“That is the arrangement.”
She pressed the issue tugging at the back of her mind. “How do I know that as soon as you have the painting, you won’t kill us both?”
The man took a breath before answering. She could tell he was trying to figure out the right words to say. What that meant, Adriana didn’t know. “Ms. Villa, you have no idea who I am. Your father has not seen my face or the faces of the men who work for me. He doesn’t even know where he is except for the quarters where he’s been housed for the last two weeks. And if you are worried about how he has been treated since his arrival, I assure you he has received nothing but the best food and accommodations I have to offer.”
That sounded like a load of bull, but what did it matter if she believed him or not? For the time being, she chose to believe her father was okay.
He kept talking. “Once the deal is done and I have the Rembrandt, I will deposit the money I promised into an account, give you the account information, and leave you to spend the rest of your days indulging in whatever adventures you choose.”
The Belgian sounded sincere. Then again, this wasn’t his first rodeo. According to Hummels, he and other members of the Syndicate had been manipulating people for a long time, forcing them to play out their little games for personal gain. Any attempts he made to sound honorable or just would be met with a heavy dose of skepticism.
“I don’t suppose you’re going to give me a hint as to where I should start my search?” She asked the question already knowing what the answer would be. Besides, he’d already given her the first clue, whether he meant to or not.
“You know as well as I do that I already told you where to begin. ”
Yep. That’s what I figured. He’d told her to use the resources she had at her disposal that others didn’t have. As to the location where she should first look, Paris was the obvious answer. It was where Hitler’s museum was said to display the Rembrandt, and it also happened to be where one of her favorite underground art dealers lived.
“I’ll see you on Friday,” she said coldly.
“As charming as I’m sure a meeting like that would be, I’m afraid that seeing me is quite impossible. However, I have sent you a message detailing the drop-off point and what to do once the painting is delivered. Once you have delivered and my men have verified the painting is authentic, you will receive another message as to where you can find your father.”
All the cloak-and-dagger stuff was getting tiresome. When she was done with all this, Adriana planned on finding a nice quiet cabin in the mountains somewhere and taking a few weeks to recuperate.
“Fine. You’ll get your painting. Just see to it my father is delivered to me unharmed.”
“If you succeed, he will be.”
The call ended abruptly, leaving her standing alone in her hotel room, holding the device to her ear. She lowered it and looked at the screen just before it went dark.
A sudden silence pierced the room. Her eyes wandered over to the small package on the bed. It was about the size of a shoebox, a gift from Sean Wyatt that contained a few special items only he had access to. She’d called him and told him what she had planned and what she needed. He’d been more than happy to help and put her in contact with one of his trusted allies in Frankfurt who delivered the box the previous day. The items within would be of great help when she went after the man behind her father’s disappearance. For the time being, they would have to wait.
Her phone rang again, vibrating in her hand. It was a call she’d expected to come shortly after getting off the line with the Belgian. Sean’s name appeared on the caller ID.
She hit the green button and said, “Did you get him?”
“We almost had him. Several times, actually. He’s using some kind of scrambling system to deflect our triangulation. Every time we narrowed in on a location, it bounced us to another one. Never seen anything like it. Honestly, I’ve been on the front end of a lot of tech, but this? This is totally new to me. I’m so sorry.”
Sean’s explanation was disappointing to say the least, but to a large degree it was exactly what she expected. The Belgian hadn’t slipped up yet. Why would he start now?
“It’s okay. I appreciate you trying.” She hid the disappointment in her voice.
Sean didn’t buy it. “Look, I know that whatever is going on, it must be big. And I’m not going to pry for you to tell me. I’ll never do that unless you want me to. But if you need my help with whatever it is you’re doing, I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
“I know you would.” Sean was fiercely loyal, almost to a fault. He would do anything for her, which scared her a little. Most men were only after one thing. He genuinely seemed to care. They’d enjoyed a good relationship so far. He went his way, and she went hers. In between, they spent time together. But it was unnatural to live like that. They were essentially friends with a little romance sprinkled in. Even so, she knew he wasn’t seeing anyone else. And she certainly wasn’t.
He interrupted her thoughts suddenly. “I do have a name for you, though, that I think you’ll be interested in checking out. I had to do a little digging, but based on what Emily said, I think he’s probably the guy you’re looking for. Again, I’m not prying, and I don’t know why you’re trying to find him. Just saying you might want to check it out.”
“Emily told you I was looking for someone?” She wasn’t mad, but she should have known. Emily Starks and Sean were tight. They’d been partners for a long time at Axis, an undercover arm of the American government that specialized in covert operations the other agencies didn’t want to take on.
“Yeah. You know Em and I are close. She was worried about you. Anyway, I dug around and found a wealthy Belgian by the name of Stefan Martens. It’s unclear as to what all his businesses are involved with, but several are in the technology sector, which could explain our inability to triangulate his exact position. He’s kind of a shadowy character. Makes a lot of anonymous donations to charities.”
“Probably to give the appearance that he’s a humble saint.”
“Exactly. Anyway, he might be worth looking into further. I’m not really up to anything right now, so if you’d like I could—”
“Thank you, but I couldn’t ask you to do that. I’ll be okay on my own.”
“It’s no trouble, but I understand.” He paused, one of those long pauses that signaled he was trying to think of what to say next but wasn’t sure if he should or not. “Adriana, are you okay?”
She smiled. A tear puddled in the corner of her left eye, but she fought it off. She was beyond tired, even after resting the last couple of days. Her body was sore, and her mind was weak. The human body wasn’t built to take on such taxing activities. Throw on top of all that the fact her father was being held prisoner, and her emotions were a complete wreck. She wanted to tell Sean, to let him fly to Germany and just hold her all day. But she couldn’t do that. She had a painting to find.
“I’m fine,” she lied. “Thank you so much for your help, and for the package from your friend in Frankfurt. You included the device I requested, yes?”
“Yes.”
Adriana drew a deep breath and let it pass through her lips slowly. “Okay. Thank you, Sean. I…” She stopped herself short. Did she love him? By all accounts, she knew she did. But saying it was harder than feeling it. He’d come close to saying it a few times. She knew he had. It was just as hard for Sean as it was for her.
“I know,” he said through the device. She could almost see his dimpled smile.
“I’ll talk to you soon,” she said.
“Okay. Bye.”
She ended the call and slumped down on the edge of the bed. The tears were nearly unstoppable now, pushing their way through the nooks of her eyelids like a cracked dam. She dropped the phone on the comforter next to her and put both hands to her eyes, rubbing her fingers on them to force away the tears. She had to be strong right now. Her father was depending on her, whether he knew it or not. She had to get him back.