Fatal Forgeries

by Ritter Ames

  “Dammit, Jack.” I rubbed my hands up the rough cloth of his shirt. “I have really missed you.”

  He pulled me into his arms. “Then let’s make up for th—”

  “No.” I pulled free. “I mean it. I need you.” I launched into every incident and harrowing event that occurred while he was incommunicado. I finished by pulling my phone from my pocket and keying up the video link.

  “Nico didn’t send anything else?” Jack asked as the video finished the second time, and he handed back the cell phone.

  “No, just the cryptic message and then this link,” I said. “Can you get some whiz-techy guy at MI-6 to see if there’s any kind of hidden digital fingerprint to track Nico internationally with this?”

  Jack shrugged. “I could, but then my whiz-techy guy would probably want to know who the gorgeous blonde is who’s ripping off the painting in France.”

  “My hair doesn’t show under the hood.”

  “The guy I know is like Nico. He’d find a way to figure out what’s under the hood too.” Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, don’t hate me for what I’m about to ask, but you’re sure Nico was taken and not turned?”

  “Dammit, you’re just like Cassie. She asked the same thing last night when she first reported he’d put the GorgeousGeek message on the board. What is it with the two of you? If he’d turned, why would he send messages?”

  “Still, you have to admit people and events have not acted in a completely linear order these past few months. From Simon to Rollie to Moran to your father, everyone seems to playing to their own right of center.”

  “Not Nico. Not every man in my life is playing a dual role, though you certainly acted like you were in the beginning as well, and I…” I stopped talking and looked away, so he wouldn’t see the tears welling in my eyes.

  “The question had to be asked.”

  I took a deep breath, keeping my gaze on a rosebush that had been covered to protect it in the January temperatures. I swiped at my eyes. When I could talk without crying, I said, “And I gave you the answer. I know you’ve had some concerns about Nico’s loyalty in the past and voiced them in Rome, but—”

  “I just want to know who and what I’m working with. That’s why I asked what I did in Rome.”

  “I trust Nico. I’m not saying he doesn’t moonlight on other jobs if he wants to, and I don’t ask. But he’s always there when I need him, and he currently needs us. And he needs us to trust him.” I finally felt ready to turn back and meet his gaze. I stood with my hands fisted on my hips. “So I’ll ask again. Do you know anyone who might be able to use these messages to try to nail down a location? His phone GPS isn’t tracking, so it’s not turned on, and he’s using the kidnappers’ equipment to contact us with these messages. If we can get some kind of digital fingerprint on the device…” I shrugged. I’d reached the end of my virtual vocabulary.

  Jack frowned, pulling his dark brows close together. The white hair made his expression frightening. “I’m not sure what to do. According to your interpretation, Nico said he was safe enough in the first coded message. If I raise an alarm anywhere we could cock up anything he has planned. But if we can track him at all, I see your point that we should try.”

  “I know, I came to the same conclusion after weighing the risks all night. I’m so out of my skillset here, Jack.” I crossed my arms and looked at the browning groundcover under our feet. “I feel like all of this is my fault. If I wasn’t a part of this, Ermo Colle wouldn’t have taken Nico. Or Moran. Or Rollie. Or whoever had him kidnapped and tried to kidnap me.”

  “No, if you weren’t a part of this Simon would still be playing all sides without any check whatsoever, and would likely have kidnapped Nico if he’s important to their plan—or if they want him out of our plans.”

  I looked up at him. “I have three smart-ass remarks I could say to you right now.”

  He threw his hands in the air. “I said that to make you feel better.”

  “I don’t want to feel better. I want to know we’ll find a way to get him back.” I took a deep breath. “See if your techy guy can find something to help us. If he wants to know who’s stealing the painting, tell him. Tell him anything he needs to know to make him interested enough to work this thing. Throw me under the bus. If necessary, take out a pair of cuffs and arrest me yourself. It’s a small price to pay.”

  His smile was wicked, his voice quiet. “I was kind of saving the cuffs for a different kind of activity with you.”

  “Dammit, Jack.” I backhanded his upper arm. “I’m serious.”

  “I know. However, it won’t do any good until we get additional intel from Nico.” He took hold of my shoulders, and I shook him loose.

  “So it’s okay for you to feel guilty,” he said, fuming. “But it’s not okay for me to give the reasons why you shouldn’t.”

  “Exactly.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “Too bad.”

  We stared at each other. I finally decided to be the first to blink. “How about we change the subject? I need some time to deal with what’s fogging up my brain.”

  He nodded.

  “So why are you here?” I asked.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  I lowered my voice. “I mean, are you working? Are you still undercover?”

  He shook his head and leaned back against the stone wall. “Everything went smoothly. We planned for extenuating circumstances but lucked out instead. I’m working through the debriefing and informational phase of the mission.”

  “I’m glad.” I hugged my body in the chill morning. He stepped closer and opened his arms. I walked into the embrace.

  He chuckled. “I never dreamed Marci was the friend who called you.”

  “I don’t think I mentioned her name.”

  “No, but what you did say about her fits now that I know.”

  I rubbed my hand along his back. “So her father…”

  “And my mother,” he finished. He rested his head on top of mine.

  I remembered Jack said his mother fell for a married man after she left the artist Sebastian, who was also married while they were together. Obviously, she had a type.

  “Marci never mentioned a brother. At least I don’t remember her talking about one. But in finishing school we had too many rules to break. And when we weren’t partying that college summer we practically lived together, we were usually passed out somewhere. As much from exhaustion as alcohol,” I said. “I was working through grief and anger in a quite efficient self-destructive way. Your sister kept me from ending up in the hospital. And she found parties to keep me focused on anything but reality. Siblings didn’t really come up in the few quiet and sober conversations we had.”

  “Given the circumstances, I’m not usually trotted out for company viewing.”

  I leaned back to see his face. “That’s awful.”

  He shook his head.

  “No need to be offended on my behalf. Marci and my father are supportive. But my presence tends to make the dragon lady breathe fire.”

  “Marci’s mother. Lady Menton.”

  “She paid a lot for that title and intends to get full benefit,” he said. Quieter, he added, “Not that I blame her.”

  I was starting to get a full picture of the outline Marci’d hinted at earlier. “He stayed with his wife.”

  “My mother wouldn’t marry him. She was like that.” He took a deep breath. “And Marci’s conception was part of the equation. If Lady Menton hadn’t realized she was pregnant around the time my birth became news, the outcome may have been different.”

  “From what Mars told me, the party planner is charged with keeping her mother busy today,” I said. “I think the greater the number of changes she asks for, the higher the fee the planner receives.”

  “Whatever th
e planner is getting paid, it isn’t enough.” He chuckled. “So you’re the one who calls her Mars.”

  “Always have.” I leaned close and relaxed against his chest. “She said her father’s in Hong Kong. Are you staying—?”

  “No.” I felt his chin on the top of my head, and he just held me. I’d needed this. The last thirty-six hours zapped me physically and mentally. He continued, “I came here because I’m required to report to a member of Parliament, so Father was my first choice. I knew he’d believe what I said without question.”

  “Guns?”

  “Yeah.”

  I knew he wouldn’t elaborate, but I wondered if there was any tie to our heist project. Crates of illegal guns shared space on a Florence rooftop with forged masterpieces when Jack and I tiptoed through there in October. If he believed there was a connection, he would tell me when he could. My patience was getting a workout lately.

  “But I can’t give this kind of information over an unsecured line to the Far East,” he said. “I’ll go into London and make some phone calls. See who I can get in to see today. You’re going with me.”

  “Your sister isn’t going to like it.”

  “This isn’t the first time I’ve disappointed her, and I doubt it will be the last. Let’s go and get your things.”

  As I stepped back so he could join me again on the path, I waved a finger in a circle in front of him. “Your fashion faux pas may get you kicked out of any of the offices in Parliament.”

  “The tattoos will be removed once I get home. And I’ll put on a suit and tie.” He slipped an arm around my waist. “Satisfied?”

  “And the hair?”

  “By this evening I’ll be my normal hot self.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Just checking.” Then I asked, “Does your sister know…you know…what you do?”

  “I’ve told her less than I’ve revealed to you,” he said. “Not that she really cares what department I’m with, but she wants me to be safe, and this job doesn’t promise that. So she doesn’t ask. But as an MP’s daughter she’s grown up with secrets in the house. This is simply another one.”

  As we reentered the house, I glanced out the front windows. “Where’s your car?” Then it hit me. “You don’t mean…”

  He gave a slow grin and said in what I called his Southern Charmer accent, “We’ll be taking to the skies, darlin’. Just think of it as your personal flying carpet.”

  ELEVEN

  Marci’s reaction to my leaving with Jack was exactly as I predicted. The way her face darkened when he told her the plan—I chickened out—also made me wonder if she might take after her mother much more than she admitted. However, after he pulled her aside and whispered something in her ear, her face brightened and a few seconds later she smiled. When she joined me to go upstairs to pack, I asked what Jack told her.

  She remained cagey, simply saying, “Just that I’ll see you soon. We’ll have dinner or something. You’ll see.”

  Which made me wonder what “or something” could be.

  I didn’t push it, however. There was already too much on my mind. The white wrapped gift still sat in the shopping bag, and I pulled it out and handed it to Marci. “This is for you and Giovanni. A celebration gift. And best wishes for tomorrow at the tea.”

  Her smile broadened as she accepted the box. She started to tug on the bow. “I’ll open it now.”

  “Open it later with Van,” I stopped her. “Have a bottle of champagne chilling nearby.”

  She laughed and set the box on the dresser. “Brilliant. I’ll leave it here so I’m not tempted.”

  When we returned downstairs, Jack was working on his phone, but put it away as we drew near.

  “I wish you could at least stay for lunch. Mummy will hate that she’s missed you, Big Brother.” Marci winked.

  “I’m sure she will.” He flashed a sardonic grin that looked more mocking than normal given his temporary punk disguise.

  A car pulled up at the front of the house, and Barnes passed us to open the door.

  “Oh, bother, there’s the event planner,” Marci said. “I need to make sure she’s ready to take on my mother.”

  “We’ll see ourselves out, sis,” Jack said, kissing her forehead. “Good luck.”

  “Bye, Mars,” I said, pulling her into a hug. “Appreciate…everything.”

  She whispered in my ear, “Someday I will get the whole story. About why you showed up early and…everything else.”

  Pulling away, I smiled and said, “You will,” hoping I could keep that promise.

  Jack led me back through a part of the house I hadn’t seen yet but was equally taken with. Despite the modern touches, it was easy to imagine stepping back into the reign of King James I. We exited the house through a door to the back garden, leaving us within sight of the helicopter. I took a last sweeping glance at the amazing house and grounds.

  As he did his preflight checks, Jack said, “I sent Nico’s photo to a mate of mine who has access to yesterday’s CCTV. He’ll do what he can, then report back if he gets any hits or spots any activity to tell us who waylaid Nico.”

  “Thank you. I assume he’ll do it between other duties, right? I mean, if Nico thinks he has a plan—”

  “Exactly.” Jack nodded. “I stressed this had to stay quiet. If the situation changes, I’m ready to go official. But I don’t want to compromise anything Nico is doing himself. Do you have a code for ‘send in the cavalry’?”

  “Three asterisks.” I sent up a silent prayer that things would stay in “trio plus sign” status.

  Once the rotors engaged and the helicopter rose from the pad, we could talk with the headsets but still had to kind of shout. Jack gave me a quick aerial tour of Robbsham, nearly three hundred acres of cleared and semi-wild parkland.

  “There used to be another couple of hundred acres,” he shouted into the mic. “But all the farmland was broken up and sold. Now Father keeps it open for riding and hunting to unwind when he’s tired of London. They hold a kite flying weekend here every spring too. People come from all over. We’ll have to attend the next one. You’ll like it.”

  I smiled, but my stomach fluttered. Planning events in the future. Family events. I wasn’t completely sure how I felt about the idea, despite my longtime friendship with Marci. He got my attention again by pointing out a couple of other local spots that sat adjacent to the property. One was an ancient pub and inn still catering to the same generations of families who had come through the doors for three and four hundred years.

  “They serve a great Sunday roast and ale,” he said.

  “Sounds like a lovely place to while away a lazy afternoon.”

  He nodded. “Dogs are respected the same as their owners. Sit on the floor under the booths and chairs.”

  Easy to imagine Sugar in a place like that and feeling completely at home, waiting for a slice of beef to fall her way.

  Too little sleep and way too much stress meant I had a headache coming on. Jack seemed happy to stay less than communicative as we flew the rest of the distance, but I assumed it had to do with the serious information he’d come to deliver and still had to carry with him to London. His conversation was kept to pointing out landmarks and saying we’d discuss things after we landed.

  I was more interested in watching him pilot the chopper anyway. I had no idea why I was surprised to learn he could fly. He’d been in the Royal Navy, after all, and helicopters were an obvious tool for that branch of the military. He was just so matter of fact about all of it.

  I think his of course attitude was what threw me. I’d listened to enough of his half-truths and cocky talk when we’d started working the same clues, I was continually startled when I learned another example to prove how well-trained he was for his job. Though, once I thought about it, I realized most of his bragging usually carried only a conservative measure
of the man’s true talents. Whatever the job entailed.

  I sat in the copilot’s chair and watched the English landscape slip past us. This wasn’t my first helicopter ride, but I felt as if I viewed everything with fresh eyes. I thought about the aborted tour of Marci’s home and wished we had the opportunity to visit the family portrait gallery she’d mentioned. A theory floated in my head about the Debrett’s comment Tina Schroeder made when she met us in Miami. Tina social climbed for sport, so I’d dismissed her comment during her introduction to Jack as a side effect of a ditzy personality. Although with what I knew now, I had a strong suspicion if Marci had walked me by the formal portrait of her father, it would have immediately been apparent why Tina thought of the big book of peers and baronages when she saw Jack’s face that day. The next time I had a little privacy and a solid wi-fi connection I’d google images of Lord Menton.

  While we ’coptered most of the length of the country, I spent my copiloting time making lists on my phone’s notes app. We were flying low, but not low enough to have a steady connection. I refreshed my email inbox whenever I could, hoping one of Nico’s nerdy friends had sent a message or forwarded an email. All to no avail.

  “You’re going to drive yourself bonkers,” Jack almost-yelled over the comms. “Though you do get top points for loyalty.”

  “I keep thinking—”

  “Overthinking.”

  I nodded and turned back to my phone.

  Much sooner than I’d imagined, we hovered above London’s City Airport. As soon as we’d touched down and Jack finished the various paperwork, he called and gave the helicopter’s location to someone at the other end of the line, then turned to me.

  “Now to grab the first Tube connection.”

  Jack wasn’t the strangest-looking guy on the train, but he was easily the scariest. No one crowded us.

  “Where first?” I asked quietly.

  He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. “The new office. Get you locked in before I head to Westminster.”

  “When are you going to…clean up?”