Chapter 35

I made it down to the banquet hall before Frances made it to Bennett’s side. “Liza,” I said with feigned affection. “Let’s find a quiet spot to talk.”

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Where did you come from?”

“This is important.” I kept a party-appropriate smile on my face as I steered my sister toward the exit door. Frances hurried over, but I waved her back. “Ladies’ room,” I said, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. “Be right back.”

Liza moved with uncertain stiffness but didn’t fight. “Where are we going?”

I knew I had to keep her soothed until we were safely out of sight. “There’s an office upstairs specifically set aside for confidential business transactions. It seems as though you’ve been invited.”

“Wait,” she said. “How did you know? You’ve been listening?”

“Yes.” No need to deny at this point.

“How does Bennett know what I have to sell? I didn’t get a chance to show it to him.”

“If it’s what I think it is, he’s been looking for it for some time.”

“So it is valuable?” she asked. “Do you have any idea how much I might get for it?”

I wanted to answer, “Fifteen to twenty years,” but I held my tongue. My sister clearly didn’t know what she was holding. “No idea.”

We stepped through a door separating the public areas from the private, where we traversed a short hallway that opened to a staircase. As I’d expected, just inside, McClowery and two agents waited for us. “Hand it over, Ms. Wheaton,” McClowery said.

Liza paled. Her eyes were wild things. Her breath came shallow and fast as understanding dawned. She wrapped her arms around herself, pulling her purse close.

I stepped away as McClowery and two female agents took over. One of the women pried the purse out of Liza’s hands and drew out an opaque plastic bag. Its contents clanked like heavy jewelry.

My sister sank to the ground to sit cross-legged, head in her hands.

The first agent upended the bag into McClowery’s cupped palms. “These are even more beautiful than the photos.” He allowed himself two seconds of appreciation before resuming his angry agent persona. “Handcuff her,” he ordered the women. “Take her upstairs while I try to figure out if there’s any way to salvage this mess.”

“You lied to me.” Sobs strangled Liza’s words as she was tugged to her feet. Her eyes shimmered red; black rivers of mascara streaked her hot cheeks. “Why are you doing this to me?”

I didn’t answer.

We were far enough from the festivities to be unconcerned about Liza’s wails. I waited until the three women were up the stairs and out of sight to address McClowery, “What happens now?”

With both hands on his forehead and his eyes closed, the agent shook his head. “She had them the whole time.” Opening his eyes, he flung one hand up in frustration. “She’s no good to us.”

“But at least you have three of the pieces.”

“Without the other five, these are useless,” he said. “The pieces were never as important as uncovering the organization behind the theft. Now we may never find Mr. X. We needed Eric to make contact tonight. We needed to get him to spill. And we would have. I know it.”

“He may still show up,” I said even though I didn’t believe it. It was obvious McClowery didn’t, either. “You never know.”

“Or, we can start all over again. Take another decade to find and target another weaselly con artist, get that person to infiltrate one of the toughest black market art crime organizations in the country, and hope that, this time, the whole thing doesn’t blow up in our faces.” He glared at me before starting up the stairs. “Sure. Why not?”

The party was scheduled to continue for another hour, but the mood in the control room had changed. Everything from the agents’ postures to their surly attitudes told me that McClowery wasn’t the only one feeling the heat from this debacle, but he was the only one to voice it. “We’ve lost this one, boys and girls. Let’s pack it in.”

“You’ll be able to use the three pieces to flush out Mr. X, eventually though, right?” I asked. “There’s nothing to say that you won’t apprehend Eric at some point.”

“Do you have any idea how much effort or how many personnel hours it takes to set up an operation this intricate? No, of course you don’t.” McClowery massaged his forehead. “You may go now,” he said. “Your assistance is no longer required.”

Days ago, I’d asked McClowery if Liza might have possession of the pieces, but he’d assured me that was impossible. I felt like reminding him, but decided against it as I grabbed my purse from the corner of the control room and prepared to leave.

“Good luck,” I said.

He didn’t respond.

Liza was being detained in the hallway outside the control room. Perched in a hard chair with her hands cuffed behind her, she was flanked by the two agents who’d met us in the stairwell.

Liza glanced up, then returned to staring at the floor. “I’m your sister, you know,” she said in a steely voice. “You’re supposed to have my back, not stab me in it.”

I started to reply that she’d done this to herself, but knew my words would be wasted. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“I thought I could trust you. I thought I could trust Bennett.”

“By offering him stolen goods?”

Her attention snapped up at that. “I didn’t know they were stolen.”

“You took them from Eric.”

“You know what I mean—really stolen. I only did it to hurt him—before he dumped me for that horsey-looking Nina. How was I supposed to know that those three gold chunks were so important? I didn’t. Not until everybody started showing up here looking for him.” She sucked in her cheeks. Her stare was hard yet broken at the same time. “I thought that if I waited him out, he’d give up. All I wanted to do was teach him a lesson.”

“You don’t realize it now, Liza, but you got lucky.”

She snorted.

“Eric isn’t in hiding from just the FBI. He’s in hiding from the dealer he double-crossed. That dealer killed at least one person already. You’re lucky they didn’t find you.”

“If the FBI knows all this, why don’t they do something about it?”

“That’s what tonight’s reception was all about. They were hoping to nab Eric and get him to roll over on his former boss.”

“You mean all this was just to bait Eric?” she asked, using her chin to indicate the banquet hall below. “That seems like a lot of effort.”

“Whoever he double-crossed might be here tonight as well.”

“But the FBI has no idea who Eric was working for?”

I shook my head.

“It could be anybody?”

“Yeah,” I said. “It could.”

Her brows came together and her lips pursed. “A lot of people talked about that missing jeweled key tonight.”

“You should tell McClowery.”

“Should I tell him who seemed interested in the three missing pieces?”

“You didn’t tell anyone you had them, did you?”

“Of course not,” she said. “But I may have hinted that I knew where they were.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed my forehead. “Who did you tell?”

“A few people.” She shrugged. “Can’t remember their names.”

“Do yourself a favor and try to remember exactly who you spoke with and what they had to say. Then, when McClowery questions you, tell him everything. You got it?”

“You think I can use it as a bargaining chip? Maybe get off with a slap on the wrist?”

I doubted it. “It’s worth a try.”

Behind me, the control room door opened. “Ms. Wheaton?”

I turned to see one of McClowery’s subordinates hurrying over, his hand extended. “Is this your phone? We noticed it on the floor after you left.”

“Thanks,” I said, accepting the device from him. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he said. “And don’t worry about McClowery. He gets like this when things go wrong. Fortunately for us, that isn’t often.”

I hadn’t been worried, but thanked the young man for his assurances just the same. When he returned to the control room, I turned my phone’s ringer back on. I’d switched it to silent shortly before the reception began. My phone’s display lit up and I gave it an absentminded glance. Two missed calls. Five text messages.

“Have a nice life,” Liza said. “Make sure you tell Aunt Belinda where to write me.”

There was nothing to say that would make things better between us, so I opted to remain silent. Walking away, I tapped in my phone’s security code and pulled up its phone log. Ronny Tooney had called twice and left two messages on voicemail in the past three minutes. Before calling him back, I checked my texts. All five from Tooney and all variations of the same theme: Call me ASAP.

I stopped to dial his number, relieved when he picked up immediately. “What’s going on?”

“Did you listen to my messages?”

“No. What happened?”

He took a deep breath, then spoke very slowly. “Flynn and Rodriguez are at your house. There’s been a break-in.”

I gasped.

“It’s okay, Grace. They got the intruders. It was your buddy Eric and his girlfriend. They’re in custody. I wanted you to know right away. Plus I didn’t want you to panic if you came home while all the police cars were still here.”

Panic? I was thrilled. “This is great news, Tooney.”

“It is?”

“Absolutely.” I pivoted, heading back to the control room. “Tell Rodriguez and Flynn that, under no circumstances should they let Eric go free. Can you do that?”

“There’s no chance, Grace. They caught the two of them ransacking your house. They got ’em solid.”

“Still, promise me you’ll give them the message.”

“You got it,” he said. “They’re taking off in a minute. I’ll catch them before they leave.”

“Thanks, Tooney. You’re a gem.”

Liza had been listening in and now she sat up straighter. “What happened?” she asked. “Who found Eric? What’s going on?”

I threw open the door to the control room. “McClowery.” He was working closely with an agent in the far corner, but looked up at my shout. I held my phone aloft. “Eric has been arrested. He’s in custody right now.”

McClowery’s annoyance morphed into exuberance by the time I crossed the room. “What happened?” he asked.

“Eric got caught breaking into my house,” I said. “That’s all I know.”

McClowery tagged the young man who’d brought me my phone. “Take over here, Wilson. I’ll be back.”