Page 68 of The Twilight Theft

Jayce took my hand and gave two taps with one of her fingers—not her pinky and not her thumb. “Showtime.”

Liana’s voice rose above all the others, and a hush fell over the room. “I’m sure you’re all wondering what I’ve been hiding. No one, not even my husband, has seen this masterpiece.”

“Pretty full of herself?” said someone we passed.

I wouldn’t argue, but from what I’d seen of Liana, she was a humble, wonderful woman. Despite her background studying law, she had the free spirit of an artist. She devoted a great deal of time to her charity work. But tonight, her goal was raising money, and she’d put on a performance that increased how much.

“As you all know, the theme for this evening is the merging of art and technology. I labored in secret for six long months, preparing. And now, I give you…” With the multiple rings of people surrounding her, it was hard to tell what she was doing, but she held her arms wide. The black tarp covering her sculpture flew to the ceiling, as though pulled by invisible strings. “Digital Twilight.”

Gasps and applause filled the room.

As expected, it was ten feet tall. A black cylinder with grooves and indentations to make it look like a burned tree, with glowing amber sections of what must have been resin or plastic, covering it. It resembled sap running out of the tree.

The metal dragonfly stuck out from the side, its legs encased in sap, and its wings and head free.

“I’m too short,” grumbled Jayce. “I can only see the top of it. What am I missing?”

“We’ll have to get you closer.” There were too many people surrounding the sculpture. And what about the chip? Craig had said it was embedded in the dragonfly’s head. How secure was it? “It’s basically a dragonfly getting caught in tree sap. The chip is in its head.”

Jayce squirreled up her face. “Are we sure about this threat?”

“What do you mean?”

“How is someone going to make off with that? Or does the chip come out somehow?” She opened her clutch, fished around inside, and closed it again. “Maybe the threats simply meant they were going to vandalize it? Glue their hands to it? Throw soup on it?”

I put my arm around her back. They were all valid concerns, but without a better look, we’d still have more questions than answers. “Get your tracker out. Even if it’s unlikely, you said we treat it like everything’s possible, right?”

She turned her hand over, showing me the tiny metallic dot wedged between her fingers. “Two steps ahead of you.”

We wove through partygoers, a blur of colors, fabrics, and jewels. Voices in various languages. People excited to attend, next to those bored by the same old same old.

And Vanessa, who was watching us again.

“Be careful on the approach. Vanessa is taking an interest in you.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not me,” muttered Jayce. She picked up her pace, almost losing me between a pair of women in black dresses with far too many diamonds. They stared at her as she walked through their line of conversation, her focus laser set on the sculpture.

I apologized to them on her behalf. I’d have to find out what happened between her and Vanessa. Her mood was growing progressively worse the longer we were here. Unless something was happening on her comms I didn’t know about?

Brushing my fingers through my hair, I covertly tapped my earpiece. Unlike while we were at the back of the room, there were too many eyes near the hub of activity. “How is everyone doing? Jayce is acting rattled. Is something going on with the Reynolds team I should know about?”

Wyatt was the first to answer. “Other than her missing out on my company for the evening?”

Zaria opened her comms channel to laugh at us. “Let me know when the two of you are going to whip them out to compare. I’ll see if I can find a tape measure.”

Yeah, this job had been a terrible mistake. But as Malcolm had said earlier, it was too late to do anything about it now.

I shouldered my way between a senator and his aide and finally caught up with Jayce, who was only a few feet away from Digital Twilight. I grabbed her hips from behind and slowed her down, leaning to her ear without the earpiece. “You need to stay with me. I know you’re not used to working the floor, but we’re a team. “

“Then maybe you should try to keep up.”

“What’s going on? Why are you acting like this?”

“Professionals, remember? I’m doing our job.” She twisted out of my grip and inched closer to her target.

No matter how fast her hands were, she would have to touch the sculpture to plant the tracker. And not just any part of the sculpture—she’d have to touch the dragonfly’s head. People would see it and someone would try to stop her.

What could I do? Create a diversion?

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