Page 29 of Maximus

“Then let’s get started.” She looked at the Chagall. “I have a small area at the back of the vault where I keep a few items. We can take this canvas there and obscure it from view, just in case Abrasha makes a surprise visit.”

“Then let’s do it.” He was ready to get to work. “What would we need?”

“A climate-controlled container. The canvases will probably return to their rolled position, especially those stored in these frames for years, so it doesn’t need to be very big. We can cushion them with foam crating. I have that for shipment of Abrasha’s paintings to and from his residences.”

Max cocked his head. “Residences, as in plural?”

She stared at the painting in front of her but said to him, “Yes, he has several outside of Russia. I routinely refresh his collections and send out different paintings. Then, I go to the residences, change the art, ensure it is displayed correctly, and ship the replaced canvases or statues back here.”

“I’ll need those addresses.”

She swung her gaze to him. “To get the art back after he’s arrested.” She nodded. “That makes sense. I have all of them on my computer.”

Max smiled, not saying a word. That wasn’t the only reason he needed the addresses. They had no known residences on record for Molchalin outside of Russia, and the address they had in Russia was guarded like Fort Knox. That was why they were taking him at the showing—his weakest link. The other residences could hold a treasure trove of information that could forward worldwide investigations.

“Are you ready?” She carefully picked up the felted board, giving it the excessive care the painting deserved. He stood and took the board from her until she stood, and then he gave it back to her. He followed her to a small corner with a shelving unit. He moved the items she indicated, and they set the now curling canvas on the shelf. Elena used smaller boxes lined toward the front of the shelving unit to mask the canvas. “The entire vault is environmentally controlled, so it should be fine until we can get it to a safer place.”

He faced Elena and put his finger under her chin. She was glowing and radiant even with the burst blood vessels in her eyes. She loved art. It wasn’t an act or a job for her. It was a conviction that flowed through her entire being. “The thought of saving these works of art is special to you, isn’t it?”

She drew a deep breath and smiled at him. “This could be the reason I was put on the earth at this point in time. Saving these paintings could be the reason Iexist.”

He stared down at her. She was beautiful inside and out. “I can think of another reason you were placed here at this point in time.”

She swallowed hard. “You can?”

“I can.” He lowered his lips to hers and brushed them softly. “Perhaps the paintings were a secondary reason.” He dipped down and kissed her again, that time parting her willing lips. The taste of her was something he’d never get enough of, and that was a fact he knew despite objective reasoning.

A jangling trill ripped through the vault. Elena jerked away from him. “The delivery is early. That’s the loading dock bell.” She grabbed his hand. “Come with me?”

“Always.” And he meant that, too—screw objective reasoning. For the first time in his life, he would go with what his emotions told him. It wasn’t liberating for him because that prickly, itchy feeling was too close to the surface. The hatredand anger for Sokolov and the mission to eliminate Abrasha were never far away. The first would be a pleasure to eliminate, and the second, a requirement. He needed to talk to the other Shadows on the case. Elena was to be protected from the situation at all costs. She couldn’t see him kill either man. He had to have a future with her, and killing those two bastards could eliminate any chance he had at one with her.

CHAPTER 13

Max sat at his desk and watched Elena work. He picked up his cell phone, tapped his earpiece, and put the phone to his ear so she would think he was talking on the device and not through his comms system.

“Dude, what the hell do you need a frame for?” Con asked as a way of greeting.

“You can forget about that for the time being. The frame contained a Chagall reported as stolen during World War II. Elena found a registry of stolen artwork, and it was listed.”

“So, the dude is smuggling in stolen art.” That was Reaper.

“That’s correct.”

“How many works do you have?”

“We believe thirteen, but we haven’t opened the other frames. It’s a matter of preservation of the art and proper restoration to a frame. Elena doesn’t have that ability, and it would take me longer than two weeks to perfect the skills to do it.”

“No shit,” Con said. “Try two decades.”

Max rolled his eyes. Of course, the man had no idea who he was talking to. Elena glanced at him and smiled but returned towork tracking the provenance of the found canvas. He wanted to have it in case the powers that be at Guardian needed it.

“Right, anyway, contact Archangel and inform him of what we have. Getting them out of the country is the right thing to do; we should do it sooner rather than later. Elena is concerned about the deterioration of the canvases and paint due to the storage, and some of them have been here for three years.”

“I can do that. Send me any information you have on the picture,” Con said.

“Painting.”

“Potato-Po-tot-oh.” Con came back. “We can confirm Abrasha is still in China.”

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