Page 101 of The Chase
“Are you sure?” Blood drained from my face as I realized they were talking about mySt. Joan.
Ford peered down at her notebook. “There’s a lot resting on it getting authenticated. Isn’t there?”
“Was anything else taken?” I managed to sound calm.
Ford’s frown narrowed. “Just Walter Ouless’sSt. Joan of Arc. They did an inventory.”
A chill ran up my spine at what this meant.
I’d lostSt. Joanall over again.
Scattered thoughts came together in a collage of images as I marveled at Tobias’s timing. He’d been one of the few people to even seeSt. Joanand, other than the staff, no one else knew about her.
And he was here, now, right when I needed him. He never did leave town when he’d told me he’d planned to. Instead, Tobias had turned up as my shining knight at Christie’s.
Was the connection between us this profound or was something else going on?
My hand trembled as I reached for his, as though I’d be able to tap into his thoughts and see him more clearly, understand just what we were.
I needed to know what I meant to him.
“We’re wondering on the motive?” said Mitchel.
“Isn’t it always money driven?” said Tobias.
“Was there a power outage?” I whispered.
Ford’s steely blue gaze held mine. “You’ve heard about Interpol’s investigation?”
I swapped a glance with Tobias.
He looked remarkably serene, and I drew on his unwavering strength; my thoughts spiraling with just how well he handled this kind of drama. His ice-cool temperament impressive, the kind of nature that would be good for a thief like Icon.
Bloody ridiculous.
The stress was messing with my mind.
Tobias was an established businessman andaremarkable inventor who spent his free time as an ambassador for art.
I shook off this doubt and refocused on these questions I was going to have to get right.
“It came up in a meeting at work,” I said. “The art thefts in London look like they’re connected to the ones in Europe.”
“There does appear to be a connection,” admitted Ford.
“Only,” I began, “all the others were from private homes.”
“You’re absolutely certain it’s thatJoan of Arcwe saw yesterday?” Tobias asked. “They have a lot of paintings in there. It’s a big place.”
Ford’s sympathetic gaze fell on me. “Afraid so.”
“Tobias, you were there too, yesterday?” said Mitchel.
“I picked up Zara after work.” Tobias reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “We were going to have dinner and then realized we just wanted a night in.”
“If it’s okay with you,” said Mitchel, pushing himself to his feet. “We’re just going to have a peek around?”
“Of course.” Tobias held out his hand for the paperwork.
