Art Theft 101

Chapter 1-5

Ian was seated at a table close to the infamous fireplace Jean Lafitte is supposed to haunt. He had a beer in front of him but it didn’t look as if he’d drunk any of it.

“Feel any cold hands touching you?” I asked with a grin as I took the vacant chair across from him.

“No, but I saw the red eyes staring at me through the grate,” Ian replied. Then he laughed. “Since I don’t believe in ghosts and goblins and such, I doubt I would have.”

“You never know what could be out there,” I said with a small smile. “Anyway, as to what we’ve talked about, we’ll give you a firm answer in the morning.”

“If it’s positive, I have one request. I want to come with you.”

“Not happening,” I told him.

“Nicky is my great nephew, and my godson. I…I need to be there when you get him away from the bastard. For one thing, he’ll need someone around that he knows when it happens. He’s probably already traumatized, wondering why he can’t be with his mother. Having strangers suddenly appear to take him from the…From his father as well…”

“I understand your concern,” I replied, “but you don’t know ace-deuce about what it will take to retrieve him. Any more than you know how to get your hands on a—well you know—without running into trouble.”

“I’ll stay back. I’ll do anything you tell me to. But I have to be there.” Ian gave me a hard look. “Either you bring me with you, or I follow you. I do know where the lodge is so that won’t be a problem.”

I had a thought, and voiced it. “Have you been there?”

Ian nodded. “Once, soon after Karen and Steve were married. He invited me there to go on a hunting trip with him and a couple of his cronies. Those men were serious about things. Bloodthirsty. It’s the first and last time I did it.”

“Good to know. Not that you don’t like killing innocent animals but that you’ve seen the inside of the lodge. It will be helpful.”

“Then you’ll let me come along?”

“No,” I replied. “But we will pick your brain about the place. That is if we decide to take the job,” I quickly amended, although I was certain we would.

Ian tensed then made a visible effort to relax, even taking a sip of his beer. “I guess I’ll have to accept your decision.”

I smiled dryly. “Including not showing up unannounced when we get there?”

He shrugged. “I won’t promise, although I do understand your reasoning.”

“Good. I have another question as long as we’re on the subject. What precipitated the divorce?”

“Steve is a mental and emotional abuser. Other than allowing Karen to go to work, he kept a tight rein on her. As I said, among other things he used Nicky to do that. He also cut her off from our family and her friends. I think he’d have made her quit working for me but he liked the money she brought home.”

“Not a nice man.”

“Not at all,” Ian agreed.

A waitress finally came over to ask if I wanted anything. I was tempted to order a glass of wine, then thought Duff and the others waiting at home for me. So I shook my head. “I have to leave,” I explained to her, and by extension, Ian. She moved on and I started to get up.

“I have a question for you,” Ian said. “This is completely off the wall, and none of my business, but your gallery takes up only a small portion of the building. Do some of you live in the rest of it?”

“We all do.”

“I…see. That must be crowded. Unless you’re paired off. s**t. Sorry. I shouldn’t be being so…nosy.” This time he gulped his beer instead of sipping it.

I laughed softly, curious as to why he was asking. “The building is larger than it appears from the outside so we each have our own apartment. The only one who doesn’t live there is the man who manages the gallery. He’s not part of our team so at the end of the day he goes home.” Not quite the whole truth of course, since Rob doesn’t live there either. At least not physically, although he is often there in an ethereal way.

“Makes sense. I’ll stop prying and let you go, since I’m certain your friends are waiting for you.”

“They are.” I chuckled as I stood, and left him with one parting thought. One which perhaps might interest him if I was reading the last bit of our conversation correctly. “They’re probably wondering if we’re, as Liddy puts it, feeling each other out on a personal level.” I tried not to laugh at the look of disbelief he gave me. A look that slowly turned to one of contemplation, if I was correct. I didn’t stick around to find out if I was.