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He nodded. “Yes, but Tad insisted on ignoring several of my suggestions, so I refused to fully guarantee my work for this gallery.”
“Interesting.”
Christian shrugged. “I think he just got cheap on this one.”
“Bet he’s regretting that now,” she said, noting Tad’s ignoring the security consultant’s suggestions. Having a solid security system was a requirement for insurance with Ambrose Global.
“The primary exhibition area is through the main tunnel.” Christian indicated for her to go first, and she led the way, her curiositypiqued with each cave-like structure they passed, wanting to know what each nook and cranny held.
Jungle vines arched across the stone façade. She touched it, amazed by how real it looked. “Oh, my word,” she said. “It isrealstone.”
“I know. Tad spared no expense on the display.”
“But cheaped out on the security system,” she said. “Nice.” She rolled her eyes. Why did she have the feeling Tad would still try to blame this on Christian’s poor work? “Does this one have a key fob system too?” she asked as a chill of cold air washed over them. A shiver raced along her limbs.
Christian slipped off the windbreaker Deckard had brought him and held it out to her. “Take this.”
“Oh, thanks, but I’m okay.”
“You’re shivering, and your lips are turning blue.”
She touched her mouth. That had to look really attractive.
“Please,” he said, extending his arm with the jacket clutched in his hand.
“Okay.” She took hold of it. “Thanks.” She slipped it on—the material had wicked the rain away, and the lined interior was warm, cozy, and smelled like Christian—pine and the wild outdoors, if the fresh outdoors could be encapsulated into a scent.
“Oh,” he said. “To answer your earlier question about whether or not Tad used the key fob system here, no he did not. I strongly recommended it, but he wanted all three galleries to have different security systems, so if a thief were ever to crack one system and commit a heist, he wouldn’t automatically know how to get into the other two undetected.”
“That clearly didn’t work,” she said, then exhaled. “So how is this one set up?”
“With motion sensors and a silent alarm. I did the best I could with what he’d allow me to do. Figured it was better than what he had, which was like kiddie play.”
The tunnel ended, and they entered an Incan-style ruin—the facade of the exterior and interior meshing seamlessly to displaythe Incan, Mayan, and Aztec artifacts he sold. How he had legal provenance she couldn’t imagine, but he must have all his ducks in a row, because governments—both domestic and international—were cracking down on the sale of cultural objects.
“I’m curious,” she said as they moved toward the sound of Tad’s voice drifting down the corridor. “Mesoamerican jewelry at the Jeopardy Falls gallery, Incan and Mesoamerican artifacts here... Does he sell the same at his Taos gallery?” she asked. “I haven’t had opportunity to look at that one yet.”
“Nope,” he said as they neared Tad’s voice. “Wine.”
“I’m sorry. Did you say...”
“Yep. Wine. Very old, refined, and wildly expensive.”
The man’s tastes ran eclectic across the board, it seemed. “Okay,” she said. “I would have never called that one.”
Tad stopped talking but then picked up again, and it took her a moment to pin down the direction his nasally voice was coming from through the winding passageways. “This way,” she said, heading for the far side of the re-created pyramid—the jungle overtaking it as if it were the ruins in Peru she’d visited during college. Reaching the far edge of the pyramid, they rounded the corner, and her heart leapt into her throat.
Adam.
FOURTEEN
ASMUG GRINspread on Adam’s face.
She straightened her shoulders, fighting the urge to flee.
“Well, if it isn’t Agent Forester,” Adam said, nudging the agent beside him.
Tad stood in the distance, deep in conversation with a young woman—probably Alex’s equivalent for the Albuquerque gallery. At least she was safe. Her heart cracked for what might have happened to Alex—a young woman she didn’t even know.
