“He has the sex tape. He threatened to make it public.”
Darius’s expression went stony, and I wasn’t sure what triggered his disapproval. “And why not send the painting to him or leave it someplace he’ll be certain to find it?”
I shot him a look. “You clearly don’t have enough experience thinking like a criminal. There’s no way to send it that doesn’t include a trail leading right back to us. The minute we add someone else into the mix, we expose ourselves to greed or fear or whatever means he uses to compel people. And leaving it someplace is too risky. There are too many unknown variables, and I don’t want my sister in his crosshairs if he doesn’t get it back.”
“So you believe he knew the Manet was behind you mother’s painting?” Darius asked. I tried not to find too much pleasure in the fact that he admitted the painting I’d taken belonged to my mom.
I inhaled. “We found a message. It was hidden behind the stretcher on the back of the painting my aunt did of me and Colette. Apparently, Markham was the mastermind for the whole Gardner heist, and he planned it for the night the Manet was in the annex for restoration. His plan was to switch my mom’s copy of the Manet with the real one so he could steal it for himself without the head honchos knowing. It was my aunt’s job to finish the edges to match the original and swap the canvases. According to her message, she finished the edges but she didn’t make the switch. Markham thinks she did, and it made her complicit enough that he figured he didn’t have to worry about her turning him in. But now that she’s gone, if he realizes Alex duped him, and then connects Colette to Alex’s family, we’re all at risk.”
Darius huffed in surprise. “Alexandra Kiriakis certainly played a long game, didn’t she?”
“I have no idea. I never got to meet her.”
A hint of sympathy came into his eyes. “I’m sorry. She was your aunt, even though she left your family thirty years ago.”
“She left to protect her family. She made a mistake, and then moved away to keep the mistake from hurting my mom.” I was getting defensive, so I took a breath and sat back.
“And now you find yourself in a similar position,” he said quietly.
I regarded him for a long moment as I tried to control the pounding of my heart. This was why we weren’t possible in his mind – he saw my theft of my mom’s painting as my mistake.
“It wasn’t a mistake to take that painting.” My words hung in the air between us until they crumbled into dust and drifted away. Our eyes held until I finally spoke again. “I need to know how to disable the alarm on the frame so I can remove the old stretcher.”
He looked away then, as though my words hurt him. “I can’t help you, Anna.”
I nodded, exhaled, and stood up. “I think I knew you’d say that, but I had to try.”
He stood and walked me to the door, where I stopped to face him. “You’ll do what you need to do.” I went up on my toes to kiss his cheek. “Goodbye, Darius.”
I didn’t look back to see whether he watched me walk away.
40
Anna
“Friendship is so weird. You just pick a human you’ve met and you’re like, ‘Yep, I like this one,’ and then you do stuff with them.”
Anna Collins
I flew to New Mexico for a fugitive recovery, and the local sheriff who took custody of Madge when I brought her in was exceptionally helpful in pointing out how easily my license could be taken away if I put one foot out of line. I guessed he wasn’t excited about the fact that it took me eight hours to find a woman they hadn’t found in eight months.
But I was in a crappy mood after that, because he wasn’t wrong. The bail bondsman and bounty hunting licenses I’d collected from various states were pretty heavily regulated – for good reason. Nobody wanted the guy, or gal, with the propensity for law-breaking and violence to have arresting rights. Until recently, my propensity for law-breaking had been entirely theoretical. If I was even charged with a crime, I’d lose my licenses in at least five states, and my reputation would be severely damaged in the others. Despite the fact that I’d basically fallen into bounty hunting as a profession, I liked what I did, I was good at it, and I didn’t want to lose my options to do it.
I made it back to town in time for Dungeons & Dragons at Sparky’s loft and went early because I was sick of my own company.
“Anna-banana!” Sparky said when I lifted the freight elevator gate.
“Hey, Spark.” My brain fatigue must have been audible, because he did a double-take.
“You sound like you just found out the Easter Bunny is a lie.”
“My mom believed that culturally acceptable lies are still lies, so she always said she believed in the magic of Easter and Christmas, and how sad for anyone who didn’t. Technically, the Easter Bunny is magic,” I said.
“Dude, your tone of voice lacks the inflection appropriate to the message delivered. What’s up?”
I sighed. I really did love Sparky for being such a bro. “I have to figure out how to extract a wooden frame from a bigger one that’s wired to a wall, and do it without getting caught.”
He scowled. “That’s not hard, but the not getting caught part sounds like maybe it’s something you shouldn’t be doing?”
I sighed again like a moody teenager. “I think my filter has finally completely broken. I think not being able to lie to a guy I like broke my filter, and now I can do nothing but tell the truth to anyone who asks.”
He lit up like a neon sign. “Really? Can I try it?”
I scoffed. “Go ahead. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Okay, what’s the worst that could happen?” he echoed.
Jerk. I narrowed my eyes at him. “The worst that could happen is nuclear holocaust, or barring that, a meteorite strike like the one in The Calculating Stars, which is an excellent book, by the way.”
He smirked. “What’s the worst that could happen to you if you get caught.”
I glared a dagger through his heart, which he must have felt, because his grin faltered slightly. “If I get caught, I lose my licenses, might go to jail, my sister’s naked ass gets plastered on billboards all over the city, and the bad guy wins.”
Sparky alternately scowled, smiled, and scowled again at my list. “And if you don’t do the thing at all?”
“The last two,” I said glumly.
Sparky raised an eyebrow. “While I’ll admit to being more than a little intrigued at both the news of a sister and the threat of her naked ass, unless it’s the middle of a trilogy, the bad guy doesn’t get to win.”
“As far as I know, I only get the one shot at this life, so no, not a trilogy.”
Sparky stood and began rummaging in his workshop. “Alrighty then, describe what you need to do exactly.”
By the time Taylor and Ashley wandered in with Ashley’s newest recipe for sparkly rainbow unicorn cupcakes, Sparky had designed the perfect tool for the break-up and extraction of the stretcher I’d left behind in the frame in Gray’s panic room. And when Shane got there with homemade hummus and flatbread, he’d sketched the parts for a new, portable frame that could be assembled on the spot, which he would 3D print for me in the morning.
I kissed his cheek with the enthusiasm of a much-improved mood. “Thank you! I’ll see what I can do about a picture of my sister’s best side for you.”
He grinned, and Shane raised her eyebrows at us, not having been privy to our earlier conversation. “Your twin sister?”
Now Sparky gaped at me. “Like, identical twin?”
“Shhh, pretend you didn’t hear that,” I said, putting a finger to his mouth in a distracting, nonsensical gesture. Then I turned to growl at Shane, though my mood was too good to put any teeth behind it.
“Thank you for that. I don’t need to figure into any twin fantasies.”
“Twin fantasies,” Sparky said in a dreamy voice, which ended in a bark of indignation when my elbow caught him in the stomach.
“Taylor,�
�� I began, in a desperate bid to change the subject, “thank you for the intro to D in Boston. He had some great information on the Gardner heist, and I really appreciated the time he took to meet with us.”
“Oh yeah,” Taylor said, “D said to tell you thanks too. The guy you connected him with came through with the name of a guard who wasn’t working the night of the heist but knows something he apparently needs witness protection to share. D’s tracking that down for an article on the thirtieth anniversary.”
“Cool. He must have done something nice for Junior’s mom to get that much from him.”
Taylor grinned. “D can be a charming guy when he isn’t playing a crusty old reporter.”
“What does the Gardner heist have to do with the case you were in Boston to do?” Ashley asked.
So, I told them, minus the bits about The Sisters painting, the Manet, and Markham Gray, because apparently I could still omit, I just couldn’t lie. The conversation was almost more fun than the D&D game was because no one else had even heard of the heist, and at some point during the evening, everyone’s phone came out to check a fact or look at a photo. It was heady stuff to be the expert in the room.
Shane fell into step with me as we all dispersed for the night. “So, I’ve been trying this new thing called being friends with women. I’m pretty sure I still suck at it, and I’m definitely awkward as hell, but if it wouldn’t be too weird, would you mind being one of my guinea pigs?”
“If I get to be the really cute, super soft kind and run on the wheel, I’ll happily be your guinea pig. I have to warn you though, my filter is broken, and I have very little impulse control when there are inappropriate things to be said.”
She laughed, then saluted me. “Noted,” she said before turning down a different street. “See you next Tuesday.”
“D&D’s not Tues— ohhhhh, I see what you did there. C U Next Tuesday. Ha! You can’t make me say the word just because it’s the only thing my brain can hear now. GAH!” I yelled at her as she walked away laughing. “How about Tuesday, Wednesday, And Thursday?”
“Oh, well done!” she called into the night.
Sometimes adolescent humor really was called for, especially between new friends.
41
Darius
“Security is mostly a superstition. Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.”
Helen Keller
“Thank you for allowing me to come,” I said to Sterling Gray as I followed him inside the Gray mansion.
“I still don’t understand what it is you need to do, but I do agree that it’s easier if you just show me.” Sterling was no more or less friendly than he had always been to me, but his whole manner seemed tense, as though he were waiting for news that he expected would be bad.
“Your security system was set up,” I said, leading him to the control panel in the kitchen, “with Cipher Security as the administrator, so that we could make any adjustments or repairs that you determined you needed once you’d lived with the system for several months.”
I punched in our admin code, cleared it, then stepped back to give Sterling access. “There, our code has been removed from this panel. I still need to do the main computer in the panic room, so I’ll get on that while you add a seven digit code to this panel to make yourself the controlling administrator. Please try not to repeat numbers or use any obvious ones like phone numbers, social security numbers, or dates of birth. I’ll show myself up and leave you to it.”
As nearly everyone did, in my experience, when given no warning and those instructions, Sterling stared at the panel for a long moment while trying to work out which code he would be able to remember. I probably had five minutes alone to examine the system I’d set up before he was by my side again.
I took the back stairs two at a time and noted that the cameras in the hall had been replaced with thermal imaging devices. Interesting. Also, Moby Dick was no longer the book pull for opening the panic room door, though before I could try all the other books, Sterling’s voice came from the back stairs.
“We’ve had the access changed. If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll let you in.”
I sighed, then turned to face him. “Of course. May I ask who did the work?”
“McCallum. He didn’t check the admin code though. I’ll have to talk to him about that.” He stepped between me and the bookcase and looked over his shoulder at me. “Do you mind?”
So now we were not to be trusted. In that case, I needed to pay close attention. “Not at all,” I said as I turned my back to him.
There was no sound of a book being pulled, nor any indication that Sterling reached or ducked down to press a button. There was an audible click, which to my mind was just sloppy because it meant that the tumblers were under stress from the latch placement.
I turned to see the panic room looking exactly the same as the last time I’d seen it, even down to the cat that marched in past our legs, his tail high in the air.
Sterling looked grimly at the empty picture frame on the wall. “He keeps it there as a daily reminder of my failure, and until I get the painting back, that’s the sum total of who I am to him.”
As far as I could tell, the frame hadn’t been moved. “If and when you’re ready to remove it, I’ll come and detach the wiring,” I said as I woke the computer from its slumber.
Sterling scoffed. “That won’t happen. It’s like he expects the painting to magically re-appear in its frame, as if it were all just a horrible mistake.”
There was that word again: mistake. Was it a mistake that Anna had taken her mother’s painting back from the man who had hidden it away? Did calling it that diminish her active planning and execution of a theft so clever that there was still no physical proof that she’d done it?
I pulled up the camera array and saw that two additional cameras had been installed outside, and another one on the landing where Anna had entered the building. A quick check of the logged footage showed that it had recently been copied to an external drive, and the thermal imaging in the hall was functional from all angles.
I exhaled. “Everything appears to be in order,” I said as I navigated to the admin control panel and removed Cipher’s passcode. I stepped back for Sterling to add his own. “I recommend a different code for this part of the system, but not a sequential one to the alarm panel. Unless you have any further questions, I’ll leave you to your day.”
I stooped to pet the cat and noted the new plaster patch on the inside of the bookcase door, then I went down the main staircase, noting that the original motion sensors, which were wired to the external alarm system, had not been replaced with cameras. The first floor windows and doors were, I knew, state of the art and therefore impregnable to the solo thief who didn’t wield an excavator or a battering ram.
I let myself out of the Gray mansion with a sense of calm I hadn’t felt for the past week and nearly collided with Colette Collins as she walked up to the door. She looked as startled to see me as I was to see her.
“Hello, Colette.”
“You’re Cipher man,” she said accusingly.
The name earned her a wry smile. “I am.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Don’t you dare hurt my sister.”
Too late. “Your loyalty to your family is a trait you both share. She has assured me that eyeballs would be removed from sockets with dirty fingernails if you were hurt.”
Colette’s eyes shifted to the house and back to me so fast I’m sure she thought I wouldn’t notice, but I did, and I felt compelled to deliver a warning on her sister’s behalf. “His fixation seems to be on returning to his father’s good graces, and little else seems to be a priority.”
Her voice cooled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I stepped closer, as if to move past her, and murmured, “Please be careful, for Anna’s sake.”
She looked up at me, startled, and a slow smile twitched the corners of her mouth up. “That’s how we roll.”
> 42
Anna
“If I tell you, then I get to kiss you,”
From the T-shirt collection of Anna Collins
I’d been surprised to get a text from Shane so soon after our D&D game, and even more surprised to find her sitting at the café with Darius. It was the kind of place that had one big, long farmhouse table in the middle, with a few four-top tables scattered around. They were seated across from each other at one end of the big table, and Shane waved me over to sit next to her.
“Hey,” she said cheerily, “sit here. We’re just finishing up and then let’s order.”
Darius didn’t say anything, he just smiled.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “I don’t want to interrupt.”
“I’m sure,” Shane said, and there was a definite finality to her tone.
I sat on the bench next to her, and she turned back to Darius. “So tell me again what, exactly, to update on the Gray file before I close it?”
My attention sharpened to a razor’s edge as he answered. “As I said, McCallum added two more exterior cameras to the south side of the house – one at the door, and one aimed at the small balcony on the second floor. He also changed the cameras in the second floor hall to a thermal surveillance system and added an additional one on the landing near the balcony window.”
I stared at Darius in shock. What the hell was he doing?
“Interestingly,” he continued, ignoring my eyeballs, which had doubled in size, “the motion sensors I originally set into the bannister of the main staircase, two inches above every third step, beginning with the first one and continuing up to the top floor, have not been replaced or augmented with cameras. They remain tied to the off-site alarm system, as do all the ground floor windows and doors.”
He was giving me the security plans to Gray’s mansion, disguised as an update to a closed client file, which allowed him to keep his professional integrity and still help me. I could have leapt across the table and kissed him, except I wasn’t actually sure if it would be welcome or for that matter, if my eyeballs, which were still inflated like balloons, could survive the impact.
Code of Honor Page 25