Page 41 of Maximus

“What do you normally do for a showing?”

She drew a breath and said, “We must go to Krasnaya Polyana tomorrow. I’ll inspect the rooms we will use and talk with the manager about additional security that Abrasha requires. My carpentry team will set up the backings, and electricians will run the lighting the next day. The art is exclusively from Abrasha’s Sochi compound. The paintings will arrive the day before the showing. We’ll stay there and ensure the placement is perfect. The lodge is responsible for security, although Sokolov and his people will be there whenever Abrasha arrives and during the transportation of the art.”

“Do you need to crate it before it is shipped?”

“No, that was done before I met you. Sokolov or his people will direct the transportation company to the crates, and they will follow the truck there.”

“And the night of the event?”

She laughed. “I stress. There always seems to be something that goes wrong. The caterer doesn’t have the right champagne, a string of lights goes dark, or Abrasha demands another painting shown at the last moment.” She shrugged. “But this time, I will be scared.”

“You will never be in danger.”

“I know. But what if I lose sight of the woman …”

“Val.”

She nodded. Val. Why couldn’t she remember the woman’s name? Lord. She was a nervous wreck already.

“It will be her job to keep close to you. Do what you normally do, but when she indicates it’s time to leave, do it. Make whatever excuses you need to make, but go.”

“Okay.” She glanced at him. “You’ll be okay?”

He smiled and winked at her. “You bet.”

“You’re so confident.” She dropped her head to his shoulder and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her shoulders.

“Training,” he said, and she made a humming sound. That was why she was confident in her work. She was constantly learning. There was always some knowledge to glean from the past or current work in the field.

Her cell phone chimed, and she frowned and pulled it out of her purse. “Abrasha.” She answered it. “Yes?”

“I’ve changed the date of the shipment to Greece to tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” She glanced at Max. “The company came to pick them up the day before yesterday as was your directive.”

There was a long silence, and then he swore. “Can you get them back?”

“I could try. Is there a problem?”

“Someone wanted to inspect one of the paintings,” Abrasha mumbled something under his breath.

“When?”

“During the showing.”

“Even if I called them back now, they might not be back in time for that.”

Abrasha let out a low string of horrible words before he hung up.

She blinked and repeated the conversation to Max. “I’m not sure if I’m to turn them back or not?”

“Let’s go to the office.”

She sighed and accepted his hand. “See what I mean about last minute things going wrong?”

He chuckled and offered her his arm. “This isn’t a concern. By the time the paintings return or arrive in Greece, Abrasha won’t be worried about them.”

She glanced up at him. “No, he won’t, will he?” A lightness lifted her a bit, and she immediately felt horrid because she knew Abrasha wouldn’t live past the night of the showing, which was a heavy burden. She should be appalled by the thought. She should want to warn him and stop the violent swipe of justice from being dealt, but after reading the proof of his horrendous deeds, seeing the photos, and getting to know Max, she didn’t feel the need to warn the murderer. Did that make her a horrible person? Did it diminish her morality? Perhaps. But it was something she could live with.

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