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I head right back to my computer and start searching for more information on Darrell; not that we don’t know most things about him anyway.
He’s one of the most famous infamous con artists in the world. His skills are out of this world and I know for a fact that most of his jobs people don’t even know about. There are galleries all over the world that have replicas hanging on their walls while thinking that they’re originals thanks to him. That’s how good he is: it’s his specialty.
After printing off about a hundred pages of information not only on him but the gallery too, I know exactly what he’s going to do. He’ll be taking the original painting that is being transferred to the gallery from New York.
The only question now is… when will he hit it?
Once I’ve gathered the papers and also saved all of the information on several different USBs, I head out of the warehouse, turning the lights off and locking up as I do.
I read some of the information in the folder on the short walk to my cabin, trying to work out where he’s been for the last four years.
He’s been under the radar ever since we nearly caught him. It’s the closest that anyone has ever got to him, but not close enough for my liking. We should have caught him, and this time we will, we have more people and even better equipment now; but then so will he.
I can’t help but wonder why he was at the gallery today. Why would he show his face? That’s not his usual style; he’s more of a stay in the background kind of guy.
“Hey.” I jump a few feet in the air as I open my cabin door, not expecting anyone to be in here.
“Geena,” I gasp, turning my shocked face into a forced smile. “I didn’t realize you’d be here.”
“Can’t a girlfriend surprise her boyfriend?” she asks, standing up and holding a white bag in the air. “I got takeout.”
My stomach growls hungrily as the smell of the food wraps around me. I close the door behind me, dropping the folder down next to my computer and moving toward her.
“I’m starving,” I say, wrapping my arms around her waist and bringing her closer. “And I love that you surprised me.”
I try to keep my voice neutral, not giving anything away. What I really want to say is that she shouldn’t have been in here on her own. Even though I keep most of my stuff down in the safe room that she doesn’t know about, there’s still things hanging around that she could see.
I know I should trust her, but the fact of the matter is… I don’t. I don’t tell her about the jobs I’m working on, or the equipment that I’m making. I made the mistake at the start of our relationship, trying to tell her what I was making and I was met with, “I don’t give a crap what you make.” Since then, I told myself that I’d keep my work life and her separate.
I know what you’re thinking, that I shouldn’t have to do that. But for a quiet life, I will. At least, that’s how I used to think, but lately she’s been snapping at me more and turning up out of the blue, something that I don’t like. I have my routine down to a T, and when she turns up, it ruins it all because I have no choice but to drop what I was doing and give her all of my attention.
“Good,” she giggles, pushing her auburn hair out of her face as she looks up at me with a smile. “I wouldn’t have been happy if you weren’t happy.” She giggles again only this time, it’s high-pitched and almost has a frantic quality about it, which makes me wince as she spins around and sits back down on the sofa, pulling the takeout boxes out the bag.
“How was work?” she asks.
“It was good—”
“My day was hectic!” she cuts me off, blowing out a breath, opening the boxes one by one and then picking one up and putting a forkful of food in her mouth. “Charlie must have been on a roll because he arrested three people, all of which I had to book in. Then that homeless guy that always hangs around on the corner was looking for shelter again.” She shakes her head, a disgusted look on her face. “I kicked him out as soon as he came inside.”
I zone out as she continues to talk, my mind on everything else but what’s in the room. I should probably try and talk but I know that every time I do, she’ll only cut me off anyway. It’s best to let her say what she wants to say.
I sit down, picking up a box and holding it on my thigh as I lean back, closing my eyes.
“Would you like me to stay over?”
My head snaps to her as my eyes fling wide open. She’s finished her food and I’m now holding a box of cold food, my appetite gone.
“What?”
“I mean if you don’t want me to, then I can go home.” Her voice is razor sharp and my brain finally catches up with what she’s saying.
“I… Yeah, you can stay. I’ve gotta be in the warehouse at six though and I’m ready to crash now. It’s been a long day.”
She shrugs her shoulders, a coy smile on her face.
“I wouldn’t mind going to bed early.”
My cheeks heat as she watches me and trails her hand down my thigh. “No.” I clear my throat, cursing at myself for sounding so harsh. “I’ve been on a job since six this morning. I need a good night’s sleep.” I try to placate her.
