Allyson leaned toward Adriana when the large man was out of earshot. “Are we really going to travel all the way to Heidelberg, Germany, based on this guy’s assessment of some old documents?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
It wasn’t the first time the two had disagreed. Adriana was right, though. Lester was good at what he did. And he’d brought them to a guy who apparently knew a great deal about missing art and just happened to have a high level of expertise when it came to Rembrandt.
“What is it he does again?” Allyson asked, switching her gaze to Lester. “I mean, where does he get the money to afford a place like this?” She waved a hand at their surroundings.
“Inheritance.” The one-word answer didn’t suffice based on the blank expression on her face, so he elaborated. “I think it was old steel money from England. Man’s never had to a work an honest day in his life.”
Adriana raised a questioning eyebrow. “You fence stolen art, Les.”
“Point taken.”
“Here you are,” Harry’s voice thundered from halfway up the stairs. “Right where I left it, as I find things often are.” He chortled a little at his own humor as he waddled across the carpet and over to where Adriana was sitting. He held out the notebook as he moved, but one of his slippers caught in the thick rug and threw him off balance. As he fell forward, the notebook came loose in his hand and dropped to the floor. Adriana reached out to brace him, catching him just before his face hit the edge of an end table.
Behind her, next to the far wall, the sound of glass breaking crackled through the room. Something clicked inside her, and she ducked down, taking the huge man to the floor with her.
“Get down!” she shouted.
Allyson’s reaction was immediate. She rolled off the sofa and down to the floor just as another snap came from the front window. The projectile struck the back wall, ripping through a painting of a flowery meadow and sinking harmlessly into the sheetrock. Lester dove down after her, his legs flailing through the air.
A third bullet punched a hole in the window and zipped through the room, shattering a vase filled with lilies. Water exploded all over the floor, followed momentarily by the stems and pedals that fell almost in slow motion.
“Who’s shooting at us?” Allyson nearly yelled.
Adriana didn’t have an immediate answer, and she doubted the shooter would announce his identity in between firing at them. Right now, they needed to focus on what they could control. And that was getting somewhere safe.
“I don’t suppose you have a back door to this place, do you?”
A panic-stricken Harry nodded frantically. “Yes. My car is back there.”
“I thought you didn’t drive!” Lester shouted as a chunk of glass fell from the windowpane and crashed to the floor in a hundred pieces.
“I don’t! I have someone drive me if I need to go anywhere.”
Allyson interrupted their conversation. The bullets were whizzing through the air faster now, tearing apart what was left of the living room window and shredding its accompanying curtains.
“Why run when we could fight back?” she asked. She drew a pistol from her lower back that had been tucked in tight by a belt.
Adriana had her rucksack by her side with a fully loaded weapon within. From the look on her face, she didn’t necessarily agree with her counterpart’s zealous idea. “His gun is full auto,” she argued. “And he’s got a suppressor on it. We never heard any shots. Your weapon will bring down every gendarme this side of the Eiffel Tower.” She nodded at Allyson’s gun.
She had a point, even though Allyson didn’t like it.
Adriana didn’t tell her that inside her bag, she had a specially made box suppressor for her weapon. It had been a gift from Sean, who’d acquired it from one of his buddies at DARPA, the Pentagon’s high-tech research arm. The silencer was still in research and development, but it worked using a chamber-dampening system. She didn’t understand all the science behind it, but the thing worked like a charm. For the current situation, Adriana felt it most prudent to retreat and live to fight another day.
She was on her stomach, face to face with Harry. “Your keys, where are they?”
Another piece of glass fell to the ground and shattered. The noise startled him, but he refocused rapidly. “There’s a key hanger by the door on the way to the carriage house. You can’t miss it.”
“We’re going to need to borrow your car,” she said. “When the shooter stops to reload, you have two choices. You can come with us out the back or stay here and hope he follows us.”
Harry looked to her for counsel. “Which would you do?”
“Honestly, I think he’ll follow me and her,” she jerked her thumb at a ticked-off Allyson. “But I could be wrong. And if I am, he’ll come in and shoot you.”
“That makes it easy. I think I’ll come along with you.”
“Probably a good choice.” She rolled onto her side so she could see Allyson. “Take these two out the back to the car. I’ll be there in a second.”
The blonde’s confusion was expressed by her frown. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to keep him occupied for a second. Just go.”
Allyson let out an irritated grunt, but she shimmied away on her hands and knees, sure to keep low enough that whoever was outside couldn’t see her.
“Follow her,” Adriana ordered the two men.
She didn’t have to tell Lester twice. He’d already taken off behind her. Harry looked at the two who were on their way out and then back at Adriana. “You sure you’ll be okay?”
She passed him a devilish grin. “I’ll be fine. Go ahead. Be there in a minute.”
Harry hesitated and then nodded. “All right.” He shifted around to leave, but before he did, Adriana stopped him. He glanced back to see what she wanted.
“Hey, Harry. Sorry about the mess.”
His eyes were wide with fear and confusion, but he mustered enough courage to crack a parting joke. “Like I said, the maid comes by tomorrow.”
8
Adriana wriggled over to a heavy cabinet that was situated against the wall facing the shooter. She dragged her bag with her and reached inside, pulled out her handgun and sound suppressor, and snapped the attachment on the end of the barrel. The shooting suddenly stopped, signaling that whoever was out front needed to reload. She didn’t have much time, but there was enough for her to get up on her knees and take a quick peek out the destroyed window.
A charcoal gray BMW sat across the street. The windows were tinted way beyond the legal limit in almost any country. She could see the unique shape of a black cylinder barely protruding from the narrow opening at the top of the driver’s side. A second later, she dropped back to the ground as another round ripped through the room.
At that distance, her weapon’s accuracy would be ballpark at best. No way she could expect to win a shootout. Her plan wasn’t to win, though. It was to keep the shooter honest, to make him think he was in danger. A reply volley would at least give him reason to pause. She tugged back on the slide to chamber a fresh round and leaned her back against the cabinet. Something rattled inside one of the doors. It was a familiar sound, like bottles clanking against each other.
She raised her right hand up above her shoulder and pried open the closest door. She glanced up and noticed several bottles of bourbon, scotch, cognac, and gin. There were more than a few expensive items. Some were extremely rare, almost impossible to obtain. Harry must have had quite an inheritance based on that collection alone. The liquor gave her another idea, though, one that she doubted her host would approve.