Page 149 of Stuart Woods' Smolder

The woman nodded. “He hasn’t slept since you spoke to him yesterday.”

“That doesn’t sound like painting.”

“He’s building a box to hold the pictures.”

Downstairs, they found Rudy crouched at the open end of a large crate, examining the inside. Leaning against the wall beyond him were three paintings.

“Rudy?” Stone said.

The man jumped at the sound of his name and whirled around. “You’re…you’re back.”

“As we said we would be.”

“What’s with the women?”

“Theladiescould be the difference between you serving a five- or twenty-year sentence.”

“They aren’t cops, are they?”

“Not anymore,” Viv said.

Rudy swallowed hard.

Monica’s brow furrowed. “Hold on.”

She walked past Rudy to the canvases leaning against the wall and brushed the tip of a finger against one of them.

Rushing over, Rudy yelled, “Careful!”

He pushed her away and leaned in for a closer look. The spot she’d touched now sported a tiny smudge.

“Dammit.”

He went over to one of his worktables, grabbed a few items, and returned to the damaged painting, then set to work fixing it.

“What tipped you off these were the fakes?” Stone asked Monica.

“I’ve been studying up on your mother’s work, and I knew something was off.”

“And here I thought I was the only one who could tell that quickly.”

“Is that another way of saying I continue to impress you?”

“One could interpret it that way.”

Rudy took a step back and studied his patch job, then faced the others. “Please, do not touch any of the paintings.”

“If they can be ruined so easily, no one’s going to believe they’re real,” Monica said.

“The other two are fine. This one will be dry enough by pickup time. Well, except for that spot, thank you very much.”

“The box is for them?” Stone asked.

Rudy nodded once.

“Simon’s still coming at noon?”

“As far as I know.”

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