Page 116 of Caper Crush
As we exit, the doorman says, “The other cleaner just arrived.”
“Yes, we know,” Takashi says. “We were called to another job, so she’ll complete this one. It’s good. There’s a lot of work.”
We meet up with William by the car.
“The paintings weren’t there.”
“I was really hoping they’d be there,” Takashi says. “Do you think he destroyed them?”
“He could keep them in his office,” William says.
“Officer Johnson reviewed the footage from Edmund’s office lobby and didn’t see him carry in any painting-size packages,” I say. “They have to be somewhere. Edmund wants Annabelle. I don’t think Annabelle will forgive him if he destroys them.” Now I have to hope that Annabelle hasn’t rejected him. “Let’s trail him. We have some time before I have to meet Annabelle for lunch.”
Annabelle is working from home and invited me over for lunch. Her apartment is not far from Edmund’s.
Takashi leaves to return to his office. We add more money to the parking meter and loiter on the other side of the street from Edmund’s gym behind a truck that is double-parked.
“He could have left already,” William says.
“There he is,” I say excitedly.
Edmund walks down the block, his duffel bag on his shoulder.
He stops to talk to an artist who has set up his paintings using the scaffolding structure as an outdoor gallery. They are all abstract paintings. Not Edmund’s style at all. He waves his hands as he’s talking to the guy but then moves on, turning the corner.
William says, “Let’s follow.”
“No, let’s go check out those paintings and talk to that artist. Edmund is not the type to talk to street artists, nefarious connections aside, so it’s weird he talked to that one.”
We wait for a taxi to pass, then cross the street. I get a good look at the paintings—and nearly stop breathing.
I grip William’s hand hard.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Come.” I tug him away, down the block from the painter. I pull him into the street to stand behind a parked van where we can’t be spotted by the artist.
“Those three paintings near us.” I tilt my head back toward the exhibit. “That’s the same brushwork as the forged painting.”
“Can you tell that?” William asks.
“Yes.”
“Right on your sister’s block.”
“Edmund would pass by this same vendor, too, on the way to my sister,” I say. Our glances meet.
“Could she be in on it?” William asks.
“No,” I say.
“No,” he says. But his no is cautious, considering. “But does Edmund want you to think she is? Why? Especially when he likes her?”
“To divide us,” I say. “And then he can be the loyal supporter on her side.”
“It’s still an odd way to treat the one you love.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
