Page 50 of The Twilight Theft

“You’re psychoanalyzing again.” And definitely wrong. Stealing bigger and bigger things, plus a few minor arrests, was about expressing my independence, not seeking my mother’s attention.

“What else am I going to do at midnight two days out from the mission? Sleep?” He pretended to yawn, stretching his arms. “We should head to the hotel. I’ll handle Drew—and my sister—tomorrow.”

I stood with him, waving the chocolate bar. “Let me pay for this first.”

Chapter 20

Drew

I’dthoughtIwasdistracted before last night.

But then Jayce ran off, ignoring every call I made to convince her to come back.

At least Emmett had taken my call, but hisShe’s finetext at one in the morning was significantly less than I’d wanted. I’d had a fitful night, going over every moment she’d been at my place, searching for an explanation for her erratic behavior.

She’s chaos personified, Drew. Don’t bother looking.

I paced the length of the restaurant, rain pelting the tall windows. Most of the tables had been cleared to make way for a dance floor. At the western end, overlooking the fountain and the square, the staff had added a two-foot-high platform for the band and announcements. The Mosaic staff who’d dominated the space on Wednesday had all but vanished, replaced by the blonde event planner overseeing the last few paintings and sculptures being placed for maximum financial gain.

At the eastern end of the main restaurant, I peeked into the banquet room. The Reynolds team hadn’t arrived yet, but Craig and Wyatt had. The patio doors along the southern wall were all closed against the rain, and I hadn’t seen either of them come in the main entrance, so they must have used the staff entrance to the north, closer to the parking garage.

“Drew!” Craig waved me in and the three of us walked over to a man installing a four-foot-high pedestal where the northernmost X had been on the floor. “This is George. He tells me this podium is being built with a small acrylic stand at the top of it.”

“For the scarab?” I asked.

Craig nodded. “I just got off the phone with Liana. She still wants to install the VIP items tonight.”

The Tremaines were holding a vernissage this evening—a private, low-key viewing for the people with the deepest wallets—ahead of tomorrow night’s gala. No alcohol, no food, no music, simply a tour of whatever pieces they were interested in and discussions with the artists. Then at the gala, the Tremaines would already know who wanted what and how badly, allowing them to stroke egos and incite bidding wars. Everyone knew that was the tactic, but the ones who’d be attending tonight were more than happy to be part of it.

“Did you shut her down?” I’d already discussed this with her. She told me the plan on Wednesday after Jayce’s initial departure, and I’d said no. She’d argued it was too much for her team to do on Saturday before the event. I’d told her to get more staff.

“She said the scarab and the bird were small enough they could be brought in, then returned to their secure locations overnight.”

“But not the chip?” asked Wyatt. “Isn’t it only two inches wide?”

Craig inclined his head and we walked toward the glass wall overlooking the river. A half-dozen people bustled around the room, heading in and out through various doors, and the sounds of drills and saws hummed in the background. Still, Craig lowered his voice. “I got a look at her sculpture this morning. She told me not to tell anyone, but it’s huge.”

“Photos?” I asked.

Craig frowned. “The sculpture itself is a metal dragonfly about four feet across, mounted on the side of…” He swung his hands up and down, as though trying to describe it visually. “A giant tree trunk. It’s ten feet tall and must weigh several hundred pounds.”

Wyatt frowned. “Where’s the chip gonna be?”

Craig’s eyebrows rose and he shook his head in disbelief. “Embedded inside the dragonfly’s head.”

Wyatt mirrored Craig’s expression. “Why are we worried about someone taking it, then?”

“With enough force, someone might be able to dislodge it, but I—”

“Sorry we’re late.” Scarlett entered with Jayce and Emmett. “Rav and Malcolm are double-checking the lower floor and emergency stairwell.”

“Ladies.” Wyatt’s extra twang appeared. “And Emmett.”

The Reynolds group joined us by the windows, with more nods than hellos. Scarlett and Emmett were in dark suits, matching my team’s formality. Jayce stood between the two siblings, directly opposite me. Per usual, she was in skintight jeans with a dark T-shirt and black running shoes—always ready to bolt. Her pants were damp below the knee, so she must have hung up a rain jacket when she arrived.

“We should have a security patrol down there,” Jayce said to Craig. “Explosives would be messy, but if the thieves don’t care about a mess, blowing a hole in the floor to get the chip is an option.”

“How many options does your team think there are?” I asked.

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