Rarities Unlimited 03 - Die in Plain Sight

think it’s time for you to meet the folks at Rarities. Dana loves to have smart women around and you’ll be able to paint until your eyes cross.” And there are plenty of guards to keep Lacey safe while I find out what the hell is going on . “You two will have a great time.”
    Lacey just stared at him.
    “Okay,” he said, switching gears, “how about catching up with Susa and talking about your upcomings how?” From what I know about that outfit, the Donovans can take care of any little thing that comes up.
    “What’s wrong?” she asked.
    “The game just changed. You’re out.”
    She ignored him. “Who called?”
    “Public phone.” Automatically Ian checked the gun in the harness. Secure, loaded, ready to go.
    The reflexive gesture told Lacey more than words, but she wanted the words, too. “And?”
    Ian started the truck without answering.
    “Ignorance isn’t bliss,” she said. “Especially if there’s something dangerous. That’s why they post road signs. It keeps the ignorant from driving off cliffs.”
    He muttered something under his breath.
    Lacey kept watching his profile, waiting.
    Ian wove through San Diego traffic to the freeway and headed north.
    “Let me help you with your short-term planning,” she said tightly. “I’m not going to see Susa, I’m not going to visit Rarities, and the only ‘home’ I have is a hotel where a thief has a security passkey. Next suggestion?”
    Ian had already arrived at the same conclusion about the hotel. He just didn’t like it.
    “Shit,” he said under his breath.
    “As a suggestion, it lacks detail.”
    Against his will, Ian smiled. “Okay. The guy said you should stop looking for David Quinn and that this was the only warning you’d get.”
    A combination of fear and fury swept through her. She let the rage burn away the cold fear. “That’s it? Just a ‘get out of Dodge’ edict?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Fuck him.”
    He glanced sideways for an instant, then back to the brawling steel race of the freeway. He’d expected the fear he saw in her, but the anger surprised him. It shouldn’t have. Right now he was mad enough to kill, and it came from fear of her getting hurt.
    “I’d rather bury him,” Ian said.
    “That, too.” She blew out a hard breath, trying to think through the wild turmoil of her emotions. “Was he serious?”
    “Public phone, disguised voice, untraceable. Yeah, I’d have to think he meant it. Or she. Couldn’t tell.”
    “Why is he or she so worried about me asking questions?”
    “If we knew that, we’d have a handle on who.”
    “Is paranoia catching?” she asked after a moment.
    “I don’t know. What are your symptoms?”
    “Maybe I’m just having a string of bad luck—fire, theft, death threat—but I’m beginning to feel hunted.”
    “The fire was an accident,” Ian said neutrally. “It said so in the report.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “The theft was aimed at Susa. Common sense says so.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    Silence grew. And grew.
    “It’s catching,” Ian said reluctantly. “I have it, too.”
    “You don’t think I’m being crazy?”
    “Before that telephone call I was paranoid. Now I’m certain.”
    Her mouth went suddenly dry. She’d really hoped she was weaving smoke. “Of what?”
    “Correct me if I’m wrong on this, but up until the charity benefit, your grandfather’s art was out of public sight.”
    “Yes.”
    “The art goes public, everyone goes nuts, someone tries to buy it and someone else tries to burn it. When that doesn’t work, it’s stolen. Then a whole new stash of the art is found. I’ll bet that put somebody’s gonads in a twist.”
    “Who?” she asked.
    “Whoever doesn’t want David Quinn’s history or his art out in public.”
    Too many deaths. Not enough police work. Ain’t nothing changed. Stay away from it, boy.
    He should have taken his great-uncle’s advice, but he hadn’t. Now the woman he loved was in danger.
    Too many deaths.

Laguna Beach
    Late Monday afternoon
58
    U sually Lacey thrived on art galleries, but at the moment she was suffering overload. She and Ian had both agreed that it would be smart to plow through as many galleries as possible before the caller had a chance to track her down.
    Anybody who wanted to find her would have to move fast. Eleven galleries so far today, starting with two in Palm Desert, followed by four in San Diego, two in La Jolla, and three in Laguna Beach. In the past twenty-four hours, she’d seen a