Allyson’s feet shuffled forward a few inches. She had the advantage, at least temporarily. Adriana was trapped in the little space in front of the door, between the bathroom and closet. Sure, she had the exit, but by the time she reached for the handle, Allyson could be on her. Space was at a premium, even in the five-star, three-hundred-square-foot room.
“I’m not doing this job for money,” Adriana repeated. She sized up her opponent. Allyson’s cheap sunglasses had fallen on the floor, and her hat was hanging on loosely to the thick, curly hair stuffed inside.
“I don’t care. I am. And I’m perfectly fine with killing you for it. In fact, I’m very okay with killing you. That will make it much easier to get the third painting.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Adriana shook her head back and forth in a slow, dramatic fashion. “When the last painting is delivered, they’re going to kill us both.”
The comment broke the insane look on Allyson’s face. For a moment, she calmed down. “What do you mean?”
Adriana held a hand out, signaling she had no intention of attacking. “Look, we can beat the crap out of each other here in this hotel room, break a bunch of stuff, make a bunch of noise, and quite likely get arrested, in which case, neither of us wins.”
“True. Or?”
“Or you can take five minutes to hear what I have to say.”
Allyson considered the offer. She still clutched her ridiculous but still-dangerous weapon threateningly in one hand. “Kick your bag over there.” She pointed with her free hand at the corner between the wall and bed.
“Okay.” Adriana nodded and carefully pushed the rucksack across the floor a few feet so it was out of reach.
She was taking a gamble. Even though the other woman was only armed with a pointy plastic stick, the object could puncture the skin or put out an eye. Adriana wasn’t afraid of that, though. What concerned her was the close quarters and getting caught by the authorities should anyone send security up to the room. An all-out brawl with Allyson was one Adriana believed winnable. To be fair, she thought all her fights were winnable. Right now, however, wasn’t the time for fighting. It was time to talk.
“You going to put that thing down?” she asked, pointing at the stick in Allyson’s hand.
Allyson hesitated for a second and then tossed it aside. “You’re wrong. They aren’t going to kill us.” She sounded as if her belief was only partial. “Maybe the guy you’re working for would do that but not mine. I’m like a daughter to him.”
The word daughter sent a pang through Adriana’s heart as she thought of her father. She suppressed any external expressions of the emotion, though, keeping her cool and remaining focused.
“I don’t know who I am working for. He never revealed his face. But I have spoken with some people who know about what these men are a part of.”
The blank look on Allyson’s face said enough. She had no idea what Adriana was talking about.
“The syndicate. You haven’t heard of it?”
The vapid stare continued. Clearly, Allyson was unaware of the secret billionaire club.
Adriana explained. “This isn’t the first time these men have done something like this. It’s a game for them, with the highest stakes involved. You wanted to know what they’re paying me?”
Allyson nodded.
“They aren’t. They took my father and said if I didn’t bring in all three paintings, they would kill him.” Adriana could tell Allyson wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth, even though her eyes remained steady.
“I was told I only had to bring in one of the three paintings, but I’d be paid for each one I retrieved.”
That was a new wrinkle. Why would the other guy only care about getting one of the three? There was only one conclusion. The Belgian wanted all three, and his rival wanted to keep that from happening.
Before Adriana could speak, Allyson cut her off. “What was in the bank? Why were you there?”
“There was nothing there. If you were watching us, and I assume you were, you saw we came out with nothing.”
“Then why did you go in there?”
Adriana relaxed a little to show a sign of good faith. A crazy thought occurred to her. Maybe they could work together. Doubtful, but possibly worth the try. “We found a clue, an account number connected to that bank. It belonged to a man who was an officer in the Nazi army during the war. We believed that the painting might have been in the bank.”
“But you couldn’t get in? Banks like that are nearly impossible to break into. You should know that. Unless you were doing some reconnaissance. Is that what you were doing? Scoping it out to see what the security was like?” Her face finally broke from bewilderment, eyes narrowing to slits as she shook her head in derision. “If the painting is there, then neither one of us—”
“It isn’t there,” Adriana interrupted her. “We looked in the safety deposit box. It was empty. The banker said that the account had been inactive for quite some time. He claimed he didn’t know who removed the contents of the box or when it happened.”
Allyson shook her head. “You’re lying. It’s in there. Isn’t it?” Her insistent tone bordered on insanity. From the looks of her, she wasn’t far from it.
“I’m telling you the truth. It isn’t there.”
“How do you know they showed you the right box?” Allyson’s voice was getting desperate, matching the crazed look on her face.
“They could have shown me all the boxes in the bank; the painting isn’t there.”
“And how do you know that? What makes you so sure?”
“Because the banker stole it.”
Before Allyson could ask how Adriana was privy to that information, the Spaniard kept going. “When we were in his office, his mouth said one thing, but his body language said something altogether different. He’s the one who took the painting, I’m certain of it. As soon as he heard the name of the man who’d owned the account, he became very… uncomfortable, like he knew his wrongdoing was about to be discovered.”
“Isn’t it possible that they lost it or it was stolen? Maybe that’s why he was so thrown off.”
Adriana disagreed. “You said it yourself. That bank would be extremely hard to break into.” She raised an eyebrow. “Unless, of course, it was an inside job.”
“So you believe that this banker, whoever he is, stole the painting. Who is this guy? What does he do there?”
“He’s the president of the bank. He oversees all the daily operations, though from what I gathered, he usually engages with higher-end clientele. It would have been easy for him to get into the safety deposit box. He even had access to the key, which he let us use to investigate.”
“That seems highly irregular.” Allyson let down her guard a little. Adriana could tell she was, at the very least, curious.
“I thought so too. The man with us showed his identification and signed some forms, but for a Swiss bank, it seemed far too easy. I didn’t say anything, choosing instead to let him go through the whole charade. I knew from the first five minutes that the painting was nowhere in the bank’s vaults.”
Allyson tensed up a little. “If it isn’t there, then where would it be?”
At least she was following the story so far. There were any number of scenarios Adriana could think of. Too many were plausible. Only one made the most sense. “It’s at the banker’s house.”
“There’s no way you know that for sure unless he told you.” Allyson instantly realized how stupid the insinuation was as soon as it came out of her mouth.
“Why would he do that?” Adriana shook her head; her face posed a questioning expression like it was the dumbest question she’d ever heard. “Besides, he didn’t have to tell me. I know that’s where it is. Just from the way he squirmed.”