Page 83 of Girl, Sought

‘Who’s we?’

‘CVG.’

‘Why?’

‘Having your own museum has its… advantages.’

Ella thought about everything Gabriel Thorne had told her about the little tax evasion scheme they had running. If the Curated Value Group had their own museum, they could basically write off as much in tax as they wanted. Find an item, give it a high value, donate it to themselves. It would take a little creativity, but people pulled similar scams all over America every day.

And not only that, but owning a museum would've given Vanessa's business a veneer of respectability, an air of cultural importance that went beyond appraisals and consignment shops. It would've made them kingmakers in the collecting world and gatekeepers to a whole new level of fat cat dick-measuring.

And Lawrence Winters, with his boxed-up resentments and seething inadequacies, must have seen that coming from a mile away. Must have looked at Vanessa's empire-building and seen red, seen his own pitiful little life rendered even more insignificant in comparison.

Something told Ella that there was more to this arson attack than the news had reported, but that was a problem for another day.

‘Winters. He knew about this museum, right?’

She nodded. ‘Very much.’

‘The museum. Is it far from here?’

‘Ten...minutes. Straight up...the highway.’ Every word was an effort, forced out through a throat that had to feel like it was lined with crushed glass.

‘I need an address, Vanessa, because there’s a chance that Winters is hiding there.’

‘3500...Waterfront Drive.’

‘How do I get in?’

‘Window.’

Ella placed a hand on her knee. She might not like the woman, might even suspect her of playing fast and loose with the legalities of her little appraisal racket. But she wouldn't wish this kind of brutality on anyone.

‘I’ll be back soon. These medics will take good care of you.’

‘Take my car,’ Vanessa rasped. ‘Keys are… on the table.’

Ella squeezed. ‘Thank you.’

She grabbed the keys, rushed out of the house, and found a black Mercedes waiting for her. Ella plucked out her cell – which was still connected to her partner.

‘Hawkins, you catch all that?’

‘Every word. Are you going there now?’

‘Yeah. I have to. I know you wanted to be the one to bring this guy down, but…’

‘Ego has no place here. You’re a lot closer than I am, so go and get that son of a bitch. I’ll wait here in case Winters makes a detour.’

Thunder rolled overhead like artillery fire. The storm that had been threatening all day was finally making good on its promises.

‘Can’t you get here too?’ she asked. ‘See if you can get someone else to keep an eye on Winters’ place?’

‘I’ll see. Just worry about catching this guy.’

Rain peppered the windshield like bullets as Ella threw the car into drive. Ten minutes to St. Andrews. Ten minutes to find their collector before he could complete his masterpiece.

The game was on.

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