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purposeful strides, letting the wind clear her head, letting her blood bubble. “I’d have gone on believing it, if it hadn’t been for the David .”
    “Good thing I stole it.”
    She slanted a look at him. He was matching his pace to hers, and appeared to be enjoying a casual walk on a breezy afternoon. “Apparently,” she muttered. “Why that piece? Why did you steal that particular piece?”
    “I told you, I had a client.”
    “Who?”
    His lips curved. “Really, Miranda, some things are sacred.”
    “They could be connected.”
    “My David and your lady? That’s reaching.”
    “ My David and my lady—and it’s not that long a reach. They’re both bronzes, both Renaissance works, Standjo and the Institute are connected, and I worked on both. Those are facts. Both were genuine, both were replaced by copies.”
    “And those are speculations, not facts.”
    “It’s an educated and logical theory,” she corrected, “and the basis for a preliminary conclusion.”
    “I’ve known this client for several years. Believe me, he isn’t interested in complicated plots and schemes. He simply sees something he wants, puts in an order. If I think it’s doable, I do it. We keep it simple.”
    “Simple.” It was an attitude she was grateful she would never understand.

    “And,” he added, “he would hardly have commissioned me to steal a forgery.”
    Her brow creased at that. “I still believe whoever replaced the David replaced The Dark Lady .”
    “I’ll agree it’s a definite, and intriguing, possibility.”
    “I’d be able to solidify that conclusion if I was able to examine both pieces and compare them.”
    “Okay.”
    “Okay, what?”
    “Let’s do it.”
    She stopped at the base of the lighthouse, where the shale crunched under her feet. “Do what?”
    “Compare them. We have one. It’s just a matter of getting the other.”
    “Stealing it? Don’t be ridiculous.”
    He grabbed her arm as she turned away. “You want to know the truth, don’t you?”
    “Yes, I want the truth, but I’m not flying to Italy, breaking into a government facility, and stealing a worthless copy.”
    “No reason we can’t take something worthwhile while we’re there. Just a thought,” he added when her mouth dropped open. “If you’re right, and we prove it, you’ll more than salvage your reputation. You’ll make it.”
    It was impossible, insane. It couldn’t be done. But she saw the gleam in his eye and wondered. “Why would you bother? What would you get out of it?”
    “If you’re right, it brings me a step closer to the original David . I have my reputation to salvage too.”
    And if she was right, he thought, and The Dark Lady was real, he’d be a step closer to that as well. He’d find her. What a marvelous addition she would make to his private collection.
    “I’m not breaking the law.”
    “You already are. You’re standing here with me, aren’t you? You’re an accessory after the fact, Dr. Jones.” He swung his arm companionably over her shoulder. “I didn’t hold a gun to your head or a knife to your back. You took me in past your security,” he continued, walking back toward the house. “You’ve spent the day with me, fully aware I’m holding stolen property. You’re already in.” He gave her a friendly kiss on top of the head. “Might as well see it through.”
    He checked his watch, calculated. “You go up and pack. We’ll need to swing through New York first. I have some things to tidy up there, and I need to pick up some clothes and tools.”
    “Tools?” She pushed her hair away from her face. Better not to know, she decided. “I can’t just fly off to Italy. I have to talk to Andrew. I have to explain.”
    “Leave him a note,” Ryan suggested, and pulled open the back door. “Make it brief, and tell him you’re going away for a couple of weeks. Leave it at that, and you leave him out of it if the cops get too nosey.”
    “The police. If I leave this way before the investigation is complete, they might think I was involved.”
    “Adds to the excitement, doesn’t it? Better not use your phone,” he murmured. “Always a possibility of the records being checked. I’ll get mine out of my bag. I need to call my cousin Joey.”
    Her head was reeling. “Your cousin Joey?”
    “He’s a travel agent. Go pack,” he repeated. “He’ll get us on the first flight out. Don’t forget your passport—and your laptop. We’ll want to finish going