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“Your Taos gallery?” Andi asked.
Tad’s face, now splotched with patches of deep red, was stricken with panic.
“They’ve already sent a team out to your Albuquerque gallery,” Brunswick said, striding back over.
Christian looked to Andi. “What were you trying to say to Tad earlier?”
She swallowed, praying the words didn’t get caught in her throat. “While this gallery is focused on art pieces, Mr. Gaiman’s Albuquerque gallery contains ancient artifacts of cultural significance.”
“And?” Tad frowned.
“Cultural artifacts are the FBI’s jurisdiction.” There, she’d said it. Mentionedthem. “You’ll need to call the Bureau’s art theft team.” She took a steadying inhale that did anything but steady her.
“You okay?” Christian asked.
“Fine,” she said, trying to convince herself of that.
“You just look a little faint,” he said.
“Oh. I skipped breakfast,” she blurted out. It was true. Not the reason for the discomfort sifting through her, but true all the same.
“Then we better grab something on the way out of town,” Christian said.
“Wait.We? What?”
“We both need to go to the Albuquerque gallery. No sense driving separately.”
“I ... uh ... I’m fine driving,” she said.
“Okay, I can ride with you then.”
“I...” She could insist she drive alone, but while she prayed the man wasn’t involved in the case for only heaven knew why, he was still a high-priority suspect, and the ninety-minute ride would give her plenty of time to question him. “Okay,” she said. “But I’m good with you driving.” Her head was still swirling at the thought of the Feds. She just prayed Adam wouldn’t be there. Anyone but Adam ... and Jeremy, of course, but if he’d stuck to his plans, he and his new bride were off on their honeymoon.
Heat rushed her limbs. He’d kept the same wedding day, same honeymoon location—just got a different bride. Could she be a worse judge of men?
The list of the stolen items from Tad’s Jeopardy Falls gallery complete, Andi and Christian headed for the door and Gaiman’s Albuquerque gallery.
“I’ll continue working the scene here,” Brunswick said, “and then I’ll swing by Alex’s.” He lifted his chin at them as Christian held the heavy gallery door open for Andi. “Keep me in the loop.”
“Will do,” she said.
Christian nodded. “Always.”
Tad scampered after them and climbed into his silver Porsche. “I’ll meet you two down there.”
“You think he’s okay to drive?” she asked Christian as he held the passenger door of his Bronco open for her.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
She started to climb into the Bronco, then paused.
“What’s wrong?” Christian asked.
“I need to get my work satchel. It’s in my truck.” She lowered her foot. “I’ll just be a sec.”
“No problem.” He smiled. “Take your time.”
He was so calm, level, as if this were an everyday occurrence. It threw her. The thrill of working a case pulsed through her. But Christian O’Brady was as solid as a rock.
