"Abbey?" Hannah gripped her wrist hard. "I'm having trouble breathing in here." Her voice was so low Abbey could barely hear her.
Immediately Abbey slipped her arm around Hannah's waist. "You're all right, baby, as long as you stick by me. You know how everyone is afraid of me. Especially Sylvia. Is she here?" She wanted to make Hannah laugh and she succeeded, although it was a brief wheezing response.
"I think she's more afraid of me," Hannah admitted. "You never retaliate."
Abbey laughed aloud and the sound turned heads in the room. "So you admit it! You'd better be glad I'm not Sarah or you'd get a lecture."
Hannah shrugged. "Someone has to be the bad girl."
Abbey hugged her sister a little closer. "You have the proverbial heart of gold, Hannah. Joley's the wicked one. You're a sweetie."
"Hey! I heard that," Joley came up behind them, slinging her arm around Hannah so she and Abbey guarded her from either side, protecting her from the crush of the crowd. Unfortunately Joley was too big of a star to make it across the room without a dozen people stopping her to ask for her autograph.
"I'm so glad I'm not a rock star," Hannah whispered.
Joley winced. "I am so not a rock star." She tossed her head and assumed a haughty expression. Hannah naturally looked haughty but Joley could pull it off beautifully when she wanted.
"I also so want out of here, but Sarah and Inez and Aunt Carol will tear strips off us if we take off too early."
"I've got an idea," Abigail said. "It's really, really bad and we'll probably get into a lot of trouble. You want to hear it?"
"I'm in," Joley said. "Lead the way. I don't have to hear it."
Abigail threaded her way through the crowd toward a door marked Employees Only. "Chad Kingman works in the back. Do either of you remember him?"
Joley made a face. "You aren't thinking of dumping your Russian hottie for Chad, are you? Do you remember him in school? He was totally obnoxious."
Hannah burst out laughing again. "Everyone was obnoxious in school, Joley. We all grew up, even Chad."
"Well, the hussy can't sleep with one and rush off to be with the other."
"I know you're not calling me a hussy, Joley!" Abigail glared at her. "You have no idea whether or not I slept with Aleksandr."
Joley grinned at her. "Hannah told me you wore the red panties. You had every intention of sleeping with that man and you stayed out all night. I don't need confirmation that you're a hussy. I already know!"
Abigail tried to look innocent but the blush was creeping up her neck and into her cheeks and her sisters were giggling like schoolgirls. "Well, fine, maybe I did," Abigail conceded. "But I'm not going off to find Chad Kingman, for heaven's sake. He would never talk to me even if I did think he was hot, which I don't. There was this little incident at a party when he was a junior in high school. Very bad. I've never been his favorite person since."
She glanced around, shoved open the door, and waved her sisters through. It was dark and gloomy in the back room. Boxes cluttered the floor and tables. Sculptures of various sizes littered the room.
"It's a little spooky in here," Hannah said.
"What are we doing?" Joley said. "Although, this isn't bad. At least we don't have to smile at Frank and watch him flirting with Aunt Carol. She's deliberately leading that man on so she can spy for Jonas."
"Aunt Carol loves drama. And it doesn't hurt to have two men hanging on her every word," Hannah said. "I don't know how she does it. I've even gotten close to her to see if I can feel the flare of magic when she's flirting, but I can't. It's really her appeal. She makes everyone feel so good."
"She brightens the world," Joley said. "Abigail, you should sneak back to the buffet table and get us food and something to drink and we can have our own party right here."
"We aren't partying, you slacker, we're spying."
Hannah gripped her arm in excitement. "Spying?" She lowered her voice and looked around. "We need Aunt Carol's camera."
"Fine, you two wait here and I'll go get the camera and some food." Abigail slipped through the door again and joined the throng wandering through the gallery.
Carol was in the corner laughing with Reginald Mars. Abigail caught up a plate, filled it with finger foods, and made her way to her aunt. "Hello, Mr. Mars," she greeted. "You look absolutely wonderful."
Carol ran her hand up and down Reginald's arm. "Isn't he handsome?" She beamed at the man, her eyes bright and her smile genuine.
Old man Mars shook Abigail's hand politely and flashed a charming smile. He had eyes only for her aunt. "Nice to see you, Abbey."
"I hope the two of you are having a great time. Aunt Carol, would you mind letting me borrow the camera for a few minutes? Joley wants a few shots for her scrapbook."
"Well, dear, of course not." Carol removed the camera and handed it to Abigail. "But I did take several pictures of all of you girls as you moved around the room. Would you like me to show you how to use it?"
"I'm good, thanks." Abigail tried to look as innocent as possible. The smile was slowly fading from her aunt's face and that was a bad sign. "You two have fun!" She hurried away before Carol could get a good "reading" on her.
"What did you bring for us to eat?" Joley greeted her as Abigail slipped through the door. "I'm starving."
"How can you be starving? You hung out at the buffet table," Abigail objected. "I brought a camera. The food's just a cover in case anyone was watching."
"Then we may as well eat it," Joley said. "It's only practical."
Hannah rolled her eyes, but she grabbed a black olive. "What are we looking for, Abbey?"
"You wench, you took my olive!" Joley smacked her sister's hand. "Eat the cucumber thingies. I hate those."
"Something that could be a Russian artifact. Packing maybe might have come from Russia. Anything at all that might indicate something illegal is going on here."
Joley stood in front of a naked statue of a man, turning her head this way and that to study the rather smallish endowments. "Pathetic if you ask me. Seriously, this thing should be illegal. Where the heck would you put it? In your garden?"
Abigail dragged her away from the statue. "You're such a pervert, Joley. You would find the only naked man in the room."
Joley hung back. "I think I'm in love. Well, almost. I'll need Frank to do a little work on him. Can you imagine Frank's face if I asked him to add to the proportions?" She snapped her fingers. "Give me the camera."
Abigail exchanged the camera for the plate of food. "What have you found?"
"I'm going to give Aunt Carol a preview of what her life might be like if she chooses the wrong man." Joley began snapping pictures of the statue. "You never know, Frank may have used himself as a model, in which case Aunt Carol should definitely give old man Mars, as fruity as he is, a chance."
"Joley!" Abigail tried to sound stern. "This is serious business. Aleksandr says a shipment of stolen art from Russia was off-loaded from a freighter to a fishing boat. It had to go somewhere and Frank's name came up a couple of times. Chad works here unloading freight and packing boxes to ship to other places."
Joley skirted around two opened crates on the floor, peering into them to see what they contained. "I don't get any respect," she groused. "I'm learning to be an art connoisseur. Do you know how many times some man has asked if I wanted to see his etchings?"
Hannah stifled her laugh with her hand. "You're going to make me choke."
"You wouldn't be choking if you weren't stealing my olives, you thief." Joley peered under the table. "There's a lot of packing stuff here, Abbey. Some of it has watermarks on it. If they were taking something off one ship and putting it on a fishing boat, it would probably get wet, wouldn't it?"
Abigail hurried around several boxes to look under the table. "Even if we find evidence, how are we going to know if it's Chad or Frank or if both are involved?" She crouched down to get closer to the paper. "It definitely has watermarks, but it's just a plain brown wrappe
r." She took a picture anyway, zooming in on the stain. "This is probably a total waste of time, but it gets us out of the party for a few minutes."
"You didn't bring us anything to drink," Joley complained. "Looking at art stuff that isn't deemed good enough to be on display is hard work."
Abigail turned around and looked at her. "Why isn't this on display? Is it being shipped? Did someone purchase it already? Frank must have ordered it, right?"
"Maybe someone commissioned him to sell this stuff."
"Abbey," Hannah said, "come over here. It feels different."
Abigail immediately crossed the room. She wasn't nearly as sensitive as Hannah to changes, but even she felt the strange shifting surrounding a small corner of the room. Her heart began to accelerate and her mouth went dry. "What do you think it is?"
"Can't you feel it? Violence. Not death, but definitely violence." Hannah searched the floor and walls, careful of her clothes. "Look around, see if you can see anything that indicates a recent fight. It has to be very recent to be so strong."
Joley stood beside Hannah. "In the last couple of hours." She shivered. "It was definitely a physical fight of some kind. Did either of you get a look at Frank's knuckles?"
"Frank has to be in his late fifties. I can't imagine him in a fistfight an hour before the press and a roomful of people and celebrities show up," Abigail said. "He just isn't the type."
"Chad is," Joley said. "In school, any altercation with anyone he wanted to settle with his fists."
Abigail crouched down to examine the floor. "There's blood here. Spots of it. A few on the table legs." She ran her hand over the floor, "feeling" for the aftermath of a violent encounter. "There's even blood on the cabinets." She pulled open the bottom one and stared at the four paintings inside. They were stacked upright, the frames facing her. "Hannah, look at these."
Hannah, using two of the napkins Abigail had provided from the buffet table, carefully removed one of the paintings from the slot it was in. "This is no forgery, Abbey. This is the real thing. I don't know an awful lot about art, but I can feel the age of the canvas. What do you think, Joley?"
Joley held her hand inches from the canvas. "I think Frank Warner is a swine of the first degree and he better keep his greedy paws off of my aunt."
"It still could be Chad." Abigail focused the camera and took several shots, indicating Hannah remove the next one. "I'll show these to Aleksandr and see if they've been stolen."
"There's no way these paintings don't belong in a museum somewhere," Joley said. "And I'd have a difficult time believing Chad has the brains to sell hot paintings from other countries."
"He drinks too," Hannah pointed out as she held the third canvas. "He talks about everything and anything when he's drinking. Wouldn't he slip up and brag?"
"He's got to be making big money off of this if it's him," Abigail said as she photographed the last painting. "Do either of you know what he drives, or if he owns a house?"
"I've heard he's a gambler." Hannah slipped the last painting back into its slot and closed the door to the cupboard. "Inez has mentioned it a couple of times. Once she said if he wasn't careful he was going to get his legs broken."
"What about Frank?" Abigail retraced their steps toward the door. "Does he gamble? What have you heard about him?"
"Strangely, not very much. He seems to lead a quiet life," Hannah said. "He likes theater and is very supportive of the community. I don't know, he just doesn't seem the type to do anything illegal like this."
Joley caught at Abigail before she could open the door. "Someone's coming," she hissed. "Hurry, we have to hide."
Abigail didn't question the decision but made a dive to get behind a modern art fountain that had been relegated to a dark corner. Hannah sank down beneath a table surrounded by a fortress of boxes and Joley squeezed into a small space behind one of the largest statues. The door swung open and Sylvia Fredrickson crept into the back room, tugging on a man's hand. Aleksandr Volstov followed her, closing the door behind him.
"Hurry," Sylvia said. "I know you'll find this so interesting. My friend Chad works back here and I've visited him dozens of times." Her eyes darted around the room, searching out the corners. She gave a small disappointed sigh and plastered a flirtatious smile on her face.
"Are you certain we're allowed back here?"
Abigail swallowed hard as she watched Sylvia drag Aleksandr into the center of the room. Aleksandr appeared smooth and interested, but there was no doubt that he didn't want the other woman stroking him with intimate fingers. His aura held itself away from Sylvia's, retreating each time she stepped closer. The brazen woman kept a firm grip on his hand and batted her eyelashes at him.
Aleksandr's gaze was restless, taking in the details of the room, seeking out every secret in every dark corner. Abigail knew him well enough to know he was alert and uneasy. He twice looked toward the fountain where she crouched, trying not to breathe.
"It's no big deal." Sylvia halted and turned toward Aleksandr. "I told you I'd show you something amazing." Her hands went to the buttons of her blouse.
"You said art." He stopped her by placing his hand over hers.
"I am a work of art," she answered, her smile seductive.
Abigail sucked in her breath sharply, her stomach knotting with a terrible anger. She glanced toward her sisters. She needed to leave, get away quickly before the building rage turned into something she couldn't control.
Aleksandr moved around Sylvia to track around the room. Abigail could see he was drawn to the corner where she found the blood. He crouched down, just as she had, and examined the floor. "I don't think we should be here," he objected again.
Sylvia had gone back to opening the front of her blouse. "Don't be silly. We won't get caught. Everyone is busy asking for autographs of our resident celebrities." There was a bite in her voice.
Hannah raised her hands and a breeze stirred dust through the room. Sylvia immediately began to sneeze, a violent onslaught that wouldn't stop. Aleksandr was forced to do up the buttons on her blouse and lead her out of the room. As he went through the door, he glanced back toward the fountain.
14
JOLEY and Hannah slipped out of their hiding places, both trying not to laugh. They hurried over to Abigail and dragged her out from behind the fountain.
Joley popped another black olive into her mouth. "I thought we were going to be caught for sure. Or worse, that Sylvia was going to strip all the way down to her bare skin right in front of us."
Hannah rubbed her hand down Abigail's arm in an effort to soothe her. "Aleksandr didn't look very interested in her artwork. I'd say she's definitely visited with Chad here in the back room."
Abigail looked around the room, anywhere to avoid looking at her sisters. She was furious. Furious. She wouldn't have sent dust flying. Hannah had been kind. Her temper was roiling in her stomach and had she been able to grow claws, she might have considered raking Sylvia's face. "Next time she lays a hand on him, she's going to find herself in a pit somewhere very wretched."
Her sisters exchanged a small look of alarm.
"She probably saw you with him the other night," Joley said. "You know Sylvia, she'd take her revenge by seducing your man. Let's just get out of here while we can." She hurried through the doorway, stepping aside to allow Hannah and Abigail through.
The crowd seemed to have swelled in numbers. It was a crush just fitting into the room. Abigail tried to draw air into her suddenly burning lungs. Sylvia might have tried to seduce Aleksandr, but he hadn't been in the least interested. So why had he gone with her into the back room? He was using Sylvia just as certainly as Sylvia was using him. And what did that mean?
She knew how far Aleksandr would go to solve a case he was working. Did it include seduction? The thought crept into her mind. Tightened like barbwire around her heart. Would he sleep with another woman he wasn't the least interested in? He had allowed Abigail to be interrogated, incarcerated, and deported to kee
p his position as a detective. If Sylvia could get him information on Chad Kingman and the only way she would impart it was for him to cooperate sexually, would he?
Abigail looked up and her gaze collided with a pair of dark, almost midnight blue eyes. Aleksandr and Sylvia were only a foot away. Close enough to reach out and touch. Abigail's heart nearly stopped then began to pound. For a moment she couldn't breathe, couldn't think, even her vision blurred. She told herself he wouldn't stoop to sleeping with another woman for information, but Sylvia's hand was curled possessively around his arm. And what else would he do to solve his cases?
Hannah turned her head and looked at Abigail. The smile faded from Joley's face. There was no way to stop the connection from leaping from one Drake sister to the next. The emotion was too strong and even across the room, Sarah and Kate went on the alert, turning to see what had caused the disturbance.
Aleksandr's gaze held Abbey's, compelled her to keep her gaze locked with his, a captive, though she desperately needed to look away, to regain her composure. There was a strange roaring in her head.
"Hello, Sylvia," Joley said, "how are you?"
Sylvia cleared her voice. "Hi, Joley, Hannah, Abigail." Her voice went tight as she said Abigail's name.
Abbey flicked her a glance, was driven to look back at the familiar face. Familiar eyes. Her heart clenched hard. Her stomach contracted and she felt a punch, an actual physical punch to her stomach. Pain swept through her, shaking her, spilling out of her so that it swept through the room and filled every space. Laughter ceased as the intensity of her emotions hit the others in the room.
"Abbey," Joley whispered in warning, her fingers biting deep into Abigail's waist.
Sarah arrived, flanked by Kate. "How lovely to see you this evening, Sylvia," Sarah said, appearing calm, but her expression, as she looked at Sylvia, was murderous.
Aunt Carol took the camera out of Abigail's limp hand.
Abbey took a breath and tried to regain control of her emotions. Her pain was so strong, the memory of betrayal, fear, and bone-deep pain when she had realized Aleksandr had traded their love to save his job. She hadn't wanted to think that he might have killed someone in order to get her out of Russia, but she knew he was capable of anything when he felt he had justification. Seeing him with Sylvia and realizing he might very well betray her in other ways crushed her fragile hope that she could make things work with Aleksandr. They were too different. Far too different.