Page 15 of Etched in Stone
Jesse's jaw dropped. “You mean you want me to steal it.”
“Swap it, creative redistributing.” He shrugged as if this was some minor detail to be overlooked.
“Call it what you will. You did such an excellent job on this piece that I doubt anyone would ever notice.”
“I’d notice. And there’s a huge difference between making a copy with the intent of displaying it or studying it and making a forgery to swindle someone out of the real thing.” Jesse had been worried about this, in the back of her head, that Pablo would use it as a forgery, passing it off as the real thing
to some buyer down the road. With the debt hanging over her head, she’d pushed her fear aside, caveat emptor, let the buyer beware. Jesse had never imagined she’d be the one expected to complete the swindle.
“I think you’ve got the wrong person here,” Jesse stammered.
“You are the only person. My organization has a policy of not involving outsiders in our business unless absolutely necessary. You have the required credentials and connections to complete the task.”
“I’m not a thief.”
“There you go with those dirty words again.” Pablo shook his head. He wiggled his fingers and then made a fist. He was trying not to get agitated.
The promise of money was beginning to outweigh the danger of dealing with this off kilter asshole. He was a bully used to getting his way, and there was only one way to get rid of a bully.
“Look. I’m going to make this perfectly clear. Under no circumstances am I going to help you. Our business arrangement is over and I will not ever take another commision from you again. Please leave.”
“Over?” Pablo stated. “You say it is over?” The look in his eye told Jesse that he wasn’t used to being told no, and he definitely was the one that did all the breaking off of his relationships.
“Well then,” Pablo said, loosening his violet tie. He pulled back his collar to reveal a nasty looking scar on his neck.
“You see this scar? You know where I got this scar? My wife. Are you surprised that I have a wife?” He didn't wait for an answer. He just ran his gloved fingers over the line on his throat. Even his gloves were violet. “She shot me, right in the throat. I thought I was dead. Thought I was gonna meet my maker, but then I woke up in the hospital. And I was alive, imagine that! My wife? They took her to jail. Then she begged and pleaded, ‘oh sweetie, it was an accident. Big big accident. So sorry.’”
Pablo was slowly approaching, getting closer and closer to her, and Jesse found herself backing up to the edge of the garden, near to the gargoyle.
“She begged for me to take her back, drop charges, and I did. And nobody ever found her body.”
There was no way of telling if he was just spinning a story or if he had just confessed to murder, and he probably knew that too. She didn't care. She just wanted this chubby short thug in violet to get out of her life forever.
“I can't. It's dishonest, and I don't care how much money-”
And that was it. Three steps forward and he shoved her toward the edge and she found herself toppling over the edge of the roof. For a split second, she thought he was trying to do one of those shake downs where the guy is hung over the side of the building and ends up caving or confessing after a few comedic moments. But Pablo had no intention of holding her there. One solid push and she was over, falling to her death.
There wasn't much of a life to flash before her eyes. She closed them tight as the world rushed toward her. Then she didn't hit the ground. Someone grabbed her. Someone strong and hard, and they were flying.
Jesus Christ, she'd been rescued by Superman. Her eyes flew open. It was dark, but she was pretty damn sure she was in the arms of her very own gargoyle. He blinked at her and they rose, higher, back up to the rooftops.
“I told you. That guy is bad news, dammit.”
It was Ray's voice that echoed back at her and for a moment, in his gravelly voice and steel gray eyes, she saw his face flicker, from fedora to fang face and back again. He set her down on a rooftop
that overlooked their little garden. Pablo was already gone, but that didn't make Jesse feel any better.
In fact, she was having a bit of a crisis trying to put everything together.
“Are you okay?” Raygoyle asked.
“Yes. No. What the hell?”
“Stay here.”
“Wait!” But it was too late. Her gargoyle had already spread his wings and was gliding down to the garden below. Somewhere along the way he'd picked up a large iron bar and was wielding it as he headed into her apartment.
She closed her eyes, blinking hard to clear her vision. It hadn't been a trick of her mind. His whole form was flashing between Ray and the gargoyle. Then she got mad. That bastard Pablo had just tried to kill her. She needed her own iron bar to take out his knees and maybe that smug grin on his face. Rat bastard. She turned and saw there was a strangely familiar garden behind her. It was similar to the layout of the one below, though this one had only one door leading off of it. She tried the door. It was locked. Great, she was stuck on top of the building until he came and got her.
