taxi.

  How far had they gone? Had they suspended her passport? Would they be waiting for her at the airport?