Rarities Unlimited 03 - Die in Plain Sight

answer would be different from the other galleries that had called.
    “Not at this point, but that could change at any moment,” Mrs. Katz said. “The owner has guaranteed that the instant the paintings are available, my gallery will represent them.”
    “I’ll wait for your call,” he said, and hung up.
    He didn’t expect to be waiting long. Estate sales happened quickly after death. The tax collector saw to it. As for the death, he would see to it, personally.
    Maybe that will be the end of it. Finally.
    But just in case it wasn’t, he had some paintings to burn.

Savoy Hotel
    Monday night
61
    Y ou’re looking at that door like you’ve never seen one,” Lacey said. She took off her coat and shook off raindrops as she ran her fingers through her wildly curling hair. “Is something wrong with it?”
    “I was thinking about leaving it untouched except for the automatic electronic lock. Make it easy on the bastard if he tries to break in again.” But even as Ian said it, he was throwing the bolt and jamming in his own handy little wedge.
    “Why would you want to make it easy for anyone to break in?” she asked, startled.
    Ian shrugged out of his wet denim jacket. Water stood in his short hair, making it spiky. “Because I’d like to have a little chat with him.”
    “If he’s the one that made the telephone call,” she said, rubbing her arms uneasily, “I don’t have anything to say to him.”
    “I do. And then he’ll have a lot to say to me.”
    The thin curve of Ian’s lips had nothing in common with the smilethat put children and bankers at ease. This smile was frankly predatory, as hard as the gun waiting beneath his jacket.
    “You don’t look very friendly,” she said.
    “I’m not feeling very friendly.” Then he turned toward her and held out his arms. Bags of deli food dangled from one big hand. “Present company excepted.”
    She stepped close to him and let herself be wrapped up and hugged. Beneath the smiles and light conversation she’d been keeping up all afternoon, she was scared and off-balance, wondering where her secure world had gone.
    “I’m still trying to understand…” Her voice died.
    “What?”
    “Everything. So much has happened, it’s like a wave that keeps breaking, tumbling me around. Granddad, Susa, you, me.” She took a swift breath that tasted of Ian. “The threat. Why would anyone want to kill me? What have I done to deserve it?”
    He tilted her chin up with his free hand and kissed her tenderly. “Some people don’t need a reason.”
    “But most people do.”
    “Sex. Money. Power. Secrets. Insanity.”
    “Well, that really narrows the field.” She rubbed her forehead against his neck and fought the chill that kept taking her by surprise. “Nobody’s going to kill for sex with me.”
    “Wanna bet?” he asked.
    “I’m trying to be serious here.”
    He nuzzled her ear. “I’m serious.”
    Despite her uneasiness, she smiled. “You’re not the one threatening me.”
    “Dang. I’m going to have to work on my technique. Puppy dogs don’t get as far as wolves.”
    She went nose to nose and eye to eye with him. “You’re trying to distract me.”
    “Yeah.”
    “This time are you going to tell me why you insisted we move my grandfather’s paintings?”
    “I was bored.”
    “Damn it, Ian—”
    “Okay, okay,” he said quickly. “I’m paranoid, remember?”
    “So am I, remember?” she retorted. “You tell me your paranoid fantasy and I’ll tell you mine.”
    “I don’t think telling you will make you feel any better or help you dodge trouble down the road, so what’s the point?”
    “All right.” She stepped away. “How about I tell you my paranoid fantasy?”
    He thought of going to her, holding her again, reassuring both of them that she was safe and everything was all right. But she wasn’t and everything wasn’t, and fuzzy thinking like that could get her killed.
    “Are you telling me before or after we open this deli stuff and get greasy?” Ian asked.
    “During.”
    He gave up trying to distract her. “I’m listening. But only if you sit down and eat instead of picking at food the way you’ve done since the call.”
    She didn’t have to ask which call. She just watched him unwrap a turkey club sandwich that had to be six inches thick and was held together with a toothpick as long as a dagger. She’d thought when she ordered it that something bland like turkey would be easier to eat, but it was the