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“And the heists look like art in themselves,” Christian said. “You should have seen how flawlessly things went until the camera feeds were cut.”
Andi cleared her throat. “Christian has an appreciation for their work I don’t share.”
“I don’t appreciate their robbing the place, but their execution was stellar. These are no average robbers.”
“Yes, but sooner or later, they’ll trip up,” Andi said.
“I hope you’re right,” Christian said, finishing off his espresso.
“One thing I’m curious about,” Riley said.
“What’s that?” Christian asked.
“Why those collections? Is there a high demand for those objects?” Riley asked.
“I can make a call. Check to see if they are in demand on the black market,” Greyson said.
“Or...” Andi said. “They already have a buyer lined up.”
“Another strong possibility,” Christian said.
“I’ll reach out to my black-market contacts. See if we can discover who that buyer might be,” Greyson said.
Andi’s eyes widened. “You have contacts on the black market?”
“He’s got contacts everywhere,” Riley said with a swish of her hand.
“It’s always good to have something up your proverbial sleeve,” Greyson said. “To be one step ahead.”
“Go on the offense, not the defense,” Christian said.
Greyson smiled. “Always strike first.”
“You should see this guy in a fight,” Riley said, poking her pen in his direction.
“Fight?” Andi said. “But you’re so dignified. I mean, not to assume...” She blushed.
“It’s all right.” Greyson smiled. “I only engage when it’s necessary.”
“It’s not really an engagement,” Christian said.
Andi crinkled her nose. “What do you mean?”
“He strikes first,” Riley said. “One swift shot to the jugular and it’s over.”
“Strike first,” Andi said.
Greyson nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
FIFTY-SEVEN
THE FIRST AVAILABLE FLIGHTto Boston didn’t leave until five o’clock the next morning, so they headed back to Harper’s for the night, though Deckard doubted they’d get much rest. His head was spinning, trying to compartmentalize all the information they’d been flooded with.
The final interview with Kevin Gaines had been the quickest. The man, compared to the others, took a different tactic. He went on the offensive, barraging Harper for blaming others for her friend’s mistake. When asked a direct question, he either deflected or gave a one-word answer with a grunt. The conversation, or lack thereof, convinced Deckard he knew more than he was saying, and Harper concurred.
Harper opened her door, and they beelined for the couch. Both flopping down. It’d been a long, frustrating day. Harper kicked her shoes off. “Feel free to kick your boots off. Make yourself comfortable.”
“Thanks.” He did just that.
