“I'll give you one. Go.” She folded her arms, flaunting clout with her upturned nose.
“If you're so desirable, why did you need to rely on a love potion to seduce Lee, huh? Why hide pheromones in his toilet tank?”
“I did no such thing, and that was two questions.” She bustled forward.
Gal cast a surprising shrug at Lee. “Then how did a vial of Bombykol get there?”
“Look at me, darling. Do I need pheromones? Now if you excuse me, little suka, I have places to be.” She pushed past Galaxy's folded arms, but Gal stood her ground, tired of being called a bitch by these self-important lowlifes. Remembering who she was, she threw her weight forward, knocking Kat back.
“Our lab tech said it was moth pheromones,” Gal blared, feeling defiant, and now foolish hearing it out loud.
“Do you believe everything your lab man tells you?”
Her snickering indicated an inside joke she was not privy to. Suddenly she was back in grade school, slurping a thermos of borsch and crunchy smelt while derogatory half-breed names taunted her in Irish dialect. She hadn't known the meaning, but the negative tone stung like stones. Now Gal lobbed a look at Lee, imploring him to toss her a lifeline after defending him in that small way.
Lee surveilled the scene like a sweeping light beacon. “The vial's mine,” he admitted, at last.
“After all your denials, you used it…” Punched in the gut by betrayal, Gal could barely breathe.
“No, they aren't chemicals of attraction,” he assured her. “It's spy dust.”
“So you dusted me with this stuff?”
“No, I never put anything on you. It's not even pheromone. It's illumination powder. What we have is pure, unadulterated heat.”
Kat retched in protest. “Silly girl, what good would it do to hide a vial labeled correctly? That would be too obvious.”
“So, you're working with them! You're still with her then.” The slap of infidelity chafed her cheek, the words thorns on her tongue. She clasped the doorknob to steady herself.
“Not a chance. I'm rogue.”
“Why you double crosser—” Kat menaced.
Lee continued to aim the revolvers at the riffraff. “But we were an item last year when, unbeknownst to me, the heist was hatched. Once I caught on, I only pretended to help, and we broke up soon after. I didn't know she was the great Katjarina. So tell me, Kate, why the hook-up if you were married to him?” It was obvious Galaxy's heart wasn't the only one pilfered by these two.
Defying the threshold, Katja stepped close, whispering into his ear. “You've heard of keeping your friends close and your enemy right under your nose.” She traced his lips with a perfect manicured finger. He had the urge to bite it, to chomp it clean off.
“I know that one well,” he acknowledged, eyeing Gal. “So why did Viktor sever ties instead of keeping her under his wing?” He gestured with the gun, determined not to let Katjarina get to him.
“Who says he hasn't?” Kat scowled at her husband.
“These are much more questions than just one,” Viktor grouched.
The thieves edged past the doorway, barely crossing into the hall. Lee shot Kat and Vik in the foot simultaneously, while Gal fired at Fitzy, disabling the getaway.
“Do I need to shoot you too?” he asked, still mistrustful of her motives.
She shook her head, admiring his gun-slinging. “Not unless I shoot you first.'' And they were back where they were before the interruptions.
“Do it Galaxia, don't be a fool,” Vik commanded, writhing in pain.
Just for the hell of it, relying on the reflection from the dresser mirror, she pinged a bullet over her shoulder, right into the left arm of her ex-fiancé instead.
“Cool,” Lee nodded, captivated by her callous skill.
Vik yelped, and Kat smacked him, making him wince thrice.
“Don't think I'm happy about your little reunion,” she hissed.
“I can say the same,” he grumbled.
“I guess this means we’re not hopping that flight to Paris?” Fitz wailed.
Chapter Twenty
“T he traveling art show is over, Kreskinovas.” Audra arrived with arresting agents, who didn’t waste time cuffing all three. “Who’s this guy?”
“Fitzy Baker, if that's his real name.” Lee flashed his handgun in the form of a question.
“Coopersmith, Fitzgerald Coopersmith,” he whimpered, nursing his ankle. “Can I get a Band-Aid?” he whined as they limped away.
“Smitty!” Gal guessed.
“Galaxy, my sweet gal!” Audra drawled then tsked, clinking handcuffs on her friend. “I never thought I'd have to turn you in. Then again, I never thought I'd be weeding your apartment for evidence either.” She took a matchbook out of her pocket and handed it to Lee.
“That’s it?” Baffled, he flipped through a tiny blank notebook.
“Invisible ink,” Audra explained, tossing an ultraviolet pen his way. “Details of their intimidation tactics, forcing the president to flood Crimea with troops.”
Lee clicked on the light, hovering over the pages as the plan materialized, shaking his head. “Biological warfare? Pretty harsh way to save your country.”
“Just a hypothetical backup,” Galaxy defended, dazed at the ambush. ”We knew we’d never have to use it.”
Audra flashed the KGB badge, handing it back to her. “Deactivated six years ago.”
Gal tucked it into her bra, still looking from Lee to Audra in surprise, betwixt bewildered sputterings of, “You searched my place?” and, “I thought you quit.”
“No,” Audra chuckled. “When Kate had her hissy fit, it looked like a good time to ghost behind the scenes. I dug into research, where we met. We knew something was up when a painting disappeared from the Smithsonian during that time. We didn't realize Kate was Katjarina until recently. Good work on the hair sample.”
“We?” she asked, drained. Sides were changing faster than a ping pong game.
“I didn't just stumble upon that George Washington painting. I knew it had been tampered with, so I was checking its condition, making sure the camera bug was still intact. Like Andle said, it's much too big to waltz out with. The joke's on them, though; it's just an artist's copy, purposely embedded with a typo on one of George’s books. The secret passage was a surprise, though.”
“Secret passage?” Audra noticed their matching blushes.
“Never mind,” Lee chuckled.
Audra led Galaxy away, following the bunch toward the elevator, eventually leading to unmarked cars.
“Go easy on her, huh?” Lee called down the hall. He looked around the room, feeling a bit vitriolic. Lying back on the bed, he sighed, restless. Another wasted segment of life bound and gagged by emotion. He knew better than to fall for her but it was as autonomic as breathing, which at the moment was hard to do with a heavy chest and tight throat.
Galaxy wasn't wrong about the evening being perfect, and no matter how it ended, it had been worth it. No, scratch that. If he was being honest— and let's face it, selfish—he preferred a different outcome; one that involved an entire night of pillow talk and making googly eyes at breakfast. Well, no use staying over now. It was too painful. He gathered his things, tucking the bulky newspaper under his arm as he shuffled down the humid stairwell. Nothing would ever be the same again.
The lobby was tranquil late at night, the quiet click of the keyboard a contrast to the precarious conflict moments ago. Rotating through the revolving door, a sudden curiosity spun like a lariat.
Whistling the tune Insatiable, he ducked around the corner to the ground level parking garage. Yes, the waiting van was still there, puffs of exhaust smogging up the concrete enclosure. Unbelievable, no one thought to intercept the vehicle holding the rest of the paintings? It was the perfect escape.
He approached with caution, sliding in shotgun and poising his pistol at the driver. “The jig is up!”
“That's always been your problem, Cowboy,” Gal quipped,
flooring the gas as soon as he slammed the door.
“You noticed that too?” Audra chirped from the back.
“What? You two were in cahoots?” Lee's heart soared.
“We thought it up lingerie shopping,” Gal winked.
“We always wondered what would happen if agents got away with the goods for once. We were just pipe dreaming, though,” Audra tittered.
“Without the pipe,” Gal teased.
“And then you saw the opportunity,” he speculated, incorporating his own involvement. When he tossed the bundle into Audra's lap, a vial fell from his pocket, bouncing onto the console.
“What's that?” Gal asked.
“Nothing.” Lee tried jamming it back in, but Audra snatched it.
“Pheromones, that’s what,” she accused. “Did you get this from Lainey?”
“No, don't worry, it's a fake label. It's spy dust.” Gal felt a bit superior, having been there for the unveiling.
“Naw, it's Bombykol,” he admitted, exhausted from all the charades.
“What? So, it is a real substance then? I feel like it's been this phantom thing between us.” It was more than she could digest, so she pulled the van into an empty Starbucks lot.
“You betcha it's real. But Andle's right. It doesn't work on humans, and I didn't use it on you. Just the paintings.”
“So you were claiming them for yourself?” Gal asked in shock.
“Not exactly. I dabbed a few with glow powder to mark it, as well as the infamous moth bait. Lainey works at the Museum of Natural History in the insect department. She had better success with her ant farm than I did.”
Galaxy couldn't believe the turn of events. Just when you think you know the man you love. “So you wanted to lure moths and ruin valuable paintings?” She put the van in drive, speeding off.
“No, quite the contrary. I was protecting them. The female pheromones attract the males, and in turn, the substance sticks to them. The whole thing becomes a masquerade ball, causing confusion as the males hit on each other, making fools of themselves. It's all very Shakespearean.”
“Or Freudian,” Audra slipped in.
“My plan was to protect the paintings but also let Tom know which ones to guard. He knew any marked art was about to be lifted.”
“You were working with Tom all along? But he led them right to it. Fitzy said he showed him around, Kat too.” Gal got on I-95, heading toward Baltimore, more confused than ever.
“Yep, we paved a fool's paradise. Or in our case, a three idiots' Utopia. Lainey told me which paintings were the most valuable. By the way, she's Smitty.”
“Ohhh, clever.”
“So when I paid my first visit planting my original bug, the one I said I heard Urdu? I was pre-tagging the valuables.”
“Yeah, I wondered what became of your Pakistani theory. It seemed to evaporate overnight.”
“So are we still turning these in, or keeping them for ourselves now?” Audra asked, taking the additional canvases out of the newspaper.
“Chuck 'em.”
Galaxy nearly hit a Jersey barrier. “Are you nuts? They must be priceless!”
“Yeah, if we sell them we can retire in style,” Audra protested.
“You're right, Gal, about the less part. Tom deterred Kat, tricking her into taking reproductions created by local art students.”
That brought a round of hysterics. The pretentious pair weren't any smarter than common criminals.
“So, we're still the good guys!” Audra smiled at the irony.
“I'm afraid so.”
Galaxy grinned, pleased. For the first time in days, relief relaxed her. Finally free from the shackles of her past, she didn't want to be bound again.
“We can give the portraits back to the artists. Of course, there's one you might like to keep,” he hinted, holding his hand out to Audra, who passed him the stack. Just then, the roving beam of a highway lamp fell on a headline. She snatched The Post back as Lee grabbed the inner contents.
“Whoa, guys! Get a load of this: 'Kennedy Heir Revealed! DNA testing proved Fitzgerald Coopersmith, 54, of Kennedy Kennels and Dog Walking, the grandson of President John F. Kennedy. Coopersmith is the son of JFK's love child from his teens, Jareth F. Kennedy and Johanna Franco Coopersmith, an intern at the White House during the Kennedy administration.' “
“Well, I'll be. It looks like his claim was partly right. Gal, so you did get his DNA sample after all?” Lee asked.
“No, we never had time, except the day he blew us off. Audra, did you?”
“No, I wasn't on the beat.” She scanned the words. “Ah, looks like Mamie got it done. ‘Joanna took charge when the current administration refused acknowledgment and had her son re-tested for confirmation.' Hmm, interesting, Kennedy's people pinned paternity on JFK, assuming Johanna had relations with John, so they bribed her with a hush fund. Apparently, the First Lady was suspicious of all interns, so they hurried Johanna out, not listening nor bothering to check. And long before that happened, she wasn't taken seriously on the job, even though she had a library degree with a minor in art history. So there's your motive.”
“Sour grapes? I'd say balsamic vinegar,” Lee interjected. When the women looked at him funny, he came clean. “I went undercover as a chef once.”
“I knew it!” Gal whispered, giving the steering wheel a victorious slap.
“But why, after all this time, would Johanna come forward? Must be something more valuable than coinciding with an art robbery,” Lee wondered.
“Always the cynic,” Audra sighed, skimming the rest of the story. “Oh no, she has cancer, the poor lamb. Stage four. She wanted to make sure Fitz got his due before she passed. Now that's a mama bear for you.”
“That's so sweet,” Gal gasped. Not so much in surprise, but to keep from crying, the effect of the evening getting the best of her.
“Speaking of mama bears…” Lee touched her elbow. “Is that a fact or a game of Viktor gone mad?”
“Oh!” It was a question she never expected to answer, although, after the night of tilt-o-whirl confessions, she should have seen it coming. “Um, unfortunately, it is. I mean, yes, it's true.”
“Unfortunately? No need to apologize. I'm just stunned it never came up.”
“We are spies, you moron.” Audra slapped his arm in solidarity. “We have to protect our families.”
“Thank you,” Gal called, smiling into the rearview mirror.
Had she known all along? Lee figured as much since girls dished secrets and gathered like geese in bathrooms. And apparently, modeled intimate apparel for each other.
“Oh, she mentioned her family,” he said to Audra. “Even Viktor came up, but this little tidbit slipped her mind.”
“Of course, I don't mean unfortunately, since I love Anya to pieces, but would you want to broadcast breeding with him? It was accidental, caught up in passion, adventure, and what I thought was love. Speaking of little tidbits, to be honest, when you first took me to Lainey's, I thought Travis was yours.”
“What?” Lee laughed at such an outrageous idea. “Nope, Tray's my nephew, nothing more. Hey, they're about the same age. We should arrange a playdate.”
“By Skype?” she chuckled, then sighed. “It breaks my heart to be so far away, and I'm lucky my folks are helping me out. She couldn't be raised by anyone better.” The tears from her lashes stung, magnifying the glare on the road.
“Does Viktor's organization really have hostages?” he asked, remembering her father.
“Not for long,” Audra's southern drawl interrupted. “I made the call before we arrested them. The FBI contacted Interpol, and they're on a rescue mission as we speak.”
Gal let out a whoop, relieved for the second time that day. “Audra, I owe you a caviar farm! But how did you know?”
“I've been hovering like a honey bee and overheard your conversation earlier.” She noticed their shock turn to awkward discomfort. “What? I told you I went into the shadows.”
&
nbsp; “But, you didn't see anything, right?” Lee squirmed, replaying their romantic rendezvous.
“Don't worry; I know when to tune out. And Lee's not the only electronic bug planter. And I do mean plant.”
“The trees!” Gal epiphanied.
“Yes. While lurking around the libe, I got wind of their plot, so I lodged a device into the weave of the basket lined up on your room cart in the maintenance room.”
“Sharp thinking, Aud! We never even noticed. You're so good at stealth mode, are you going to stay in the background or come join us front and center?”
“You can take my place again,” Galaxy offered.
“Gal, no! We are so great together.” His voice cracked, disappointment welling up in his throat. He hadn't meant to be transparent, but he supposed there was no point in hiding his feelings now. There was so much more he wanted to say, but not here.
“Thanks, I think so too, but I decided earlier tonight, I'm going home. I miss my baby girl. When I told Vik I wanted out, I meant for good, the whole works. I should probably be on my own for a while, just Anya and me. I'll go back into nursing. It's safer. I mean that for you, too,” she winked.
“Yeah, the week's been a wild ride,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his arm. They rode in sad silence for several miles until something occurred to him. “Hey, the case is officially closed. I promised you a hammock on a beach if I recall.”
“Hmm, I could go lackadaisical,” Gal agreed. “There's plenty of romantic spots in Ireland. Everyone in?”
“It's tempting, but I'm sure you don't want a tricycle when you're pedaling a tandem.”
A tollbooth loomed ahead. “Anyone have any change? Audra, are you sure? It feels rude to exclude you.”
“Don't worry about me. I'm going to laze on a beach and down enough umbrella drinks to create my own shade,” she assured, digging single bills from her pocket while Lee checked the glovebox for an E-Z Pass.
“That does sound heavenly.”
“Not as much as Paris!” Lee produced three plane tickets and fake passports instead. “Looks like they were hitting the Louvre next. Flight leaves tonight on Aer Lingus, with an Irish layover,” he announced, tantalizing Gal with the tickets.
Behind Frenemy Lines Page 16
