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“Priscilla and her brother are good,” Alessandro says.
“And cheap.”
I can’t help but feel affronted. I’ve never been called “cheap” before. Just because I don’t have clothes like Mr. Fancy Pants here?
But Alessandro shifts in guilt or discomfort, like he’s embarrassed by me. “I knew they would get the job done.”
“I’m ‘cheap?’” I ask. The longer I stall, the more time I have to think about how I’m going to get myself out of this situation.
“What’s your full name?” Rafe asks.
“Priscilla Saarnio.”
“Never heard of you before. What’s the most expensive thing you’ve ever stolen?”
“The Morelli.”
Rafe looks over at Alessandro. “You went for cheap so you could keep more of the advance.”
“I’m a businessman,” Alessandro defends. “Wouldn’t you have done the same?”
Rafe turns to the man with the ponytail. “Chung, would you have done the same?”
“No, sir,” the man responds.
“Why not?”
“I’d hire the best because if I fucked up, I’d be six feet under, sir.”
Alessandro pales.
Curious, I ask, “How much was the advance?”
Rafe looks to Alessandro, an indication for him to answer.
“A hundred grand,” Alessandro mumbles.
“And you paid ussixteen?” I blurt. “Peter and I did the heavy lifting and risk-taking!”
“I had the connect to Jack. Besides, I was gonna share the proceeds with you once we delivered the painting to Mr. Lee. But we ain’t getting nothing till you and Peter produce the goddamn painting!”
“Which Peter already delivered to you,” I insist.
“Then how come I don’t have it?”
“I don’t know!”
“How do you know Peter didn’t make off with it to Costa Rica?”
“He wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Yeah?”
“I know my brother. We’ve been at this together since we were kids. He’d tell me if he was going to go off script.”
“You sure about that?”
Rafe, quietly witnessing our exchange, cuts in. “You and your brother are close?”
