23
Liv stoodin the darkened Theater, staring down at an illuminated three-dimensional model of Nicola St. Martin’s Asheville mansion, displayed on the now elevated coffee table. The model was so lifelike that she could almost imagine hearing the clank of crystal and hum of refined chatter.
“This is extraordinary,” she said to the room at large.
Across from her, Zeke rested his big hands on the edge of the three-by-five table. His dark eyes shuffled over the diorama as if mentally cataloging every detail.
“You’ve outdone yourself, little brother,” he said.
Although his T-shirt was as wrinkle-free as ever, Phin’s rumpled hair, bloodshot eyes, and frequent yawns suggested he’d pulled an all-nighter.
At his brother’s praise, the younger Blackwell stood taller and a new energy entered his voice. “Only because Rohan scraped up the mansion’s original design and, thanks to the St. Martins’ love for entertaining, he was able to pull a bazillion internal photos off the web. The combination filled in the gaps.”
“Plus, Architectural Digest did a feature article on her home recently,” Rohan said.
In an aside to Liv, Phin pointed toward a red line snaking its way through the various levels of the building. “This is Cruz’s handiwork. The line shows the path of least resistance.”
“Meaning,” Cruz said, “that’s our way in, and our best chance of not drawing attention.”
“Let’s back up and start from the top.” Zeke lifted his thumb to start a countdown. “The target is Nicola St. Martin, a wealthy collector who likes to show off her latest acquisitions.” He held up his forefinger. “We need to send in a recon team to get eyes on the asset and further assess the security situation.” Middle finger. “Our recovery team retrieves the asset.” He lowered his hand. “Now, what else you got?”
“The private museum doesn’t exist on the original floor plan. I’ve isolated areas of the estate where an extensive art collection could reside.” Rohan tapped a screen on his tablet and a blue light outlined a separate building on the estate. “Here.” Another tap and the blue light shifted to the south wing of the mansion. “And here.” A subfloor beneath the main part of the house lit up.
“That’s a lot of options, Ro,” Cruz said.
Rohan pushed his glasses higher on his nose. “Agreed, but I can’t rule them out either.”
“We have to figure out if she likes to parade people through her museum,” Zeke placed a blunt finger on the separate building, “keeps it close for family and friends,” his finger moved to the south wing, “or hides it in the dark like trophies of war.” Everyone’s attention shifted to the basement.
“Hoarder or exhibitionist?” Phin added.
“Considering she’s only bringing out a few pieces for the donor’s viewing,” Cruz said, “I’d say she likes to keep her collection closer to the breast.”
“Agreed. The standalone would be too easy to breach,” Zeke said. “Let’s set that one aside for now and concentrate on the other two. What else?”
“As far as I can determine,” Rohan said, “only three people have access cards—the St. Martins and their curator.”
“After a full body scan, each guest must present an object to the museum curator upon arriving,” Phin said.
“What kind of object?” Grams asked, breaking her silence.
“Unknown.”
“An identical object?” Zeke asked. “Or are they unique to each guest?”
“Given the level of security,” Phin said, “we’re assuming unique, but—”
“We don’t have time for assumptions,” Zeke interrupted. “This event is tomorrow night.”
“I’m aware,” Phin said through clenched teeth. “The guest list is as protected as the object’s identity. Until we have the one, we can’t get the other.”
“Nothing in cyberspace?” Zeke asked. “No one boasting about attending on social media?”
Rohan shook his head. “Not a peep, other than the one post talking about body scans and the mysterious object. When I went back a few hours later to read it again, in case I missed something, the post was gone.”
Liv searched her memory. Hadn’t Callie mentioned something about their parents preparing to attend yet another shindig, during their drive to the mechanic’s shop this morning?
Could it be the St. Martins’ benefit? Would she be able to coax the invitation details from her parents? If so, Mitch had been right about the benefit of her familial connection.