Collection (13 page)

Lucien sighed out of frustration.

“Well, that may be, but I haven't decided what I'm up to yet. I need to think. In the meantime, I need her to want to talk to me again and that's not likely after the night we've had. We were abducted by Raleigh Harris. He killed a man in front of her. She probably won't want to see me again after she has some time to think about it. I've got to keep her curious, and this house should do it. Cicero is always saying that the way to seduce a woman is to pique her curiosity.” Laurel raised her eyebrow.

“Well, I'm sure his advice on romance is golden, as always. Why do you want to talk to her again? Just pay her off and be done with it.”

“There's something off about her. She knew the Barye bronze was a fake.”

“I doubt that very much.”

Lucien snapped the drawer closed. “No. She knew. She can tell when I'm lying. She can tell when anyone is lying. If that's not worth further discussion, I don't know what is.”

“I'm sure that if you speak to her enough you'll figure out how she does it. You should be more concerned how this singular individual found her way to you. There's not such a thing as a coincidence, after all. How much does she know about us?”

“I'm a thief, smuggler, and forger. You know, just the really flattering stuff.”

“I hope you don't intend to tell her anything more.”

“Of course not. I don't know how that would benefit either us or her.”

“Do me a favor and be careful. There was once a time that we could get away with a few mistakes here and there. We can't anymore. Curious or not, you've got to cut her loose if she's a danger to us.”

“I'll do more than cut her loose if this has been a set-up. I'll give her a standing ovation for her acting skills, then I'll cut her pretty little throat.”

12

JANE GOT ANTSY
and stood up to walk a bit. She wandered over to the staircase. It was hand carved and she had never seen anything like it. Part of her previous semester had been spent taking an architectural course that discussed decorative arts including woodcarving. This staircase was Elizabethan. It was a good 300 years out of context in this house, but Jane still found it charming. She leaned closer to see some of the fine details and heard someone clear their throat behind her. Lucien lurked just outside one of the doors off the main hall.

“Oh, it's you. Are we set?” She was mildly annoyed to see that he had taken the time to change clothes. Just because he was home didn't mean that he couldn't move a little faster for her sake.

Lucien looked at her strangely, “Should we be set?”

“Yes…I think so. I've got to get home, I'm exhausted.” Jane didn't want a long, drawn out goodbye. It had been an exciting and horrible experience, but it was over. Time to move on with her life.

He didn't move, and Jane suddenly felt uncomfortable. After all, he was the one who had offered to pay for the ride home, not her. Making her ask for the fare money in the foyer of his fancy house didn't seem very classy, but Jane had dealt with more than a few guys who were far less civilized. “So, I think it's going to be about two hundred.”

“Wow. Two hundred. Are you sure it's worth it?” He was smiling and teasing her and she was not going to put up with it. She still had to pick up her car and drive back to Branley. If she was lucky, Sadie wouldn't be home and she could go straight to sleep. She'd probably be able to recover enough to work her scheduled shift without falling
asleep on her feet. If Sadie was there when she got back, she would have to answer a slew of questions before she had the slightest chance of getting to her bedroom. Jane still had no idea what she was going to tell Sadie. The long ride home would provide some thinking time, but she had to come up with a good reason why she didn't have Sadie's dress anymore. A very good reason.

“Yep, I'm sure it's worth it. Look, it's been a long night. So if you don't mind, I'd like to pay the man and get going.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of money. He peeled off two bills, hundreds, and handed them to her. The whole roll appeared to be hundreds, and her face flushed hot with anger that he was giving her such a hard time over an apparently inconsequential amount of money for him. He was back in his comfort zone, and bravado that had been masked by the necessity of survival was returning. “How much time does this buy me, or do you have to check with your pimp first?”

That was it. He knew she had no choice about the dress. He knew it wasn't the kind of thing she usually wore. Teasing about it not only pissed her off, it infuriated her. He was a nice guy when he needed to be, but since he was done with her he was obviously cutting any ties. She got it. He was gorgeous, and she looked like a dirty trollop. She didn't need this crap. She didn't need to be chased away like a stray dog.

“What the hell is wrong with you!? I didn't ask to be sucked into your little world of criminals and crappy paintings. I didn't ask to see a man get his brains blown out five feet away from me. I just want to go home. Don't worry, you will never see me again. Just make sure I never see you again either.”

She went straight for the door without looking back.

13

JANE ARRIVED IN BRANLEY
a couple of hours later. She was almost falling asleep at the wheel by the time she turned into the parking lot for her apartment. Once they got to the museum, the cab driver had asked for another fifty on top of the two hundred Lucien had given her, but she didn't have the energy to argue with the man. She had some cash in her car for emergencies, and this certainly qualified. She gave it to him and gratefully sat in the driver's seat of her car. It smelled just like she remembered. It almost made her cry.

So much had changed from yesterday to today. Maybe, if she tried hard enough, she could forget it all. She could pretend that it was just a bad dream. Some of her dreams ended up with her naked in them, but none of them ended up with her wearing a new dress. That was still hard to explain. Jane decided to tell Sadie that she met a guy, he spilled wine on her dress, he bought her a new one, and then she slept with him. It was better for Sadie to believe she was a floozy than to know the truth. God knows Sadie had done much worse. She could get the dress dry cleaned and then give it to her as a peace offering. It would look decent on her at least. She had a smaller chest.

Jane dragged herself into the elevator and up to their floor. She opened the door to their apartment, and was grateful that it was empty. It was just after noon and Sadie was probably still at the Psych labs for her summer job. She had a crush on her professor from last semester, and had jumped at the opportunity to help him with some research over the summer. Sadie had daddy issues. Jane closed and locked the door behind her with more care than she had ever taken before. Nobody was coming through that door but Sadie with a key.

Her purse fell to the floor, and she didn't bother to pick it up. Her bed was unmade as she had left it the previous morning, and the messy sheets formed a little cocoon just her size. But, she just couldn't bring herself to go to bed without a shower. Something about soaping up and washing her hair made her feel like the events of last night were further away. Time was passing normally now, instead of the slow-motion panic of the previous hours. It felt good to have control over her life again. She put the nightmare dress on a hanger before she collapsed into bed, naked and with wet hair.

14

“WAKE UP! WAKE UP, JANE!
Where have you been, you little slut!” Jane woke up to Sadie jumping on her bed with the uncontrolled glee of an 8-year-old. She pulled her covers over her head, but Sadie refused to budge, instead reclining on top of Jane's legs.

“Unh. Go away. So tired.”

“It's almost four o'clock, get up and tell me what awful, nasty things you did last night!”

Jane cringed. She couldn't tell Sadie what awful things actually happened last night, so she would have to settle for Jane's fictional account. Without pausing for breath, Jane peeked her head out from the comforter and sped through a vague story about meeting a guy at the museum. When she got to the part where her make believe suitor spilled wine on her dress, Sadie gasped.

“Where is it? Maybe I can get the stain out before it sets!”

“The stain was permanent, so he bought me a new dress. It's hanging over there.” Jane untangled her hand from the covers and pointed in the general direction of the dress. Sadie leapt off the bed and picked up the hanger.

“Oh, Jane. This guy must have good taste. It's this season and not cheap.” Sadie held the dress in front of herself and played with the material of the skirt. Can I have him when you're done?”

“I am done with him, and you can't have him. But, you can have the dress. I'll get it dry cleaned. Tomorrow.”

“Ohhhhh…even better!” Sadie took the dress off the hanger and held it against her body. “It should fit perfectly. How on earth did you get into it?” Jane pulled the comforter back over her head. Sadie could be a little oblivious to hurtful comments sometimes, regardless
of how true they were. Jane was glad she never had to wear the dress again.

“So, not that I'm complaining about the dress or anything, but what got into you? I mean I can see me doing something like that, but not you. Was it because The Guy never showed up? Are you finally giving up on him?”

“Yep. I am giving up on him. I don't think I'll ever see him again, but that may not be a bad thing.”

“Maybe this new guy is better anyway. He gave you his number at least. The other guy didn't even give you his name. I know it might not be the best way to meet a guy. But if you're telling me I can't have him, that probably means you're not done with him.”

“Huh?”

“This ‘L” guy. The guy who gave you the dress. Maybe you should give him another chance. One night stands don't usually send you flowers the next day.”

Jane felt her stomach drop. Her voice felt flat.

“What guy? What flowers?”

“The ones on the kitchen table. Jeez, you really were conked out. They're beautiful! I read the card because I thought they were for me. Professor James and I had dinner after the study was finished yesterday. I thought maybe he sent them, or Jake from the coffee shop, or Brice from the library.”

Jane interrupted her to prevent the reading of the entire litany of Sadie's current roster of boyfriends.

“I didn't get flowers. I didn't let anyone in. What card?” Her brain was hurting, but Jane was sure she would have remembered someone coming to the door to deliver flowers. She was still nude under all of her covers, so she was certain that she didn't answer the door with nothing on.

Sadie walked out of the room and returned with a little envelope which had once been sealed up for delivery. Jane's name was clearly written on the outside. So much for Sadie's story of ‘accidently' reading it. Jane opened it and pulled out the card. “I wish we could meet again. L.” He had put his phone number below his name.

“These were inside when you got home?”

“Yeah. You're starting to freak me out, did you bring them in or not?”

“Sorry, yes, I did. I just forgot. They came earlier.”

“So, what does ‘L' stand for? Larry? Lloyd? Ugh, it's Lester isn't it?” Sadie's face screwed up in pity for Jane and her unfortunately named lover.

“Ah, no. It's Logan.” The less Sadie knew about Lucien, the better.

“Oh, good. I'm going to take my new dress to get cleaned. You relax, Sunshine, you look like you need a little rest.” Sadie bounced out of the room, leaving Jane with the aggravating little card.

One thing Jane knew was that a man who stole fine art for a living could probably find out where she lived and get into and out of her apartment without much trouble. She wasn't sure if she was creeped out or glad that he felt sorry in some small way for the pain that knowing him had caused her. Sadie probably thought that the card meant he wanted to hook up again. Far from the whirlwind romance and exorbitant gifts of Sadie's imagination, last night was not something Jane wanted to repeat again.

Jane wished they could meet again, too. She wished they could meet on the campus of Branley, in the sunshine. She wished he was a student like her, and that he didn't con people. She wished she didn't know that you had to see a lot of shit before your eyes became like Lucky's. Or, Lucien's, whatever. She wished they could have a chance to know each other. That wasn't going to happen. Part of her was sad, but sometimes life wasn't fair.

Jane wondered briefly if she should be concerned that he might be dangerous. From the time they spent with each other, she never got the impression that he was obsessive or unbalanced. He was consistently honest, once he realized she could tell if he was lying. The last time they spoke he was a jerk, but he was trying to get rid of her, not trap her. No, he wasn't a stalker. He was just not good at observing personal space. She remembered asking herself if she was the stalker yesterday morning. The situation had certainly changed.

Jane decided to keep the little card with his number, just in case. If Raleigh decided to use the personal information he'd gathered from Jane's purse, she needed someone to turn to besides the police. Going to the police would raise questions about kidnapping, Cuba, and murder. She didn't want to bring that stuff up unless she had no other choice.

15

LUCIEN AND CICERO SAT
across from each other in the library. Lucien had reclaimed his chair, and was staring across the desk at Cicero's smiling face.

“And then she tells me it'll be about two hundred, and I ask her if it's worth it!”

Lucien massaged his temples to keep a growing headache at bay. “Cicero, every time you tell me this story, it sounds more and more like you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“How was I supposed to know she was just some girl you got mixed up with? She looked like, well, a professional. You know…a hooker.”

Lucien stared at Cicero in an unfriendly manner. “I got that. She couldn't help it. Her own clothes were filthy after rolling around unconscious in that van. Raleigh was trying to be a good host, I suppose. He was more polite than you. You shouldn't treat anyone like that. Whether you think they're a whore or not.”