Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 105921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
"How?" I pressed, trying to make the pieces fit together in my mind.
"They told you, didn't they?" Bryce demanded of Elliott. Bryce lurched to his feet, swaying a little, and shot Elliott a look of utter scorn. Elliott tried to look innocent, and Bryce moved his glare to Tenn and me. "I hired the Learys to steal the bust for me. They double-crossed me and decided to keep it for themselves."
"Only because you told them how much it was really worth," Elliott accused, shaking his head. "Fucking moron."
"I'm the moron? I was watching the auction house the whole time, saw you break in, followed you home, and you never spotted me. I let you do all the hard work. Like taking candy from a baby." Bryce's sneer was getting to Elliott.
Before this whole thing devolved into an infantile pissing contest, I cut in. "If Bryce stole it from you," I asked Elliott, "is he going to give it back? Is that why you're here?" I looked between my ex-husband and Tenn's cousin.
"Fucking waste of time. I spent weeks trying to crack it. Good fucking luck, man. Prentice's story is bullshit. It's just an ugly statue. Give me my cash and it's yours."
Elliott put on his most charming smile and aimed it straight at me. "I'd love to, but there's a slight hitch in my offer."
Oh yeah, I knew what was coming. I'd lived this enough times while we were married. "Let me guess," I butted in, "You promised to pay Bryce for the bust, but you don't actually have any cash."
"I'm a little short right now. I won't get paid until I have the bust, and I can't get the bust without the cash."
"What was your plan, Elliott?" I demanded, too exasperated to tone it down for the kids. "Just roll into town and hit me up for—" I speared Bryce with a furious glare. "How much?"
"Fifty thousand dollars," Bryce supplied, eyes narrowed at Elliott.
"What?" Thatcher's outrage knocked me back a step. "You wanted Mom to give you fifty thousand dollars? We don't have fifty thousand dollars! Where was she—" The answer to his question came clear before he finished asking. Throwing a glance at Tenn, he refocused on his father. "You were going to ask her to hit Tenn up for it, weren't you?"
Elliott shrugged and tried his charming smile on his son. "He wouldn't even notice that much, and he's so nuts over your mom, he'd—"
Thatcher wasn't having it. "Shut up! Just shut up!"
Shouts exploded in the air. "Turn and face the car. Hands where I can see them!" I spun around to see West and Hawk bearing down on us, guns drawn, two deputies behind them.
West was on Bryce a second later, dragging his raised hands down and behind his back, cuffing him with expert ease before shoving Bryce at the deputy. "We have you breaking into Tenn's vehicle and admitting to using it to smuggle art off the property."
"You can't arrest me!" Bryce protested. "Tenn was driving the car. It was his—"
"You can tell your story at the station. The deputy's going to bring you in, and we'll have a nice long chat about all that missing art and what you did with it."
"He owes me!" Bryce protested, trying to twist away from the deputy.
"Owes you for what, exactly?" West asked slowly. "For the transfer of stolen property? Can you produce a receipt showing you're the rightful owner of that ugly little statue?"
"No," a new voice interrupted. "That would be me."
Forrest Powell stepped into view, a folded packet of papers in his hand. Handing them to West, he waited while West looked them over. West shoved the papers into his pocket with a nod and stepped to Tenn to take the bust of Vitellius. I expected him to hand it to Forrest, but he shook his head.
"If you're the rightful owner of this piece, you can have it after I verify your paperwork. Stop by my office Monday morning and we'll work it out."
Forrest gave a resigned nod. "Another day or two doesn't matter, but make sure that thing is locked up. This idiot's bosses are still after it," he added, nodding at Elliott.
"Why?" I asked, champagne and adrenaline loosening my tongue. "Why that piece? It's not worth anything close to fifty thousand dollars."
Forrest paused, scanning the small group. His eyes landed on Bryce, still held by the deputy. "He knows."
Bryce's handsome face twisted. "Prentice was full of shit. He said it was a puzzle, and the person who could solve it would be rich beyond his wildest dreams. Fairy tale bullshit. Prentice never solved it. He would have told me."
"Because you were so close?" Tenn asked, one eyebrow raised, his expression one of withering scorn. "You found out Prentice put it up for auction and figured you'd help yourself? Are you the reason the Learys knew about it?"