LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

at her actions.

      After a glance around, Lisette launched into a detailed description of Fire. Padma responded with gasp after gasp. When Lisette couldn’t think of a single other thing to add, Padma’s mouth formed a thin line, accompanied by a sigh. “All that beautiful paneling and trim and flooring...gone. That’s depressing enough to make me do something crazy like ordering lehenga cholis online or, heaven forbid, answering emails from Raza’s incredibly annoying girlfriend.”

      Grateful for a fresh topic, and having the same opinion of brother Raza’s girlfriend, Lisette considered the lehenga choli: a long skirt worn with a midriff-baring bodice. When it came to fashion, Padma was more assimilated than her mother would like, so it would thrill Dr. Mom to see her buying traditional Indian clothing. “Ooh, that pink one you showed me? Could you get it a size larger so I could wear it, too?”

      “Or here’s an idea, I could buy one for you and one for me so they would both fit. Then we could wear them when we go clubbing and tell everyone we’re twins.”

      “You’d get to be the Indian twin with the fabulous hair, and I’d be the island twin with the insane curls.” Island was the ethnicity Marley had given whenever Lisette asked. That doesn’t tell me anything, she protested, and Marley had responded, Get your DNA done if it bothers you.

      “Here we are.” Padma turned into a narrow drive that ended in front of a tidy white house. The garage had been converted to a room, and fall flowers bloomed in planters on the porch. The blinds at the window beside the front door swayed, then the door was flung open.

      “Lisette! Padma! It’s so good to see my pretty girls.” Mrs. Maier was old enough to be their grandmother, pure white hair framing a face that was always creased by a smile. Though she wore no makeup, her cheeks were rosy, and her blue eyes popped against her pale skin. She was average height, slender as a reed, and she smelled of exotic fragrances when she hugged them.

      Standing on the porch, arms wrapped around the shopping bag, Padma said loudly, “We brought you some wrapping paper. You know, because the holidays are almost here.”

      Lisette kept her eyes from rolling by squeezing them shut for a moment. Mrs. Maier, though, didn’t miss a beat, replying in an equally loud voice, “Oh, that’s so sweet. Yes, with my grandbabies, I’ll have a ton of gifts to wrap. Come in, and we’ll have tea.”

      Padma flashed a grin at Lisette before following the old lady inside. Her own smile rueful, Lisette trailed after them and into the kitchen. They sat at the round table that overfilled the room, where a tea service and a plate of cookies waited.

      Lisette and Padma chose tea bags from the bowl next to the pot, and Mrs. Maier poured steaming water over them in delicate porcelain cups. Next she passed around the cookies, then tended to her own tea before smiling at both of them. “You said you had news, Padma. Have you located my painting?”

      Padma pulled the tube out of the plastic bag and offered it to Mrs. Maier. The older woman’s brow furrowed, then understanding appeared, and her hands began to shake. “This is...oh, my heavens...are you...?”

      She began to unwrap the paper, but after a round or two, she ripped it like an excited child. The top popped off when she pulled, the canvas making a faint rubbing sound as she withdrew it. When she unrolled it, the feeling Lisette had experienced upon first seeing it swept over Mrs. Maier, too: goose bumps, taut muscles, a gasp of pure joy. Tears filled her eyes as she stared at it, her breathing rapid, her entire body trembling.

      “Oh, my Lord... I thought I would never see...” Her gaze lifted to them. “You sweet, sweet girls! When I asked for your help, I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t think there was anything you could do. I thought you would try your best, and then I could accept that she was gone. I’m so sorry I doubted you and so, so grateful you proved me wrong.”

      Padma patted her arm. “It’s okay, Mrs. M. We have enough faith in ourselves for ten people.”

      Mrs. Maier beamed through her tears. “Marley was right to be so proud of you two.”

      “She trained us well,” Lisette said before taking a sip of her tea.

      Padma’s smile faltered. “Mrs. M, what are you going to do with it now? The man who had it stolen...if he finds out it was returned, he may hire someone to take it again.”

      Carefully rerolling the canvas, Mrs. Maier returned it to its tube. “My sons and I have discussed that. They wanted me to get it out of the house years ago, but... Their father gave it to me when we got married. It hung in our bedroom for sixty years. I just couldn’t bear to not see it every day.” Sadness slipped into her expression, regret for the loss of her husband, the painting, the innocence.

      Then she cheered up. “The Fenwick Center isn’t far from here. They’re small, but they have a lovely collection. My friends and I, we go there every week to see what’s new and admire what’s old. They would provide a nice home to her.” She patted the mailing tube as if comforting Shepherdess before turning to Lisette. “Unless you’d like me to contact the Candalaria.”

      If she hadn’t just swallowed the mouthful of tea, Lisette would have choked on it. “No, no, not at all. The Fenwick is a wonderful place, and she’ll be the star of their collection. Until you transfer it, though, keep it someplace safe.”

      “Not a problem. My sons come over every Friday evening. They’ll store it in their bank vault until I can talk to the museum on Monday.”

      They spoke a few minutes more, finished their tea, got hugged again and finally left as the first son arrived. As she drove away, Padma muttered, “If she’d donated or loaned it to the Candalaria, we’d’ve had to steal it again.”

      Absolutely. Or, simpler, tell Mrs. Maier that David Candalaria had commissioned the theft. It was their rule to keep the identity of their marks to themselves. After all, their job was to retrieve the goods, not gather evidence for prosecution. But sometimes they had to break their own rules. And though it was a totally wrong idea, she couldn’t help but think of Jack and wonder.

      Would a successful heist against the Candalaria impress him even more than the theft from the Castle?

      * * *

      Once Lisette and Padma were out of sight, Jack circled the block and drove past the house they’d visited, making note of the address painted on the curb. At the next stop sign, he checked his files. Yep, the address belonged to Rachel Maier, legitimate owner of Shepherdess. Concealed in that big bag Padma carried inside, Shepherdess was home again, at least temporarily.

      Grinning, he drove to the parking lot where Lisette had left her car. With another woman in another place, he might have felt guilty for slipping a tracking device into her purse earlier, but that was because business was business and women were personal.

      Except Lisette, who was an intriguing mix of both.

      The tracking app showed that she was inside Pecos Pete’s, and a drive around the parking lot located her car out back. After finding a space, he went inside and took a seat at the bar, ordered a beer and took a long drink before gazing around. The women were sitting in a booth near the windows, perfectly situated where he could see their reflections in the mirror behind the bar. Padma’s expression was lively, her mood clearly a good one. She was doing most of the talking, accompanied by dramatic gestures. She was a pretty woman who somehow managed to project serenity and tranquillity in spite of her liveliness.

      Lisette, in contrast, was quiet, thoughtful, serene in fact and not just appearance. She dipped tortilla chips in salsa and sipped her drink while giving Padma encouragement to go on.

      “Excuse me. Could I get a pad and a pen?”

      The bartender pulled the items from beneath the counter and dropped them in front of him on her way to other customers. He wrote a note and flagged her down again, pointed out Lisette’s table, ordered a bottle of their best wine and gave her the note and a fifty-dollar bill to deliver it. His message was brief: Congratulations, ladies.

      Five minutes later, a waitress tapped

Скачать книгу