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Nick worked quickly and efficiently, opening the door in less than three minutes.
"Nice," she said."If the agent career doesn't work out, you can go to the dark side."
"I've seen too much of the dark side already.I'm not switching over."He opened the door for her."Let's not turn on any lights.We'll use the flashlights from our phones."
She took out the prepaid phone he'd given her and turned on the light as Nick did the same.Then they started down the hall.
"You take one side, I'll take the other," she said."There are so many paintings here.We should make one quick pass down the hall and see if anything jumps out at us."
"All right, but I'm not sure what I'm looking for."
"Anything that looks really well executed."
"I'll give it a shot.A priceless painting has to be better than some of this junk, right?"
She wasn't sure what he considered junk.Art was definitely subjective.
As she passed a classroom door, she saw the number six on the door, and that made her wonder if the number on the frame was related to the number on the door.The frame in her hand read one-five.She moved further down the hall to the next classroom with the number five on the door, while Nick moved in the opposite direction.She put her light on the paintings next to the door, and then she saw one that looked incredibly familiar.
It was the same painting she'd seen in Lucinda's sketchbook.Her heart raced.As she pulled the painting off the wall, she heard footsteps and then a grunt.She whirled around to see Nick lying unconscious on the floor with a man dressed completely in black standing over him.The gun in his hand was pointed straight at her.
He said something in Italian, but she couldn't understand him.She hugged the painting close to her chest, almost like a shield.The canvas wouldn't protect her from a bullet, but she didn't know what else to do.
How had he found them?And was there more than one person in the building?It seemed quiet.She couldn't hear anyone else.
He uttered a sharp, louder order in Italian, motioning his gun toward the painting.
She swallowed hard.He would probably kill them both as soon as she gave him the painting.She had to stall.Nick wasn't dead.He'd just been knocked out.If she could slow things down, maybe he'd wake up and they could get away.
"There are four other paintings," she said."I know where they are.You can't kill me, or you'll never get them."She didn't know if he spoke English, but a second later it didn't matter, because a rocketing blast came from behind her.
She instinctively ducked down to the ground, waiting for the pain to rip through her or to see blood coming from Nick's head.But it was the man with the gun who fell to the ground.
She turned around in shock to see Stefano striding down the corridor, weapon in hand."Oh, my God," she gasped.
"Are you all right, Isabella?"Stefano asked as he put his gun away.
"I—I think so," she stuttered."How did you know we were here?"
"I spoke to your mother earlier.She was worried about you.She thought you might be headed here.It looks like she was right to be concerned.What are you doing here?"
"We found another one of Tomas's paintings, and we realized that if the stolen paintings were put together, they provided a picture of the view from the courtyard of this school."
"Why would that be important?"
"Because Tomas and Lucinda were in a group of people who were trying to protect art from thieves by stealing it themselves and putting up fakes to be stolen."She stumbled over her words, her gut telling her that things weren't adding up.Why was Stefano here alone?Where were the other police officers?Why had he just shot the other guy and not even tried to take him into custody?
More importantly, her mother hadn't known they were going to the school.She'd thought they were going to find Jasmine.
"Is that one of the paintings?"Stefano asked.
"I think so."
"Where are the others?"
"I'm not sure.I believe they're scattered along these walls.There's a number on the back of the frames of the pictures that were stolen that say what floor and what room number, but I don't have the other paintings; I only have this one."
"What was the number?"
