by Lila Dubois
“What? Are you serious?” Eli asked.
“Are you saying you think marriage should only be between hetero couples, you gender-norming troglodyte?”
“What?” Eli’s voice was loud enough to have people looking over.
Irina faked a laugh, throwing her head back to show off the line of her throat, tapping Eli on the chest with her palm. She finished the laugh and turned her face toward Eli’s chest, hiding her mouth.
“Jasper, knock it off. The vein in Eli’s temple is going to pop.”
“Fine, but we’re having this conversation later.”
“Of course,” Irina soothed.
Eli raised his hand and thumped himself on the forehead with the heel of his palm. It was either that or start bashing his head against the wall.
Irina bit back a smile and pulled his hand down. She rubbed his forehead and winked at him.
“Eli?” Aliza called them over. The hip-looking man from downstairs who’d taken Eli’s credit card was standing with the dean.
“One of our faculty members had a question about the pieces,” Aliza said.
Eli took the program out of his pocket. “There’s a Rodin sculpture listed in the program, but I don’t see it on display.”
The event planner pursed his lips. “The owner chose not to display some of the pieces.”
“But the Rodin is in the program,” Eli said.
“I’m well aware of that, but they made the request this morning, and we were unable to reprint the programs in time to reflect the changes.” The man was speaking through gritted teeth.
“Well, that’s disappointing. Did they say why?” Aliza asked.
“No, they didn’t. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to check on the bar.”
“Wait.” Eli caught the man’s arm. “I need the owner’s name.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t give that information out.”
Eli looked at the dean. “Aliza?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know who the owners are. These events are organized entirely by the event company, along with the university advancement. Someone in development may know.”
“Anonymity was a condition of the exhibition agreement. If you’ll excuse me.” The clearly irritated and stressed man pulled away.
Aliza frowned. “Email my assistant. She can connect you with our contact in advancement. If you really want to see the piece, maybe they’ll be able to arrange something.” Aliza patted Eli’s forearm. “And while you do that, get on my calendar. We’ll have you two over for dinner.” She turned to talk to someone hovering at her elbow, waiting anxiously to speak to her.
Eli and Irina made their way to a bare stretch of exterior wall. Eli set his drink on the windowsill then rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Irina.” Jasper’s voice was low and intense.
“I’m looking. I don’t see anything, and how could they…” Irina’s tone matched his. She trailed off, frowning.
“What?” Eli asked, alarm bells beginning to ring. Clearly he was late to that party, because Irina and Jasper had gone into crisis mode, and he had no idea why.
Irina had her back against the wall and was scanning the crowd.
“I’ve had a bad feeling for the past hour.” Eli mimicked her posture. “I thought it was just me.”
“This went from slightly concerning to a potential problem, so your gut was right,” Jasper said. “I’m packing up. I’m coming to you.”
“Why?” Eli asked. “What am I missing?”
“This unidentified private owner pulled art on the morning of an event. They wouldn’t do that without a reason.” Irina stopped scanning the crowd and looked at Eli. “When you RSVP’d, did you say anything? Mention the Rodin?”
Eli shook his head. “No, I just…I said I was interested in seeing the private collection. That’s it.”
“If they’re paranoid, really paranoid, that might be enough. Especially if you’re known for not attending things like this.” There was background noise coming through the headset, along with Jasper’s voice.
“You broke your behavior pattern.” Irina adjusted the shawl he’d given her, looping it over her elbows then knotting the ends together behind her back so she didn’t have to hold on to it. “I would be concerned, from a security standpoint.”
“You’re kidding. I’m just some random art history professor.”
“And if you owned stolen art that you were planning to display, who would you be worried about?” Jasper was breathing heavily, and it sounded like he was running.
The fact that Jasper was running took Eli’s alarm up several levels. “I’d be worried about…about anyone who might question the provenance of the pieces.”
“Like an art history professor who specializes in the role of art in war.”
“They had an alert set up, in case any art history people showed up?” Eli started looking around. “That can’t be right. I’m sure there are other people from my department here.”
“That’s a question we need to answer, because the other possibility is that someone knows who you are…knows what you’re a member of.” Irina’s words were calm, and she was smiling, but her eyes were tight.
Eli closed his eyes, exhaled, then opened his eyes again. “Let’s just go. We’ll walk out of here. You have the car keys. We’ll go back to my place.”
“Agreed that we should leave, but we’re not going back to your place. We’ll need to go to a hotel.”
Eli’s stomach clenched. “Is the situation really that bad?”
“I don’t know, but safety requires extraordinary precaution.” Irina turned to Eli. “In case anyone is watching, let’s give them a hint about why we’re leaving.” She smiled at him and raised one brow.
Eli blinked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Kiss her, you idiot,” Jasper whispered.
“Uh, yeah. I can do that.”
“I hope so, you chucklehead.” The Boston accent was back in Jasper’s voice, despite the fact that he was whispering.
Eli grabbed Irina, jerked her against him, and kissed her. She tasted like champagne, and smelled amazing. He had to bend to reach her lips, but when she stood up on her tiptoes, clinging to his shoulders, Eli was able to straighten enough to pull her body flush against his.
Irina broke the kiss. The way she looked up at him, eyes liquid pools of desire, her lips flushed and parted, made Eli want to push her against the wall and rip that dress right down the middle.
“Time to go,” she whispered.
Eli nodded, but held her against his chest for another minute, giving himself time to settle down.
When he wouldn’t embarrass himself, Eli offered her his arm. They were waiting for the elevator when Max ran over.
“Professor Wexler!”
“Hi, Max.”
“I know where it is!”
Eli froze, turning his full attention to the girl. She dropped her gaze to his feet and fiddled with her earrings.
“You know where the Rodin sculpture is?”
“Yeah, I mean yes. It’s on the first floor. That’s where all the boxes and stuff for the rest of the art are. One of the event people I asked said that there were some pieces they hadn’t unpacked, including one sculpture. That must be your Rodin, right?”
Eli grinned. “That’s great, Max, thank—”
Irina cut in. “Who did you ask?”
In his ear, Jasper said, “Still boxed up. Copy.”
“Uh, a couple of different people?” Max looked aghast at Irina’s harsh tone.
“Where are you from, Maxine?” Irina asked.
“Seattle.”
“Go downstairs, order a car, and go to the airport. Get on the first flight home. Say it was a family emergency.”
“What? No. Why?”
“Because you may have put yourself in danger by asking about that sculpture.”
Max’s eyes widened. Eli’s blood ran cold. Had they put this kid in harm’s way?
Irina o
pened her clutch, pulled out some cash, and handed it to Max. “Use this. Go.”
“Who are you?” she asked.
“It’s safer that you don’t know. Stay in Seattle for a week. Do you know anyone else at the party?”
“My roommate…”
“Go get her. Tell her there’s a family emergency and you want her to come with you to the airport. Stay by her side. Walk out with her. You go together in the car. You keep your phone in your hand, not in your pocket. You ask her to wait with you at the airport. If you can’t get a flight out tonight, you stay in the airport. Do you understand?”
“Is this real? Are you serious?” Max looked at Eli.
Eli nodded. “I’m so sorry, Max. I shouldn’t have told you what I was looking for. Do what she says.”
“I…okay. I’ll do it.”
“Go find your roommate.” Irina pointed into the crowd and Max stumbled away, looking both terrified and excited.
“Irina, if that kid gets hurt because of me…”
“I’m sure she’s going to be fine, but I like to cover all contingencies. The real question is—” Irina stabbed the down arrow. “Jasper, where are you?”
There was no answer.
“Shit.” When the elevator door dinged open, Irina dragged Eli in. “Jasper, where are you?”
Chapter Five
Somebody has something to hide.
Jasper lowered the binoculars, scanned the alley, then went back to studying the security cameras covering the back door of the warehouse where Eli and Irina were. There were two cameras. One was a larger, industrial-looking piece of equipment. It had a long, tan, cylindrical body and was aimed to cover the alley. The second was a compact black camera with a 360-degree swivel, mounted on the doorframe. The wiring for that camera straggled along the brick, seemingly taped into place.
A secondary camera setup meant private security. The black camera was temporary, brought in by whoever was handling security for the event, the art, or both.
Jasper was crouched by a window in the stairwell of the residential building directly behind the event space. It too had once been a warehouse, but had been converted into condos. They’d stripped out the warehouse infrastructure, but kept the double-story windows. The stairwell gave him access to one of these windows, which meant a perfect—if not exactly private—vantage point for a little recon.
There was an elevator in the lobby, and Jasper was betting most residents would use that instead of the stairs. Just to be safe, he was keeping his voice to a whisper, since concrete, brick, and glass weren’t known to muffle sounds.
Unlike Eli and Irina, he wasn’t using an in-ear receiver/transmitter. He’d gone for normal bud-style headphones, which made it look like he was on the phone. That had saved him from having to hide the fact that he was talking while he’d been sitting in the diner. Not that sitting in a diner for hours, ordering odd vegan versions of comfort food while on what probably seemed like the world’s longest phone call, wasn’t odd. It was. But it wasn’t call-the-cops territory.
However, if anyone stumbled across him now, it would be a different story. No one crouched near a window with binoculars to make a phone call. He might as well have a blinking sign over his head that said “nefarious.”
He’d turned down the volume on Eli’s and Irina’s feeds so he could concentrate. When he heard Eli mention “Max,” he turned up the volume. There was no one to see him grin when the girl reported that the sculpture was on the first floor.
“Still boxed up. Copy,” Jasper said.
Time to move.
Slinging his gym bag over his shoulder, Jasper jogged down the stairs and out the lobby door, which some kind person had stupidly propped open.
He pulled the face mask—designed to keep neck and face up to the eye warm in cold weather running—bunched around his neck up over his face. If it had been the dead of winter in Denver, someone jogging in a hood and mask would make sense. At this time of year…not so much, but an active-wear mask was a lot less conspicuous than a full ski mask.
He slid his arms through the straps of his gym bag, which could be worn backpack style. He paused, stretched a bit, jogged in place, then started down the sidewalk. When he reached the corner of the building, he turned into the alley that separated the warehouse and condos. He watched the black camera out of the corner of his eye. It swiveled to follow him.
He kept going, and when he reached the end of the alley he turned left, so he was on the west side of the warehouse. He’d circled the building in his rental car before finding the recon position in the condo, so he knew there were two fire exit doors in the west wall, one atop the other. The staircase for the second-floor door partially obscured the lower door.
Jasper stopped, propped his heel on the fourth step, and leaned over his leg, as if he was working out a cramp. There was a second large camera here, but no smaller black camera.
He changed legs and quickly ran through what he knew.
First, there was someone actively monitoring and manipulating a secondary camera on the back door. Second, there were three doors on the ground level. The first door was the main entrance, covered by event staff and party guests. The door immediately opposite that one had the camera. That left only this emergency exit door.
Either this door didn’t open or was wired to an alarm. Only one way to find out.
Jasper slid up to the door, which was helpfully shadowed by the landing directly overhead. He jumped up, grabbed the landing support and did a few pull-ups, maintaining the guise of slightly-shady-dude-out-exercising for as long as possible.
He dropped down, took off his backpack, and grabbed a small magnetic plate, tucking it into his pocket, then he pulled out a suction cup and shim.
Breaking in was a big gamble, but worth it. If the alarm went off, they’d evacuate the building—they’d have to, for safety purposes, and the chaos might provide a chance for him to sneak in, though the alarm would put the security team on high alert.
If he managed to keep the alarm from going off, he’d have a chance to snoop around.
He was vaguely aware of Irina’s voice coming through the headphones, but his attention was on the door. Like most fire doors, there was no external handle. It was designed to let panicky people out, not nefarious people in. However, the fact that it opened out meant it was vulnerable. There was no doorjamb guarding the vulnerable space between door and frame.
Jasper attached the small suction cup, no bigger than his palm, to the door, then slid the thin, flexible, u-shaped metal shim between door and frame. He wiggled it until he felt the tongue of the lock. Rocking the shim back and forth, he managed to position it so that the ends were sticking out. Grabbing both in one hand, he grabbed the suction cup with the other.
He pulled the metal shim. The bend of the “u” slid along the tongue of the door closure mechanism, retracting it as if the door handle had been pushed.
Leaving the shim in place so the door couldn’t catch again, Jasper took the magnet from his pocket. This was the dangerous part. If this door followed a standard layout, the alarm would be controlled by a magnetic connection in the top corner of the frame. Once the door was opened, and the magnetic connection was broken, the alarm would sound. If he could slap his magnet into place before the broken connection triggered the alarm, he’d have the door open, no alarm. If he couldn’t, or if this particular door had the magnets in a different place, or used a different kind of contact system, such as a laser, the alarm was about to go off and things were about to get tricky.
“Brace yourselves,” he said, sotto voce.
“Why?” Irina asked sharply, her voice a mere thread of sound through his headphones.
“Oh hell,” was Eli’s response.
Grinning despite his irritation at the other man—Jasper couldn’t believe Eli had blurted out that Irina was his fiancée—Jasper started to whistle the tune to “The Gambler.”
“Is that a clue?” Eli demanded. “Know when to fold
‘em?”
“Jasper, we’re on the first floor.” Irina’s voice was controlled but intense. “Do we leave or stay?”
Jasper yanked open the door and slammed the magnet into the top corner of the doorjamb.
He waited one second, two. Nothing happened.
“I’m in,” he whispered.
“In where?” Irina hissed.
Jasper hooked his foot in the backpack straps, kicked it inside, then entered and let the door close behind him. The magnet was just thin enough to allow the door to close. That was what he’d hoped. It meant that if he had to exit at a run, he could leave through this door and the alarm wouldn’t go off.
Irina and Eli were talking, but not to him. It sounded like Irina was being introduced to someone Eli knew. He heard Eli use the word fiancée. Jasper gritted his teeth.
The space on the other side of the door was dark, and felt closed in, as if he’d walked into a closet. He carefully extended his arms. He was in a hallway, narrow enough that he could touch both sides. Fishing through his bag, he found the night-vision monocle by feel and held it up.
There was just enough ambient light that the night-vision device worked.
“I’m going for the Rodin,” he said, hoping they could hear him through the mask. He moved quickly, speed more important than stealth. He reached a T-junction, turned north. Best bet was that the art was stored near the monitored back door, which was on the east side of the north wall.
Drawing a mental map as he went, Jasper was, by his estimation, halfway to the back door when he heard voices. Light seeping from around an ill-fitted door glared white in the night vision, so he tucked the monocle into his bag.
Dropping to his belly, he was able to peer through the gap under the door.
Four feet. Two people. Black tactical pants and combat boots.
Whoa.
Security for an event like this should have been wearing suits and those ugly black shoes bouncers favored, the kind that allowed people to stand for hours. Tactical gear was completely out of character.
Jasper considered his options. He could turn around and go back. He was loath to let a truly beautiful unlawful entry go to waste. It needed some grand larceny to really round out the night.