Page 120 of Caper Crush
“We need to go,” I say. “We’ve got a lead in the case.”
“That’s great,” Annabelle says. “Good luck.”
“If Edmund cancels on you, can you let me know?” I ask.
“Why?”
Should I tell her?
“Edmund orchestrated the theft of the paintings. I’m afraid he’ll destroy them if you tell him you don’t want to date him. Can you hold off on telling him for a few days?” I ask. “You could cancel tonight, but it also might be helpful if you kept him occupied.”
Chapter thirty-one
Williammadeanappointmentto meet the artist at his studio in Red Hook, Brooklyn. The studio is located on the second floor of a warehouse with Dutch-style, arched, brick windows and wooden shutters. The Dutch architecture of certain blocks in Red Hook gives the feeling of being in Amsterdam. But today is not for sightseeing.
At the moment, we’re parked down the block. Uncle Tony pretends to be an Amazon delivery guy to scope out what type of security they have. He took an Amazon box, put in a new pack of pens, sealed and labeled it. Every office needs more pens. With his bright-orange vest, he rings the doorbell.
We can hear him through our earpieces. A muffled answer comes out of the intercom.
“Amazon delivery. I need a signature,” he says.
“Leave it downstairs by the door,” the voice from the intercom says.
“It needs a signature. It’s my first day. Can you sign?”
“C’mon up,” the intercom voice says.
And he’s in the building.
We’ve already googled the space on a real estate site, so we know the interior layout. But Uncle Tony will confirm that layout and the make of the security cameras just in case. Not that we’re planning to steal anything.
The car is quiet as we wait. I shift in the padded seat. We’ve been over our plan a million times. I just want to go. I grip my sweaty hands together, and William puts his hand over them. I look at him and nod.
Uncle Tony comes out of the building and walks down the block to us.
He slides into the back seat next to Takashi and explains the security system. Takashi brought his jammer machine.
William comes around to open my side door, and when I get out, I hold on to his arm so my very high heels don’t get caught in the cobblestones. I carefully watch my step as we walk toward the door.
This time, we’re playing wealthy art collectors. I wear a deep-green, fitted dress that I found at a secondhand shop. William looks dashing in a button-up shirt, the last few buttons undone, and black slacks. My large, fake, diamond engagement ring, courtesy of Uncle Tony, flashes in the light.
Takashi and Uncle Tony are on the lookout for Edmund, who’s been released from questioning and is on the loose. At least until Officer Johnson is able to tie him to Howard Holbrooke or this forgery artist.
We ring the buzzer and announce our presence. The intercom voice tells us to come right up. We push open the metal door and walk up the stairs. Notices advising of a recent extermination line the walls. Matt greets us at the door.
“Thanks so much for meeting us on such short notice,” William says.
“We really loved your paintings when we saw them exhibited on the street,” I say. “I particularly like your brushwork.”
“We’re looking for paintings to decorate our space when we get married.” William nods toward my ring. He glances at me, and I smile back. I wish we were moving in together.
“And we heard you sometimes copy artwork.”
“Are you looking for that? Why?”
“My sister and I both like my mom’s painting,” William says. “This way we could each have a copy.”
Abstract paintings hang on the white-painted brick walls of the studio. His work reminds me of mine. Why would he copy a painting when he has talent?
