Chapter 19 #2
“But you can’t promise to get Alders off their back,” Will pointed out. “Because Alders wants the Puffin, and we don’t even know who has the original Puffin at this point unless Cheyenne starts talking. She’s the one who made Lilith’s replica, after all.”
Cole’s eyes lost focus. After a moment, he shook his head and exhaled. “I don’t know. I just—I need to talk to Lilith.” He met Will’s gaze. “You need to make sure Cheyenne gets to her exhibition studio in time to set Marcus up.”
Oh, hell no. “We’re staying together,” Will insisted.
Cole gestured to his knee. “Desiree and Cheyenne need backup, and I’m not going to be moving at more than a slow walk for a week or two, the way this feels. You’re the only choice.”
Will stared at him for a moment, weighing odds in his head.
Cheyenne’s second studio was in downtown Manhattan, full of video cameras that would be observing him constantly.
Him, and Desiree, and Cheyenne. Jansen was already in the wind and undoubtedly wanted nothing to do with the rest of them for at least a year, probably more, and Vanessa was too sly to put herself out there if she didn’t have to.
There was no way in hell she’d be seen downtown anytime soon.
It was possible that this would end in almost everyone except for Cole being in the line of fire.
What a coup—for him to be able to get revenge on Marcus and take out everyone who might be able to threaten him at the same time.
Will could implicate Cole all he liked, but the man had the skills to cover his tracks.
It would be he said versus he said, and Will knew he’d come out the loser in a battle like that.
Or he could trust Cole.
“You sure you can run Lilith down on her own?” he asked, and Cole nodded. “All right, then.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Damn, I’m gonna need to sleep for a week after this. Give me time to make a pot of coffee, then set me up with Desiree. I’ll be there.”
“And you’ll be careful,” Cole insisted.
“Careful as a cat on ice.”
“I don’t think that’s the best simile, all things considered.”
He smiled. “It’s the best. Nine lives and all, can’t do better than that.” He moved to get to his feet, but Cole caught his hand and pulled him back down.
“Wait.” Will looked at Cole, and Cole looked at their hands. After a second, he turned his palm over and tentatively twined their fingers together. “I’m sorry,” he said at last. “I didn’t mean to upset you with what I said.”
It was easier to forgive with Vanessa’s perspective in his head. “It’s all right.” He gave Cole a little squeeze. “I figure if I save your ass a few more times, the lesson might even stick.”
“Shut up.” Cole didn’t let go, though. “Are we okay?”
Will had to laugh. “Aww, honeybee, don’t you know?
” He leaned into Cole, pressing him deeper into the corner of the couch.
“We’re the best.” Their kiss didn’t have the same heat they’d been on the verge of setting themselves on fire with earlier.
This was softer, gentler. Maybe a little kinder, and harder than ever to pull back from.
Will managed it eventually, though, then stood up to put some space between them so he wasn’t overly tempted by their proximity to a bed.
“All right, honeybee, let’s set up a sting.”
Two hours later Will and Desiree, dressed as custodial staff for the bougie athletica store across from the gallery, set up their perch on the second story, where they’d be able to get a good look into the gallery.
Luckily the whole front was glass, to facilitate a “natural viewing experience” for potential buyers.
They took turns watching through a scope as Cheyenne began to walk across the street wearing a trenchcoat and a haunted expression.
“I count two bodyguards, one asshole of an ex, and approximately ten cops in range,” Will murmured.
“Eleven,” Desiree corrected. “The guy at the stoplight has been there for five cycles now.”
“Eleven, gotcha.” They watched Cheyenne approach the front door to the gallery and take out her key.
Not that she needed it, of course, but… “How did you convince her to face down Marcus again?” Will asked as he watched the forger fumble and drop the key to the ground.
Of course Cheyenne wouldn’t want the gallery to burn, but that wasn’t enough to motivate her to risk her life. “She’s as shaky as a fawn.”
Desiree shrugged. “I told her it was the only chance she had of getting ahead of the charges coming for her. I gave her the option of tagging in Lilith, but…no response.”
Shit. That didn’t bode well for any of them.
“Plus I put a shock collar around her thigh and told her I’d zap her every time she stopped moving for five seconds.”
Wait, what. Will gaped at Desiree, who looked unusually serious.
“Better than putting it on her neck,” Desiree defended herself. “And she’s a double-dealing piece of shit, Will. She should be grateful we’re giving her the leeway we are instead of breaking her arms and throwing her into the Hudson.”
“Goddamn,” he murmured. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
“You wouldn’t. Ah, there she goes. Finally.” The door opened and Cheyenne slipped inside. “Let’s listen in, huh?”
“Sure.” Desiree turned up the volume on the burner phone that connected them just in time for Marcus to come through loud and clear.
“Stop right there, bitch.”
Wow, had Marcus always been so casually misogynistic?
The two cups of coffee Will had downed on the way here roiled in his stomach at the sound of his ex-something, a guy he’d once wanted to think the world of, acting like such a miserable excuse for a human being.
Part of him wanted to march over there right now and punch the fucker in the face, demand an explanation for why he was the way he was.
What did he hope to get out of hurting people the way he did?
Out of stringing Cole along, treating Cheyenne like trash, building a house of cards with Alders? What sort of psychopath was he?
Will didn’t move. He just listened.
“You smell that?”
Cheyenne stiffened. “Solvent.”
“Yep. I had these boys douse the front of this place in paint thinner. One wrong move from you, and I set it on fire while we escape out the back. You can watch another studio go up in flames.”
“It’s a gallery,” she said petulantly. “Not a studio, and do you have any idea how many hundreds of thousands of dollars in supplies you cost me by setting my place on fire?”
“Do you have any idea how much wasted time you’ve cost me by not telling me who you made Puffins for?”
“I don’t know any more than you!” Cheyenne protested. “I had nothing to do with the job you pulled. Do these gentlemen know you’re the one behind the theft of Alders’ statue?”
Marcus laughed. “You mean the one I was paid by their boss to steal as a security test?”
“So that’s his latest lie,” Desiree murmured. “It could muddle things with the cops.”
“Nah,” Will said. “He’s already played out his hand with Alders as far as he can, and it doesn’t include this cover. It’ll be easy to debunk.” He glanced down the street. “They’re not moving yet, though.”
They would soon, though, surely.
“I know you set me up,” Marcus insisted. “Lilith already verified that Cole Dalton has the real Puffin. You’ve been making all sorts of replicas for him, haven’t you? Muddying the waters, trying to get more money out of the rest of us.”
Cheyenne squawked. “You’re the one who pulled everybody into this theft in the first place! All your talk about the Puffin being a one-of-a-kind artifact, priceless and gorgeous—you set everyone up, not me! You—”
“Shut the fuck up!” There was a click, and Will stiffened as he saw a light flare up in the dark space. “This is your last chance to come clean, or I burn this place to the ground like I did the last one, and—”
“There they go, cops are moving,” Will said. “Finally, damn.”
“And that’s our cue to leave,” Desiree said, already heading for the door. “You coming?”
He should, but… “I’m gonna make sure she gets out first.”
Desiree sighed. “There’s nothing you can do for Cheyenne now, Will. She’s either going to make it out, or she won’t. Either way, she’s on her own.”
He hated the fact that she was right. “You go, I’m right behind you,” he said as he broke down the scope, tucked it into his overalls, and pushed the custodian’s cart to the side of the room.
He wiped it down, just to be safe, and made sure the cameras were still off before heading down to the first floor.
He was on the verge of opening the door to the stairwell when the lights came on.
It wasn’t even six a.m. Why were the lights on?
Then he saw the police through the tiny glass window in the metal door, wandering among the too-thin mannequins with weapons drawn.
Apparently Commissioner Isaac was trying to cover all her bases by investigating multiple locations.
Or maybe Alders had caught sight of him on a camera and clued them in. Or…
It didn’t matter. Will had to go, now. He took the back door and sighed in relief at the empty alleyway. Desiree was nowhere in sight—perfect, she’d gotten away. He was almost to the street when the cop car pulled up in front of the alley, lights flashing.
Well, shit. Will grabbed his phone and texted out a quick SOS to Cole, then turned and ran in the opposite direction. He heard shouts behind him, commands to lie down that he ignored, then the crack of a gun going off.
He turned the corner and ran for his life.