Smokescreen, page 20
“And that painting you did of the Paris café, was it on one of those odd-sized canvases?”
Taylor nodded. She shifted to look at Quinn. “And so was the other one that was stolen.”
“You might be right,” Tristan said to Vanessa. “All of the pieces support your theory.”
“What theory?” Quinn asked.
Vanessa looked from Quinn to Taylor and then back at Quinn again. “This is all hypothetical, but you need to realize that it’s still considered classified. The only reason I’m willing to share this with you is that you’re all so deeply involved.” She shifted her attention to Taylor again. “Taylor, you can’t say anything about this to anyone.”
“I understand.” Taylor nodded. “But I need to know who I’m hiding from.”
Vanessa nodded. Then slowly she explained how Taylor fit together with the many other pieces of the puzzle.
31
“I’m still not sure I understand all of this,” Taylor said, her mind struggling to keep up with all of the technical jargon. “Exactly what are they supposed to be smuggling in my paintings?”
“The information I was given yesterday shows that we’re dealing with several different pieces of equipment, some as small as a flash drive or a credit card, and others long and thin like pieces of computer cable,” Vanessa told her. “If I’m right and they’re smuggling them within the framing of your paintings, our guess is that it would take anywhere from six to ten canvases to transport all of the pieces.”
Taylor tried to absorb the information, overwhelmed by the realization that her art was being used as a delivery method. “When would they get this stuff inside my canvases?”
“My guess is that they were already inside when you purchased the canvases,” Vanessa told her. “They were probably reserved for you, and you just didn’t realize it.”
“What we need to determine is how many of your paintings could already be in their possession,” Quinn told her. “We know that they have at least the two that were stolen.”
Vanessa nodded. “And Taylor said that the gallery owner already purchased at least one of her paintings.”
“But why did they steal those other two? Why didn’t they just buy them like the first one?” Tristan asked.
“They didn’t get the chance,” Taylor spoke up. “A few of my paintings never made it into open listings. Evan Bridgeton saw the photos of several of my paintings before they were ever shipped stateside. He decided he wanted to do a private showing with me, so I started sending all of my paintings to his gallery instead of to my agent.”
“How many paintings did you do on that canvas size?”
“I don’t know, eight or ten,” Taylor told them. “I remember they gave me a deal that if I bought a certain number, they’d give me two free. When my household effects catch up with me, I’ll be able to tell you exactly how many because I can look it up on my receipts.”
“When are those supposed to arrive?”
Vanessa answered for her. “The CIA is diverting the shipment. It should be here within the next couple of days.”
Taylor pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. “I can try calling Felicia. She should have a detailed inventory of everything she’s sold.”
“Including the sizes?”
“Probably.”
“Call her,” Vanessa agreed. “Just don’t tell her why we need the information.”
“Actually, we should already have most of that info,” Quinn interrupted. He looked at Taylor sheepishly. “I got copies of your sales records when we were at your agent’s office.”
“How did you do that?” Taylor asked. “And why did you do that?”
“I thought we might need the info eventually.” Quinn shrugged. “As for how, you probably don’t want to know.”
“Great,” Taylor muttered. “Now I’ve got you guys spying on my agent.”
“He was gathering useful information,” Tristan corrected.
“That’s right.” Quinn nodded, virtuously grabbing the lifeline Tristan had thrown him. “I was gathering useful information.”
A little smile appeared on Taylor’s face before she managed to fight it. “Well, let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Be right back.” Quinn left the room and returned a moment later with a paper in his hand, along with the photos of Taylor’s paintings. Then he motioned to the dining room. “Let’s take this in there so we can spread these out on the table.”
Everyone stood and followed him into the dining room where he was already spreading out the photographs of the paintings that had been sold. Quinn looked up at Taylor. “Can you remember which were on the odd-sized canvases?”
Taylor stared down at the photos and then reached down and moved several aside. “These were all sold at the showing in Paris, so I know I bought those supplies in Italy.” She then pulled one toward her. “This one is the first one I did on one of those canvases.”
Quinn looked down at the sheet he held and made a note in the margin. Then he pushed a photo toward her. “What about this one?”
She recognized it as one of those she had painted in Paris right before coming home. “Yeah, that’s one too.”
“And this one?” Quinn asked.
“No, that one was a standard size.”
One by one, Quinn pushed the photos toward her, slowly helping her sort through them. When she had finally identified the last one, she looked up at him. “How many are there?”
“Seven,” Quinn told her, his face uncharacteristically hard. “The same buyer purchased all of them.” Quinn shifted his attention to Taylor. “It was Gregorio Amici.”
“Gregorio?” Taylor’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
Quinn nodded, and he motioned to her bag. “I want you to call Felicia. See if she knew that Gregorio was coming by the day we were at her office.”
“It’s Saturday.”
“She gave you her cell phone number. Use it,” Quinn insisted.
“Okay.” Taylor grabbed her cell phone and made the call. When Felicia answered on the fourth ring, Taylor found herself apologizing. “Felicia, I’m so sorry to bother you on the weekend, but I need to ask you a quick question.”
“No problem, Taylor. What is it?”
“Did you know Gregorio was coming by the day that I was at your office?”
“No, he just dropped in. Why? Is there a problem?”
“I was just wondering. I thought it was odd that he happened to be there when we were.”
“It was pretty strange. Up until a few months ago, he never used to come into our offices at all. We always went to see him,” Felicia told her.
Taylor felt her stomach sink. “Thanks, Felicia. I hope you enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
“You too.”
Ignoring the mystified tone of Felicia’s voice, Taylor hung up the phone and looked at the inquisitive faces staring at her. “She said he didn’t have an appointment that day. She also said that up until a few months ago, he never used to come into her office at all.”
“And you said he might have been the one who told you where to buy those canvases?” Vanessa asked.
Taylor nodded.
“It sounds like we have enough on Gregorio Amici to have him brought in for questioning,” Vanessa said. “I’ll get the ball rolling to have him picked up.”
“You realize that if the two stolen paintings were the ones they were missing, they could have all of the pieces in their possession,” Tristan stated.
“I don’t think so.” Vanessa shook her head.
“Why not?” Quinn asked.
“Because the paintings were stolen before we caught that guy in Tristan’s condo. They’re still looking for one, and they don’t know where it is.”
Taylor looked at Vanessa wide-eyed. “What happened at Tristan’s condo?” She noticed Tristan and Quinn guiltily exchange knowing looks. “What didn’t you tell me?”
“There was some trouble the night we stayed at your parents’ place,” Tristan told her.
“We didn’t want to worry you,” Quinn added.
Taylor shook her head, fighting back annoyance and fear. “What happened?”
“It was similar to what happened with your car,” Quinn said, choosing his words carefully. “It looks like the guy was trying to look through your paintings, probably trying to find out if you had the one they were missing.”
“Did he say why he was there? Or who sent him?” Taylor asked. Then she noticed the way both men glanced at the floor before looking over at Vanessa. Taylor shifted her attention to look at Vanessa. “He’s dead?”
Vanessa nodded.
Taylor brought a hand up to cover her mouth. Quinn stepped closer and slipped his arms around her. Despite her frustration, Taylor let him pull her into a comforting embrace.
“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered softly into her ear. Then, still keeping an arm around her waist, he pulled away and looked at Vanessa. “What do we do now that we know there’s a missing piece still out there?”
“I think your weekend is about to be cut short.” Vanessa gave Quinn an apologetic look. “Graham is pushing to let your squad go in and get Riesenour.”
“A snatch and grab in Paris?” Tristan asked.
“He’s not in Paris,” Vanessa said. “Our latest intel shows he’s in Abolstan.”
“Great,” Quinn muttered.
Taylor looked at Vanessa with confusion. “I thought we pulled our troops out of Abolstan.”
Vanessa looked at Taylor as though just realizing she was still there. “I’m going to have to take Taylor back into headquarters for a debriefing.”
“You can take her in and talk to her, but after that, we need to move Taylor into a safe house,” Quinn said.
Vanessa looked over at him apologetically. “As much as I agree with you that Taylor needs to hide someplace safe, I doubt we’ll be able to get a safe house approved.”
“Why not?” Quinn asked, his eyes darkening. “She’s already had someone come after her at least twice that we know of.”
“Someone’s come after her paintings twice,” Vanessa corrected. “Taylor isn’t a key witness to any crime, and no one has actually threatened her.”
“Bureaucracy at work,” Tristan muttered.
“I’m more than happy to hide out somewhere, but I really do need to have my art supplies with me,” Taylor said, her mind still reeling from the reality of why her art had been selling so quickly. Even as her confidence wavered, she stood a little straighter and added, “I have a show to get ready for, and it’s time I get back to work. Besides, I need to do something to keep my mind off of all of this.”
“As crazy as it sounds, the safest place for you is probably at your new apartment,” Vanessa commented. “The security system hasn’t gone off once since you’ve been out of town, and Seth’s dropped by a couple of times and said there hasn’t been any suspicious activity there.”
“Are you sure?” Taylor asked skeptically. “You said someone broke into Riley and Tristan’s place, and that’s only a couple of blocks away.”
“Yeah, but whoever has been looking for your painting now knows that you aren’t staying there anymore. Besides, the security system at your apartment is probably better than anywhere else you’d consider staying.”
“Riley is going to stay at your parents’ house for another week or so,” Tristan said. “It sounds like this thing may be coming to a head soon, so hopefully it won’t be long before I’m comfortable taking her back home.”
“Did you want to stay with Riley instead?” Quinn asked.
Taylor shook her head. “If you really think my apartment is safe, I’d rather stay there since that’s where all of my supplies are.”
“I need to get back to headquarters.” Vanessa stood. “Taylor, I really need you to come with me. You’ve been privy to information that is highly classified. The agency is going to need to talk to you about what you know and what you are allowed to do with that information.”
Vanessa turned to Quinn. “I can bring Taylor back after her debriefings.”
Taylor looked from Vanessa to Quinn, wishing she could ask him to come with her. As much as she wanted her life to get back to normal, having Quinn with her made her feel safe.
“Go with Vanessa,” Quinn told her gently. “As soon as you get back, we’ll get ready to head back to Virginia Beach.”
Taylor nodded. “Okay.”
“I’ll talk to you later.” Quinn leaned down for a brief kiss.
Taylor expected to see some kind of reaction from Vanessa and Tristan after Quinn kissed her in front of them, but surprisingly, they seemed unaffected, as though they expected Quinn to kiss her good-bye.
Quinn turned to Vanessa. “I don’t have to tell you not to take her anywhere else.”
“I’ll keep her safe,” Vanessa promised. She nodded at Quinn and Tristan and then escorted Taylor out the door.
32
“Abolstan,” Quinn said the minute Vanessa closed the door behind her and Taylor. He sank down onto one of the dining room chairs and shook his head. After taking Taylor to Emily’s gravesite, his emotions were raw, emotions he wasn’t ready to deal with right now. Instead, he focused his energy on the immediate threat of keeping Taylor safe.
“Riesenour sure picked his safe haven well.” Tristan sat down across from him. “If it weren’t for the fact that we’ve already infiltrated those borders a couple of times, the powers that be would never consider sending anyone in. I have a feeling Vanessa’s right. Our weekend is about to be cut short.”
Quinn nodded. “Yeah. Lucky us.”
“What’s eating at you?” Tristan leaned back in his chair. “Normally you don’t care where we go or when.”
“Normally my girlfriend isn’t responsible for smuggling equipment into the country that could potentially wipe out our nation’s financial system, not to mention the riots and chaos that would come afterward.”
Tristan stared across the table at him for several seconds. “Yeah, that’s a pretty good excuse. Almost believable.”
Quinn forced himself to look Tristan in the eye. “What are you talking about?”
“Tell me what’s going on with Taylor,” Tristan insisted.
Quinn tensed and prepared to redirect the conversation, but before he could respond, Tristan held up a hand. “And I don’t mean all of this stuff that involves smuggling. What’s going on with you and Taylor?”
Quinn rubbed a hand over his face before looking back at Tristan. “I still can’t believe I did it. I took her with me to visit Emily.”
Tristan’s eyes widened. “Wow. I didn’t expect that.”
“Why not? Just this morning you were bugging me to tell her about Emily.”
“Yeah, but this is huge. You don’t even like me to go with you to visit Emily.” Tristan shook his head. “I knew you were in love with Taylor, but I guess I didn’t realize things were moving along so fast. I guess you’ll be planning a wedding before too much longer.”
Quinn’s eyes narrowed. “I never said I was getting married.”
“Sure you did. I just missed all of the signs. I also never realized that you fell for her before she even left for Europe last year,” Tristan said as Quinn shook his head in denial. “Think about it. How many dates did you go on while Taylor was in Europe?”
“Am I supposed to be counting?”
“It’s kind of hard not to when you can count them all on one hand and still have fingers to spare,” Tristan told him.
“Just drop it, okay?”
“What’s your problem?” Tristan pressed. “Riley kept me pretty up to date with Taylor’s life while she was gone. She didn’t date any more than you did.”
Quinn let himself consider Tristan’s words despite the fear that shot through him. He did love Taylor, but what would he do if something happened to her? Surviving the loss of Emily was still something he struggled with daily. He couldn’t imagine losing Taylor too. He thought of how she had acted when she saw Emily’s name, when she realized that the woman lying in the cold, hard ground was his wife.
He lifted his eyes to meet Tristan’s. “I didn’t expect her to act this way.”
“Act what way?”
“I thought Taylor would be mad that I never told her I’d been married before.”
“Was she?”
“No.” Quinn shook his head. “She saw Emily’s name, and she looked at me like she was about to cry, not because she looked mad or anything. It was almost like she just found out one of her friends had died.” Quinn shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Maybe she just felt sorry for me.”
“Of course Taylor felt sorry for you. She just found out that your wife is dead,” Tristan said, pointing out the obvious.
“My wife that she didn’t know existed until this morning.”
“What do you want me to say?” Tristan asked now. “Taylor’s a great girl. I think she’s as in love with you as you are with her. The question is, when are you going to do something about it?”
“There’s nothing to do about it. I’m not looking to replace Emily,” Quinn told him, even as he wondered what it would be like to be married again.
“Taylor isn’t the kind of girl who would try to replace Emily,” Tristan countered. “But maybe it’s time you start thinking about building a future for yourself that includes more than just the navy.”
Quinn pushed away from the table before Tristan could continue with the familiar lecture. “Don’t start on me about what Emily would want. I don’t need that right now.”
“I don’t need to tell you what Emily would want.” Tristan stood up, his face serious. “You already know. You’re just afraid to admit it.”
Quinn clenched his fists, an irritating feeling of vulnerability seeping through him. Before he could respond, the door opened, and his dad walked in.
“Hey there,” David Lambert greeted them. “What are you two up to today?”
Tristan looked at him apologetically. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to take off for Virginia Beach this afternoon.”
