Chapter Twenty-Four Rey
I make sure to double-check the locks on all the doors and windows, even though we hadn’t unlocked any of them, before joining Cicer in his car.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t super excited about the trip, and not only because we might make some headway on finding the original owner of The Widow in Black.
No, the primary source of my excitement was sitting in the work of art that was Cicero’s Jaguar.
As a history buff who adores art, I feel like I’m in heaven.
“Where are we going?” I ask. “Your house?”
I gape at him. “You’ve got to be kidding! That’s thousands of manifests.”
“Tens of thousands,” Cicero agrees. “I can’t remember how many I have.
I’ve scanned them all into a database, but I still like reading through the copies.
They’ve been a fascination of mine since I was a kid.
I loved reading about all the things people brought with them when they moved from Europe to here.
Many brought nothing, and many brought almost everything they owned.
I especially love reading about those who fled the French Revolution.
For so long, this country was a haven to those seeking sanctuary.
Now we’re a country headed for a second civil war.
A war that may resemble the French Revolution.
Instead of being a country offering help to those who need it, we’ve become the country many are fleeing to avoid persecution.
I can’t help but see the similarities and wonder what treasures will leave these shores and end up elsewhere. ”
That’s a sobering thought. Tensions are running high in this country, but it seems like every decade or so, ideologies clash.
Our country has survived clashing priorities for almost 250 years.
I have confidence that we’ll survive the current turmoil.
Perhaps 'confidence' is too strong a word. Hope. I have hope that we’ll survive. I shake myself to clear my thoughts of things I can’t control so I can focus on things I can.
When Cicero pulls to a stop at a light behind several other vehicles, I glance over to spot a pawn shop on the corner up ahead.
“Wait, we need to stop there,” I tell Cicero, pointing at the pawn shop.
He glances over and frowns. “You want to go to a pawn shop? Why? I don’t think Abra would want us to pawn the painting.”
“No, that’s not what I– wait, what? You brought the painting?” I ask, momentarily distracted.
“Well, yeah. If I’m right, we’re going to need it. Now, why do you want to go to a pawn shop?”
I want to push Cicero on why he felt the need to take the painting away from the secure warehouse, but I also have a strong urge to visit the pawn shop. Damn. “Look, drop me off at the pawn shop and I can get an Uber to the clubhouse.”
Cicero gapes at me. “Are you crazy? Abra would kill me if I left you somewhere. Do you want him to kill me?”
“He won’t…” I start, but then realize Cicero is right. I glance at the pawn shop and nod. “Okay, let’s go to the clubhouse. The pawn shop can wait.”
Cicero drums his fingers on the steering wheel before heaving a great sigh. “How long will this take?”
“I don’t know, not long,” I say, even though I know I’m lying. What I have planned will require some time and assistance from Cicero.
Cicero shakes his head, but he pulls over and parks in front of the store. “Do you need me to go in?”
“Yeah, I need you to distract the guy working the counter so that I can sneak into his office.”
Cicero’s mouth drops open as he stares at me. “What the fuck! I can’t do that. We’ll get caught! Are you crazy?”
“Look, that’s the pawn shop where a young man sold his family’s greatest treasure so he could pay for the surgery to save his wife’s life. If I can get into the records, then I can find his name and we can return the jewelry to him.”
Cicero glances at me, then at the pawnshop, then back at me before rubbing his hand over his face. “Have you ever been in a pawn shop?”
I frown at his question. What does that have to do with anything? “No, why?”
“First, there is nothing I could say or do to distract that guy long enough for you to sneak into the back. Why? Because pawn shop owners often deal with criminals. He won’t be distracted.
Besides, he probably has cameras everywhere, and he’ll be able to see the feed and will notice movement if you manage to get past him.
What you need is someone who can break in without getting caught. A professional.”
“Like Abra,” I say, resigned.
“Like Abra,” he agrees. “Look, it isn’t that I don’t think you have the right idea. We do need to see those records. I think Abra will agree with you as well. But we need a plan to get them.”
I watch the man inside the pawn shop as he helps a customer.
Even though he’s focused on the customer, I can see his eyes constantly roaming the store and flicking to something on the wall.
Cicero is correct; this guy is too observant.
I’d never make it past him. I sigh in defeat and am about to tell Cicero to continue driving to the clubhouse when the customer turns and walks toward us.
I suck in a breath when I realize I recognize him.
Fuck! “That’s Dontel! You need to get us out of here,” I say, scrunching down in the seat and praying that Dontel doesn’t see me.
My prayers go unanswered when I hear a roar of anger just before he pounds on the window.
“Rey! You fucking bitch! Get out!” Dontel screams as he tries to open the door.
Cicero guns the engine and swerves back into traffic.
I crane my neck to see Dontel and notice the gun just before he shoots at us.
Cicero curses as he turns left at the first street before making a series of turns that have us criss-crossing and backtracking until we pull onto the freeway.
“Who the fuck was that?” Cicero demands as he swerves around cars. His eyes flick constantly to the rearview mirror as he picks up speed.
“Dontel. He’s my ex,” I say.
“Shit. He shot at us!”
“I know, I’m so sorry. I didn’t recognize him in the shop. If I had, I would have told you to leave. Shit, is he following us?”
“No, I think we lost him. He was running for a car when we turned the corner. I saw someone turn onto the street behind us, but I think I’ve lost them. How dangerous is he? I know he shot at us, but…”
“My brother Max is searching for Dontel. He thinks Dontel might have killed a cop,” I tell Cicero. He needs to know the truth. He needs to know what we’re up against.
“Maybe you should call your brother and tell him what happened,” Cicero suggests.
“Good idea,” I say, taking out my phone and calling Max.
“Hey, baby sis, can I call you back? I think I got a lead…” Max starts, but I cut him off.
“I just saw Dontel, and he shot at me,” I interrupt. “We think we lost him. He was at the pawn shop on the corner of Millerview and Breton.”
“Are you with Abra?” Max demands.
I can hear him running and know that he’s headed to his car.
“No, I’m with Cicero. We’re on our way back to the clubhouse.”
Max says nothing, and I’d think he hung up, but I can still hear him breathing.
“Are you still there?” I ask him.
“I’m here. Why the fuck did Abra let you out of the clubhouse? He was supposed to be guarding you. I’ll see you at the clubhouse in half an hour. Pack your shit. I’m coming to get you.”
Max ends the call before I can argue with him. Shit. I really fucked this up. If I hadn’t told Cicero to stop, none of this would be happening.
“You need to call Abra,” Cicero says. “Tell him we’re coming in hot. I think we lost the asshole, but I won’t know for certain until we stop.”
I nod as I select Abra’s name and place the call. He answers on the first ring.
“What’s wrong?”
“Umm, Cicero and I are headed back to the clubhouse. I saw Dontel. He shot at us. Max is hunting him down.”
“What? How the hell did that happen? Never mind, where are you now?”
I give him our locations.
“We’re fifteen minutes from the clubhouse,” Cicero calls out.
“Okay, we’re right behind you.”