Chapter Twenty-Two Rey
“Do you know him?” Abra asks Cicero.
“I’ve met him a few times at auctions. We’ve never bid on the same items. He prefers the art, jewelry, and other pieces.
I usually go for the documents. But we’ve crossed paths and even shared a conversation or two.
I wouldn’t say we’re friends, but we’re friendly.
I know he’s the youngest son of Manuel Costa. ”
“Manuel Costa? As in the Costa Cartel?” Hex asks.
Cicero shrugs. “He never mentioned what his father did for a living. Just that he was an important and wealthy man.”
“Is Miguel an active member of the Cartel?” I ask.
“We haven’t had dealings with the Cartel. I’ve heard of Manuel Costa and I know he has a son who is second-in-command, but I don’t know if that’s Miguel.”
“I’ll do more research on him and his family,” Pirate offers.
“In the meantime, I’d like to go with you to the warehouse,” Cicero says to Abra.
Abra leads the way outside, and I slide on behind him as he revs the motor.
Cicero moves to a sleek Jaguar XKE in bright turquoise.
I don’t know much about cars, but I do know my history.
This stunning vehicle was designed to be a work of art and is regarded as one of the most beautiful vehicles ever created.
It is also very rare. Cicero pulls in behind us and follows us to the warehouse.
Along the way, I notice Abra is on alert as he scans the road.
I imagine he’s searching for someone tailing us again.
He doesn’t relax until we reach the warehouse without incident.
Using his remote, Abra opens the garage door and drives in with Cicero right behind us. Once we’re sealed in tight, Abra assists me off the bike before taking my helmet. Cicero climbs out of his masterpiece to eye the collection of vehicles on the opposite side of the garage.
“You have some beauties,” Cicero says as he admires the BMW 540K.
“So do you,” I say, nodding at his XKE.
Cicero beams at me. “She’s my baby. She belonged to my great-grandfather, who purchased it new back in ‘61. He had it shipped over here. It’s been in our family ever since. As much as I want to admire what you have down here, I want to see what you have upstairs.”
“Let’s head to the office first. I need to show Rey my records on the pieces. Then I’ll take you to see the collection.”
“These files contain everything I’ve learned about each piece,” Abra says, gesturing to the wooden file cabinets sitting close to the wall near his desk on the third floor.
He pulls out a journal and hands it to me.
“This is where I jotted down why I targeted each piece along with a summary of the information I learned, including the name, if it has one.”
I take the journal and flip through it. Abra’s masculine handwriting is easy to read.
I ignore Abra and Cicero as they disappear into the elevator.
I’m guessing he’s taking Cicero downstairs to view his collection.
I’ll join them later. After a quick glance through the filing system, I grab the journal and my phone before heading downstairs.
I have a good idea of where I want to start.
On the second floor, I find Cicero gazing intently at The Widow in Black. He doesn’t notice me until I’m standing next to him. “Where’s Abra?” I ask.
Cicero jolts before looking around the room. “I don’t know. He got a call. I guess he left.”
“He left the warehouse?” I ask in surprise. I can’t imagine him leaving without telling me. I reach for my phone, but I don’t need it. A door near the elevator opens, and Abra steps through. I see a stairwell behind him.
“I thought you left,” I say when he joins us.
“Without telling you? Not a chance,” Abra says, kissing my temple. “However, I do need to go. Hex called, and he wants me to meet him and the others. I shouldn’t be gone long. Cicero, you’ll look after her? Cicero?”
Cicero jolts before turning to face us. “Oh, you’re still here. I thought you left. Did you leave and come back already?”
Abra smirks. “I haven’t left, but I’m leaving now. Why are you so enthralled with that painting?”
“I recognize this piece,” Cicero says. “Or at least there is something familiar about it. I can’t remember why.”
Abra claps him on the back. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Rey, walk me out?”
I follow him into the elevator. In the garage, he searches through a drawer before pulling out a remote.
“This will open the garage door. I’d rather you didn’t leave, but I don’t know how long I’ll be.
If it gets too late, you can have Cicero drive you back to the clubhouse.
You can also sleep upstairs if you need to rest. Please help yourself to anything I have in the kitchen. Will you be alright here without me?”
“We’ll be fine,” I assure him as I take the remote and study it. When I look at him, he must see the confused expression on my face.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing. It’s just… You trust me with this? Why? We barely know each other.”
“Really? Because I feel like I’ve known you forever,” Abra says, cupping my cheek. “You’re brilliant,” he says, kissing my right eye. “Sexy,” he continues, as he kisses my left. “Strong,” he says, kissing my nose. “Mine,” he says, before devouring my mouth.
I sink into the kiss and relish the experience.
When he handed me the remote, I was wary about how quickly he developed such faith in me.
We hardly know each other, yet he’s trusting me with access to not only his most prized possessions but also with his freedom.
I could easily call my brother and have Abra arrested for all the stolen items in his possession.
But I won’t do that. For some reason, Abra knows I won’t do it, either.
Maybe I should question his sanity, but then I’d have to question my own.
Because I realize that not only does he trust me completely, but I trust him, too.
Abra gives me another quick smack before mounting his bike. He lifts his hand in a wave as he backs out of the garage. I watch him go with my lips still tingling from his kisses. Unable to keep the smile off my face, I enter the elevator. I find Cicero where we left him.
“You’re going to burn a hole in it,” I chide him.
He jerks and swivels to study me. It takes him a few moments to figure out what I said. Then he smirks. “It’s driving me crazy. I recognize this painting, but I can’t place where I’ve seen it.”
“Maybe you saw it on television,” I suggest. “Abra took the painting from the descendant of the man who stole it from the original owners. Abra said he’s something of a slumlord. He sounded like the type of asshole who would go to the press and whine about being a victim.”’
Cicero chuckles. “I know who you mean. No, I don’t think I’ve seen it on television.”
“Did you see it in person? Maybe you saw it before Abra stole it?”
Cicero shakes his head. “No, that’s not it.”
“You’ll figure it out,” I assure him as I grab the journal and notepad so I can get to work.
Using the journal, I identify each piece and memorize its appearance, while also familiarizing myself with its history.
I take notes as I work through the room.
For each piece, I document a plan of attack for identifying the original owner.
Once I identify the owner, I can put together a plan for returning the item.
Once I finish my circuit, Cicero is still staring at the painting.
I smile at his obsession with the piece.
He’s not the only one with an obsession.
I move to the pieces that have captured my attention—the jewelry with the sad history.
I study the gold and ruby beauties as I think about the poor man who loved his wife so much that he sold them to save her.
I’m so engrossed in my thoughts that I startle when Cicero lets out a loud exclamation.
“What?” I ask, bending to pick up the pen I dropped.
“I remembered why this painting feels so familiar. I’ve read about it in a ship's manifest. I can identify the original owners if I can find it.”
“That would be great!” I say, joining him in front of the painting. “Do you know which ship?”
“No, I can’t remember. I need to re-read the manifests, which is why we need to go.”
“We should probably wait for Abra,” I protest.
“No, we need to go now,” Cicero insists. “If I’m remembering correctly, this is information that can’t wait.”