Chapter 12 #2
“Mr. Ashcroft has a business proposition for you. I’ll be happy to tell you all about it once we arrive at the airport.”
Before I could respond, Nana shrieked, “He’s not going anywhere with you, you fucking low rent Bond villain wannabe!
” She grabbed a vegetable peeler and tried to lunge at Cavendish, which caused two of the guns to swivel in her direction.
Fortunately, Bunny had a strong hold on her.
He picked her up and moved her farther away while she kicked and fought and cussed a blue streak.
I had to get these men out of here before they hurt someone, so I said, “Okay. Let’s go,” and started to head for the door.
But then, to my absolute horror, Cavendish turned to Armando and said, “You’re coming too, mate.”
Fear shot down my spine as I growled, “He’s not a part of this!”
“But he is, Mr. di Pietro. He’s what’s known as leverage, in case you start to feel uncooperative.” I wanted to punch the smile off Cavendish’s face.
When I glanced at Armando his eyes were huge and he was frozen in place, like a mouse that was trying to avoid a bird of prey. I turned back to Cavendish and tried to lie. “He’s no one to me. I barely know him.”
Cavendish sighed and pulled a phone from his jacket pocket.
“We both know that’s not true, Mr. di Pietro.
” He tapped the screen a couple of times before turning it toward me.
A video of Armando and myself was playing, which sent a shiver down my spine.
It had been taken maybe half an hour ago, when we were hugging and kissing out on the sidewalk.
I whispered, “How did you get that?”
“Like I said, we’ve been watching this house, as well as Mr. Dombruso’s.
All we had to do was hack into the doorbell cameras of your neighbors across the street, and we had round-the-clock surveillance.
Funnily enough, our facial recognition software almost sent us after your second cousin Mike a few weeks back, but we caught the mistake before collecting the wrong man. ”
Suddenly, all the guns swiveled around so they were pointed at Dante.
I had no idea what he’d been up to since he was behind me, but Cavendish clicked his tongue and said, “Now, now, Mr. Dombruso, this isn’t really the time to try to be a hero, is it?
Not with your beloved grandmother in the line of fire. ”
Dante snarled, “I’ll fucking kill you,” which seemed to amuse Cavendish.
“Let’s not be ridiculous. I know you’re used to being a big fish in a small pond, but now you’re swimming with sharks.” He turned to me and said, “We really must go, Mr. di Pietro. Bring your lover and follow me.”
He left the kitchen, but the men with guns remained. I didn’t know what to do, but when I turned to Armando, he got up and took my hand. “Let’s go,” he whispered. “We can’t let them hurt your family.”
Another thug was waiting by the front door, holding our overnight bags. He said, “I need your phones,” and when we handed them over, he opened the door and followed us out.
There were two black SUVs with tinted windows double-parked in the street.
My heart was pounding, and Armando’s breath sounded quick and shallow beside me as we slowly walked to the vehicle the thug indicated.
I wracked my brain, trying to think of some solution to this, but I came up empty.
There were still men inside the house with guns pointed at my family, and if we tried anything, someone might get hurt.
I had to believe a chance to escape would present itself at some point, but all we could do for now was follow instructions.
We climbed into the back seat, and the man with our bags shut the door behind us, which locked automatically.
There were two men in the front seats. The one who wasn’t driving held up a gun and said, “Don’t get any ideas.
I don’t want to shoot you, because it’s a pain in the ass to get blood stains out of leather upholstery. ”
Once the SUV started moving, I turned to Armando and said, “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Armando whispered, “What’s going on, Tory? I feel like I’m in a nightmare that I can’t wake up from.”
“Remember when you and I agreed to make up fake back stories?” When he nodded, I said, “I… didn’t.”
“What?”
“That was all true. I really was an art forger. I worked for my uncle, who trained me from the time I was fifteen. He was in charge. He hired thieves to steal artwork and replace it with my forgeries. This went on for years, until he tried to rip off a very powerful man named Ashcroft. Our thief got caught, and I’ve been on the run ever since. Or, I was. Until today.”
Armando slumped in his seat and whispered, “I really am in a nightmare.”
“Again, I’m so sorry. I really believed they couldn’t find me, so I didn’t think I was putting you in danger.” Instead of replying, he wrapped his arms around himself, turned his head, and stared out the window.
I felt nauseous. As bad as this was, the fact that he’d gotten dragged into it made it a thousand times worse.
Sometime later, we arrived at a small airport. A private jet was waiting on the tarmac. When we climbed out of the SUV, the man who’d taken our phones joined us. He handed me our bags, which were unzipped and had obviously been searched, and accompanied us to the plane.
We found Cavendish waiting for us when we boarded, along with three armed men, who were sitting expressionlessly by the door to the cockpit.
He was seated at a small table, and he gestured at the two seats opposite him.
When we sat down, he smiled pleasantly and said, “Now, let’s get down to business. ”
“Not before I know my family is okay.”
“Fair enough.” He took our phones from his pocket and said, “I’ll hold it, if you don’t mind. Go ahead and call Mr. Dombruso. Put it on speaker.”
I reached across the table, unlocked my phone, and called Dante, who answered with, “Are you and Armando okay, Sal?”
“So far. What about you, Nana, and Bunny?”
“We’re fine, although Nana is spitting mad. Those men left five minutes after you did. Where are you?”
“On a plane with Cavendish. I have no idea where we’re going.”
Cavendish turned the phone to face him and said, “As long as Mr. di Pietro cooperates, we have every intention of returning him and his lover to you safe and sound. Now, be a dear and don’t cause trouble, for his sake.”
Dante started to say something, but Cavendish ended the call and pocketed the phone. I asked, “How long are you planning to keep us prisoner?”
“Now, now. ‘Prisoner’ is such a dramatic way to describe our arrangement.”
“What would you call it?” I glanced at Armando during this exchange. He looked pale, and he was back to sitting perfectly still.
“I’d call it giving you the opportunity to wipe the slate clean. You took part in an attempt to steal from Mr. Ashcroft. That action has consequences. But because he’s a fair man, he’s graciously allowing you to make amends, instead of paying with a pound of flesh.”
“So, you’re not taking us somewhere to kill us?”
“If Mr. Ashcroft wanted you dead, his men would have shot you the moment we entered the kitchen.”
“Then what does he want from me?”
“This.” He pulled a binder from a briefcase and slid it across the table.
When I opened it, I found a photograph of a painting that was clearly by Paul Cezanne.
It featured a woman in a blue dress, seated beside a table holding an overflowing bowl of fruit.
Cezanne’s paintings were usually landscapes, figure studies, or still lifes, but this was rare, since it featured two of those elements.
The rest of the pages in the binder were close-up details of the painting, along with a fact sheet listing, among other things, the painting’s size and provenance.
“I assumed it would be beneficial for you to study this on your flight,” Cavendish explained.
“Large scale photos will be available in the studio that was set up for you in anticipation of today’s events, along with a canvas and paints that were painstakingly sourced by an expert.
” In other words, they’d always known it was just a matter of time until they caught me.
“So, he wants me to forge this painting.”
“Precisely.”
“Why doesn’t Ashcroft just buy it, or have it stolen? He obviously has the means to do either of those things.”
Cavendish leaned back and folded his hands in his lap.
“That painting was Mr. Ashcroft’s pride and joy.
Regrettably, he lost it in a bitter divorce, and it’s now in the possession of his ex-wife.
She knows nothing about art and keeps it solely out of spite.
If Mr. Ashcroft were to have it stolen, she’d know who to blame and wouldn’t hesitate to involve the authorities.
She’d also get a hundred million dollar payout from the insurance company.
My employer believes she’s taken enough and doesn’t deserve another cent. ”
“Just so you know, I can’t do the breaking and entering to switch the original with the forgery. I don’t have those skills.”
“We know that,” Cavendish said. “All we want from you is a perfect copy. Once it’s completed, someone else will handle the switch-out.”
“Am I really supposed to believe Ashcroft will let us go when I finish the painting?”
“You have my word.”
I couldn’t help but smirk. “You pointed guns at my family members and abducted us against our will. How much do you think your word is worth?”
He was completely unruffled by that. “The weapons were simply a means to an end. Would you have come along willingly without them?” I didn’t say anything, but my frown answered the question for me.
“Yes, exactly. You would have run away, and we would have had to expend more time and resources to find you. That was a bit of a bother, and something we’d rather not repeat. ”
“I’ll go with you willingly and do the forgery,” I said, “on one condition. You let my boyfriend walk away, right now, and swear no harm will come to him.”