Aftershocks (27 page)

Well, that wasn’t very reassuring. “So they could fail? We could need help, and you wouldn’t know it?”

Grant picked up one of the strips and studied it. “It’s not likely. I know the designer’s work. He knows what he’s doing.”

“Okay.” Zoe took a deep breath. “Anything else we need to go over?”

They spent a few minutes attaching the devices. Zoe insisted on doing her own, though both Kell and Grant offered. Henricksen wisely gave her instructions and sent her to the bathroom to stick them on. She did the mike first, placing it where her cleavage started so the outline wouldn’t show against her dress. The earpiece made her more nervous. She pictured Henricksen aiming a pair of tweezers at her ear and shuddered. She tipped her head to the side, placed the strip inside the curve of her ear, and pressed the button hard against her skin. When she lifted the paper strip the button stayed, feeling heavy and well stuck. She let out her breath slowly and returned to the main room.

“Ready?” Henricksen glanced around at them all, and when they nodded he flipped a switch on a box that looked an awful lot like a remote control for a model truck. Zoe expected to hear static or hissing or even just the faint electronic hum you don’t notice until it turns off, but nothing happened. Then Grant said, “Cool,” and she jumped at the echo in her ear.

“Fine here,” Kell said, and she heard that in stereo, too.

“Weird,” she contributed, and everyone nodded again.

Henricksen turned off the switch. “Neely and I will be outside,” he said. “As close as we can get.”

“Which isn’t very close,” Grant offered. “There’s no on-street parking, so we’ll be a few blocks away. What’s the range on these?” He tapped his chest.

“A mile,” Henricksen said. “Supposedly.”

“All right, so we’ll be at least that close.” Grant’s mouth quirked. “Best if you don’t get into trouble.”

Zoe kept silent. She didn’t feel that Carling himself was a threat, but saying so would be foolish. Not that she believed in jinxes, but still. And even if he was okay, maybe someone close to him wasn’t.

Kell’s watch beeped. “It’s time.”

Zoe pressed a hand to her fluttering stomach. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Grant took the elevator down first so he could watch them outside. Zoe and Kell stood awkwardly outside the elevator, waiting for the next car.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Of course.” But she found herself unable to look at him and not sure why.

“Zoe.” He waited, and she pressed her lips together and turned to face him.

“What?”

“It’s not going to work like this.”

“I know.”

“What’s wrong?”

She tossed her hands. “I have no idea.” As soon as she said it, though, she did. Grant was listening to them right now. He would hear everything they said and did. And they would be acting like an engaged couple, something that should come naturally, and probably would…if Grant wasn’t listening.

She couldn’t admit that to Kell. Last night’s honesty had been painful enough. Plus—Grant was listening.

Which meant she’d better get over herself.

She drew in a deep breath. “I’m okay.” Reaching out, she threaded her fingers through his and stepped closer to his side. He smiled down at her, and everything slipped into place.

The elevator dinged and opened, and they stepped into the empty car. “We’re on,” Kell announced.

“The limo’s coming down the street,” Grant replied. “I’m at the valet. Gave the attendant an old ticket, so he won’t find my car. I’ll be right here, ready.”

“I’m in the garage,” Henricksen added. “I’ll pick up Neely as soon as the limo pulls away.”

“Tip the valet well,” Zoe advised, smiling. “Never know when you need them on your side.”

Grant chuckled and Kell squeezed her hand. They stopped on a lower floor, where a group of women wearing conference badges stepped on, talking animatedly. She and Kell stood in the corner, silent, until they reached the lobby.

The bright sun made her blink hard when they stepped through the automatic doors, but Will Carling was immediately at her side, kissing her cheek. Then he caught sight of hers and Kell’s linked fingers and frowned.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure?” He straightened and reached to shake hands with Kell.

“Will, this is my fiancé, Kellen Stone. He’s very interested in seeing your collection. I hope you don’t mind if he joins us?” She held her breath and her smile. Carling looked a little like he’d bitten into a lemon while expecting candy. She knew what he had to be thinking. She hadn’t mentioned Kell the night before. She was a tease, or he’d misinterpreted.

Suddenly, their plan made no sense. Will’s eyes cut to her, and in a split second she made a decision. She looked steadily at him, trying to convey a whole history.
I don’t love him. I’m interested in you. Last night wasn’t a lie, and I don’t want him here, but what can you do? Political expectations.
She lifted her shoulders in a tiny shrug and Will smiled, a knowing look coming into his eyes.

“Of course it’s all right. I love sharing my art with knowledgeable people.” He tucked Zoe’s hand into the crook of his arm and turned his back on Kell, leaving him to follow. Zoe let her body relax slowly, so he wouldn’t sense it, but thought,
Man, guys are so easy
.

Will handed her into the limo and slid in beside her. Kell sat on the other side, facing them. Apparently Will had insulted him enough, however, because he began making small talk with him.

After a moment, Will asked, “What’s your interest in art?”

“Purely creative.”

“You create?”

Kell shook his head. “God, no. I’m fascinated by how a hunk of unformed material can be shaped into something amazing. By the act of transferring a vision from brain to hand to sculpture or canvas.”

Will nodded. “It’s the most unquantifiable discipline in the world. That’s why I love it. When you work in an industry that’s all about measurement and statistics and defined characteristics, you need to balance it with the opposite.”

They passed the rest of the drive exchanging opinions along the same lines, and Zoe marveled at how easily Kell donned his role. Of course, he’d been bred to be able to communicate with anyone about anything, but this was a different situation. And in the years they’d been together, she’d never heard Kell talk about paintings and sculpture the way he did now.

She raised her eyebrows at him once, and his eyes crinkled, but he didn’t take his attention off Will.

The limo slowed and pulled into a long driveway. At the end of the drive was a magnificent stone mansion with exquisite landscaping. It reminded Zoe of Kell’s parents’ home, though much larger. When they got inside, though, right away she changed her mind. Where the Stones’ home welcomed you in and made you comfortable even as it showcased their wealth, this house was no home. It was showcase only.

The foyer walls were lined with paintings, old portraits she was sure were worth a fortune but that looked down on them with stern disapproval.

“Are these ancestors?” she asked, and Will laughed.

“No, they’re just acquisitions.”

“Degas?” Kell asked from where he stood examining a small bronze statue of a ballet dancer.

“Good eye. She was a young girl…” He rattled on for a couple of minutes about the supposed inspiration for the piece, and Degas’ working conditions, and the provenance of the original. “Of course, this is a reproduction, so I don’t count it among my actual collection.”

Zoe forced back a groan. If he was going to rattle on like this about every single thing… “I can’t wait to see,” she said brightly, thinking it was almost as big a lie as the one she’d told Kell when she left him.

“Brunch should be ready in just a mo—”

“Oh, no,” she interrupted, “I’m too eager. Can we see your pieces first?”

Will seemed taken aback, but agreed.

Let the boredom begin.

* * *

“Oh, my
God
!” Grant pushed back against the car seat, stretching as much as he could. “I thought this was going to be dangerous.”

“It is,” Henricksen growled. “To our sanity.”

“If he goes on about one more fucking glass tile—”

“At least we’re out here,” the agent reminded him. “Imagine being in there and having to pretend you’re interested.”

“Good point.” Grant reached for his soda and sucked it down, listening to Stone excuse himself from whatever room they were in. “What the hell is he doing, leaving her alone with Carling?”

“At this point, I don’t think—”

“Hey!” The word was hissed from the back of Stone’s throat. There was the sound of a door closing, and Stone whispered, “We can hear everything you say. It’s damned distracting, and this is hard enough without listening to you complain!”

Fuck. Grant hadn’t exactly forgotten they could hear him as clearly as he could hear them, but he wasn’t used to working with people who hadn’t learned to block it out. “Sorry, man.”

“Yeah, well, just shut it, all right?”

“Any sign of the totems yet?”

“No, but we’ve progressed from the classics to the more esoteric and legend-based stuff. We should get to them soon.”

“Good. I’m—”

“Don’t say it.”

Grant fell silent and sat still while he listened to the conversation Kell rejoined. Zoe was apparently asking Carling about a…decoupage frog? Had he heard that correctly?

It had been well over an hour since they started. Grant hoped to hell they were almost at the—

“Okay, here we are at my prized pieces.” Carling’s voice had taken on a note of greater pride and even a hint of excitement. After a few metallic clinks and a whir, he heard Zoe gasp softly. He straightened a little in his seat, and Henricksen stopped leaning on his hand, elbow braced on the edge of the car door. Was this it?

“Those are…unique.” Her voice shook. A moment later, a double-tap on the mike just about shattered Grant’s eardrum. He bit back a shout and glared at Henricksen. He couldn’t even yank out headphones or cover the button. Henricksen shrugged, but smirked. It had been his idea for Stone to tap the mike when Zoe confirmed the totems were the ones she’d dumped sixteen years ago. Carling droned on about how he’d found them, how much he’d paid for them, and why. It was dry stuff, no better than the rest of his stories, and barely touched on the Jacob Farmer legends. But Zoe’s breathing rasped a little in the earpiece, and Grant knew they were the right ones.

“That’s good enough for me,” Henricksen said.

“Get out of there,” Grant ordered. “But subtly.” Boredom had turned to urgency. Now that they knew where the totems were, he wanted Zoe as far away from them as possible. The FBI could take it from here.

“Are you all right, honey?” Kell asked, initiating their exit strategy.

But Grant knew better than any of them that it was too early to relax.

* * *

Illness was difficult to fake when your primary emotion was elation. Zoe knew the polite interest she’d held on her face all morning had changed the instant Will removed the bear totem from its case. She let Kell take over and faded back a little, willing her flushed face and quick breathing to appear flu-ish.

“Are you okay, hon?” Kell asked. She glanced up to see him and Will watching her with concern.

She almost said, “Of course!” but, duh, that wasn’t the right response. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” she assured them as you do when you know it’s not nothing but you don’t want someone to worry.

“You probably need food,” Will decided. He started to replace the totem in the case, but Zoe stepped forward.

“You might be right, but I don’t want to cut this short. These are so unusual.” She held out her hands as if to cradle the totem. “May I examine it?” She and Kell had both examined a couple of other things more closely, so asking to look at these wouldn’t be as suspicious.

Will smiled. “Certainly.” He settled it into her hands, and a shiver went up her spine.

“Heavy,” she marveled.

“Iron,” he agreed. “An unusual manufacture, of course. Weight—perhaps stability—must have been important.”

“Why would someone make something like this?” she asked.

“Well, Jacob Farmer had mixed ancestry, with multiple influences, and probably a difficult life because of it.” Will eased closer to her side and pointed to the markings near the bottom. “You can see where he tapped into his African culture here, where symbols are reminiscent of tribal storytelling. And, of course, the animals at the top are Native American. The prevailing belief is that he was attempting to transcend his failure to belong to any of these cultures by belonging to them all.”

“Just by making some sculptures?” Kell looked skeptical. Will chuckled.

“Probably not. Farmer never documented his intent, as far as anyone has been able to find, but there is a key that supposedly goes with these. Like a map, to unlock the connection.” He described the piece of leather Zoe had found a picture of.

Kell shifted his weight, his elbow nudging hers. It was time.