Rarities Unlimited 03 - Die in Plain Sight

do any good on the ultimate agreement. Nor had Rory come up with anything useful. The deal, such as it was, would stand—not all that Ward had hoped for, but a hell of a lot better than watching his empire nibbled to death by civic ducks.
    Angelique read through the papers with the speed and precision of the top executive she was; then she initialed the bottom of each page next to Savoy’s mark. Only two changes had been made. Neither was important to her. After she read the last page, she signed on the line above Savoy’s signature, wrote in the date, and smiled at him.
    “I can’t tell you how pleased I am about this,” she said. “It’s precisely the forward-looking, community-and family-oriented enterprise that I envisioned for New Horizons.”
    “We’re pleased, too,” Savoy said. “There were times we wondered if there was a deal to be made.”
    Angelique’s smile widened. “That’s what makes business so interesting, don’t you think? The uncertainty.”
    Ward smiled through his teeth. He had to hand it to her—she was one hard-nosed negotiator. But it was all wrapped up now. Finally.Everything he had worked and schemed for during his lifetime was secure. The name and accomplishments of Warden Garner Forrest would echo through the history of southern California.
    Forrest , not Savoy.
    Always assuming nothing else went wrong before the final deal was signed, of course.
    Nothing will go wrong , Ward promised himself. I’ve spent a lifetime of eating Savoy shit for this, and so did my father. It will happen
    Angelique quickly dealt with the remaining copies, stacked them neatly, and put all but one in the sleek leather briefcase that she’d brought. “I believe I’ll have a sip of champagne after all. This is a day worth celebrating. A historic collaboration of land and vision, plus dinner tonight with a great artist.” She smiled at Ward and Savoy equally. “Isn’t it wonderful that some of the missing paintings have been found?”
    Ward sat up straight. “What?”
    “Well, not found exactly. Not the exact same paintings, from what Susa said when I met her in the hallway,” Angelique explained, accepting the champagne flute that Savoy handed to her. “The young woman—Lacey, I believe—who brought the paintings Susa was so excited about apparently has a whole stash of them. So between that and Susa’s painting while she was here, the auction will proceed as expected. With all the publicity after the theft, it should be a complete sellout.”
    “Are you telling me that the Lacey woman has more paintings?” Ward demanded.
    “Yes. Isn’t it wonderful?”
    “Where?” he said curtly.
    Angelique hesitated, surprised by Ward’s intensity. “Where does she store the paintings? I haven’t any idea.”
    “My father,” Savoy said quickly before Ward could speak again, “is a collector. He loves the painter that did Lacey’s canvases. You’ve heard how collectors are—rabid.” He smiled. “Whether you know it or not, you’ve just waved a plate of pâté under a wolf’s sensitive nose.”
    She laughed. “I see. I’m rather obsessive myself about certain things.” She looked at Ward. “You’ll get to see the paintings tonight, plus some that Susa painted since the theft. Such a lovely hotel you have.”
    Angelique’s smile flashed. “Thank you for arranging it so that I could stay there, too. You meet the most interesting people.”
    Ward smiled with the automatic reflex of a man who’d climbed to the top the hard way. “Our pleasure.”
    Savoy smiled even though it irritated him that Angelique had poked into every bit of the Forrest holdings, including the paper trail that led to the Savoy Hotel.
    “So where are they keeping the paintings now?” Savoy asked Angelique.
    “Susa didn’t mention it. Rather close to her, I’d imagine.”
    “No need,” Ward said. “If the hotel hadn’t been turned upside down getting ready for the auction, the theft never would have happened.” He stood up. “Excuse me. I’ll check on security right now.”
    And while he was at it, he decided grimly, he would drill Rory a new asshole for losing track of Lacey Quinn just when she would have led him to a stash of Lewis Marten paintings.
    Christ, can’t anyone do the job anymore? Seems all I do is wipe asses and tie shoes for the next generation. Not a man in the lot of them.
    Angelique watched Ward stalk out, then turned back to Savoy. “Goodness, I didn’t mean to insult