39
For the last time,Zeke bent over Nicola St. Martin’s hand. “Thank you for sharing your museum with us. It’s an evening I will always cherish.” Not for the reasons she would assume, but he would not correct her assumption.
Her hand slid slowly from his. “It’s a rare treat to tour the collection with such like-minded enthusiasts. Most people endure my yammerings about antiquities because they want something from me or wish to get into my good graces.” She took in the four of them. “Thank you for allowing me to be me for a while.”
Guilt snaked across his mind, but he didn’t allow it to burrow deep. He appreciated Nicola St. Martin’s charitable endeavors, but he’d spotted at least six pieces of questionable origins below, not including Lupos. The socialite had the funds to get what she wanted, when she wanted it. Something told him if she had to break a few laws along the way, the act wouldn’t cause a single sleepless night.
In the distance, a crowd had formed around the display table where tonight’s main event would take place. Excited chatter pulsed and grew in volume.
“Now,” Nicola said, “if you’ll excuse me. I believe it’s time for me to say a few words before the unveiling.”
“Mrs. St. Martin, where have you been?” asked a harried man in a business suit and scuffed dress shoes.
“Showing the museum to my guests. What is the matter, Dr. Bentley?”
“I’ve been trying to call you for the past fifteen minutes.”
“You know cell reception is nonexistent down there.”
The curator’s ears turned bright red at the admonishment. “My apologies. It’s just that . . .” His voice trailed off as if he feared his employer’s reaction.
“Spit it out, Dr. Bentley. My guests are waiting.”
“The Kämmer and Reinhardt doll.”
“What about it?”
“It’s missing.”
Zeke caught Phin’s eye, and his brother peeled away from the group to see what intel he could uncover.
The doll was gone.
If it was gone-gone, their entire mission had just gone nuclear.
All of his elation at discovering Lupos dried up like the Sahara. If they couldn’t recover the doll, the CI wouldn’t cooperate and a half billion dollars’ worth of fentanyl, heroin, and methamphetamines would explode into the streets of Steele Ridge and other small towns like it across Western North Carolina.
Zeke’s stomach soured.
Had his obsession with a family heirloom just cratered his brother’s career? Had his distraction opened the gates to an insidious poison that would rip apart lives, one by one?
“If you’ll excuse me,” Nicola said, already storming away. Her curator in tow.
“Well, this ought to be interesting,” Kayla said with amusement before gliding off.
“Who would be bold enough to steal one of the exhibit pieces in the middle of the party?” Liv asked.
“Why the doll?” Zeke didn’t like coincidences. His elbow pressed against the sword strapped to his side. What he wouldn’t give for a Glock at the moment.
“You think someone here knew we wanted it?”
“I don’t know. But something feels off.”
“Zeke, is that you?”
He turned toward the familiar voice, wishing he hadn’t eschewed the costume’s Cordovan hat to help shield his identity, and found one of his long-estranged cousins. Slick, high-powered sports agent and current city manager of Steele Ridge, Griffin Steele, eyed him with a mixture of surprise and suspicion.
Great. Just what he needed.