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Authors: T.C. LoTempio

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I cut him off with a moan. “No? I was so certain—”

“Let me finish. No tranqs, but there was a very, very slight trace of aconite. Not enough to be fatal, but enough to incapacitate. You were gone by the time we got to Pitt's office, but we found the card you dropped—the Wilson Galleries card—so we figured we'd better hightail it here.”

Daniel finished putting a tourniquet on my upper arm, and I winced as a bolt of pain shot through me. Gritting my teeth I said, “Thank God you did, but how did you know to go to Pitt's office in the first place?”

Samms and Daniel exchanged puzzled looks. “Don't you remember? You dialed my number,” Samms said. “When I answered I heard you talking with Jenna and Foxworthy. I'm still amazed at how you did that, 'cause it sure sounded like they had a gun on you the whole time.”

“Wha—my cell phone?”

Geez, they were right. Now that I thought about it, I hadn't seen my cell when I'd bent to retrieve the contents of my bag. Which meant . . .

I glanced over at Nick, who sat calmly, licking his paws into an ebony sheen.

“Are you sure you're not part human?” I whispered, and then I couldn't help it. I passed out.

TWENTY-THREE

I
woke up to a Winter Wonderland of white, white, white . . . ceiling, light in my face, tile walls, and the sheen of an oxygen mask covering my face.

“Anyone there?” I tried to speak, and my voice came out a breathy whisper, more strangled than sexy. I lifted the mask off my face, and the door popped open and a stern-faced nurse bustled in.

“You need to keep this on, Ms. Charles,” she said. “You've lost a lot of blood.”

“I can breathe, thanks.”

The door opened again, and Daniel and Samms both walked in. Daniel gave me a tight smile, and Samms led in with a “Hmpf. You look like hell.”

I sat up, leaning against the pillows. “Gee, thanks. How long have I been here?”

“Only less than a day,” Daniel answered. “That wound
ended up being penetrating, not perforating. They removed the bullet, but you did lose a lot of blood. The doctor wants you to stay here at least another day to get built back up.”

“Oh. Well, it could have been worse.” I gave them a small smile. “I guess Foxworthy wasn't the great shot he claimed to be.” My fingers fisted in the thin blanket. “Lacey?”

“Freed,” said Samms. “The DA didn't give us a problem, once we had Foxworthy's confession, or should I say Pichard's.”

“We had a suspicion he might still be alive,” said Daniel. “When you asked me about him, I hoped you weren't after a story, or getting mixed up in that mess. But I couldn't say a word about it to you. Not my call, sorry. The directive came from another division.”

“It's okay.” I waved my hand. “I think the three of them—Foxworthy, Wilson, and Jenna—thought they'd planned the perfect crime. Although if I had to guess, I'd peg Wilson as the weak link in the chain.”

“And you'd be right,” admitted Daniel. “Wilson caved first, actually. Once he did, I guess Foxworthy realized he had no choice but to come clean.”

“What happened?”

“Well, it all started with Pichard. After his divorce he had a run of bad luck, mainly because the local authorities had received a tip on his shady dealings and were watching him very closely. He fled the States for Europe, where he wasted no time getting involved with some pretty unsavory characters, and soon he was in over his head again. It wasn't long before an enterprising reporter exposed his involvement in art smuggling. At that point, he came up with the idea of faking his death, which he did, and did a pretty good job,
by the way. He almost had Interpol fooled. He took on the identity of Armand Foxworthy, and that's how he became involved with the Wilsons, who, by the way, are brother and sister. The W in Jenna's name stands for Whitley, their mother's maiden name. She just shortened it for an alias.”

“The Wilsons were down on their luck, too.” Samms took up the gauntlet. “They were petty jewel thieves who left the US for Europe, doing small scams, but never really hitting the big time. When Jenna met Foxworthy, everything just clicked. They connected with a ‘bling ring' masterminded by a South American group and executed the theft that netted them half a million in rare gems. Foxworthy, who apparently has an itchy trigger finger, killed the guard in the ensuing melee, much to Kurt's chagrin, and that's when they all decided to relocate back to the States. They settled on California, set up shop as the Wilson Galleries. It wasn't long after that they ingratiated themselves with the Pitt Institute, which provided them with the perfect front for selling the gems to the highest bidders and shipping them out.”

“They had a pretty slick operation,” Daniel admitted. “Jenna was the brains behind that. She used her talent to secret the gems inside sculptures and send them out to their contacts. Kurt chatted up Pitt to give the gallery an air of respectability, and Foxworthy, well, as Pichard he did have a degree in Art, so it was a simple matter to fake diplomas and get hired as an instructor, which he did to keep an eye on his sister, whom he suspected of fooling around with Pitt. Pitt's art collection was an added bonus. When they met Kurt and found out about his talent for copying they hit upon the forgery scheme as a supplement. Foxworthy's long-range
plans, once all the gems were disposed of, included duplicating the portraits Pitt had in his collection, substituting the dupes, and selling the originals.”

“A very enterprising fellow, wasn't he?” I observed. “But plans changed when they thought Pitt found out what they were doing.”

“Yes.” Daniel nodded. “Their first mistake was selling Pitt a forgery. The Engeldrumm was hot, passed to them as payment for one of the gem shipments, and they couldn't take the chance of losing the original. Then to compound matters, Taft delivered the wrong sculpture to Pitt. A natural mistake on Taft's part since he wasn't involved with the diamonds. When Pitt unwrapped the painting to give it to his son, he noticed right away it was a forgery, and he called Wilson complaining about the flaw, but he meant the portrait. They automatically assumed he meant the sculpture, since the ones containing gems do have a slight crack in the back of the head. Foxworthy, afraid Pitt would turn them in, decided he had to be silenced. When Jenna told him about Lacey's argument with Pitt, he knew just what to do.

“Jenna put the poison in Pitt's wine. She knew just how much, because she was pretty well versed on the subject. Taft picked up that bit of knowledge listening to her. She knew Pitt kept his office unlocked during the day, so she went in at lunchtime, knowing he wouldn't take any wine until the evening. When she saw the sculpture missing, she naturally thought Pitt might have discovered the diamonds. Actually, he'd taken it to show to Julia. Imagine Foxworthy's surprise when he stepped in that night to kill Pitt and saw the sculpture back on the shelf. He couldn't do anything
about it then, though. Lacey came too quickly. He'd found the plans in the file cabinet downstairs, so he and Jenna both knew all the secret labyrinths. He went in later to dispose of the wine and switch the sculpture.” Daniel chuckled. “He never figured on Nora's eagle eye noticing the difference in the hands.”

“So he was still in the room when Lacey arrived.” I shuddered. “My sister is lucky. He could have killed her.”

“He could indeed,” Samms agreed. “But then she wouldn't have been able to take the fall for the murder, as he planned. And oddly enough, Pitt didn't notice the crack in the sculpture. Julia did. That was what started her thinking. She went on a little quest of her own and discovered the sculptures in the storeroom, along with some bits of broken plaster. She put two and two together, and that was what she was going to tell me in the warehouse that night. Unfortunately, Taft saw her poking around the boxes and told Wilson, who told Foxworthy, who then figured she had to be either police or feds, so he followed her to the warehouse and strangled her.” Samms shook his head. “Just all in a day's work for the bastard. He strangled her, had himself a relaxing smoke, and then took off. You didn't miss him by much.”

“Like Lacey, I had a close call. I'm sure he wouldn't have hesitated to strangle me as well.” I slumped back against the pillows. “What happened to the diamonds in the pouch Julia found?”

“Jenna left the pouch on her worktable, and Julia accidentally knocked it over. When she saw the diamonds inside she figured she'd hide them in a safe place until she could report to us—and to her, the safest place was Pitt's office. As a
federal agent, she was able to come and go as she pleased into the room.”

“And I'll bet I can guess just where she hid them. In some molding along the side of the wall.”

“Ah, you found the secret panel in your own room,” Samms laughed. “See, I knew you were a junior Nancy Drew.”

“Taft's agreed to the deal Julia wanted to cut for him,” said Daniel. “His testimony will go a long way toward making sure these three rot in prison where they belong. We're hopeful this experience has taught him a valuable lesson.”

“So Giselle, Althea, and Philip had nothing to do with any of this,” I said. “I didn't think they did, although that parking ticket had me going for a while.”

“Yeah, me, too,” said Samms. “Althea Pitt admitted to me that she'd gone to the school that night. She wanted to talk to her husband about why he pulled the plug on giving Philip that portrait, but when she saw Giselle's car she just kept on driving.”

“Ah, that's why she thought Giselle might have had a hand in Pitt's murder. She didn't know that it was Taft using Giselle's car to cheat on her.” I smiled thinly. “Looks like Giselle's only crime was being a gold digger, just like Althea and Philip suspected.”

“Yep, so everything's resolved.” Daniel covered my hand with his. “Lacey's outside, along with your aunt. Feel up to a visit?”

I smiled weakly. “Sure.”

“Great. We'll give you some privacy.”

Samms leaned over the bed. His fingers twisted in the thin sheet as he said gruffly, “Well, I guess, I mean, I suppose you were a big help here, at the end.”

I perked up and put a hand to my ear. “What? Was that an actual compliment I heard come out of your mouth?”

“Let's not get carried away. You did some stupid things, too, like going back to the scene of the crime without notifying us of your theory, but your reasoning did go a long way toward the end result.”

“Not lavish praise, but I'll take what I can get.”

His lips twigged upward. “Compliments from me have to be earned, remember?”

Oh, I did indeed. But before I could think of an answer, Daniel stuck his head in the doorway and called impatiently, “Come on, Lee. There are a few others who want to say hello to Nora.”

Samms gave my hand a quick squeeze. “Take care, Red.”

I eyed him. “I HATE that nickname and you know it.”

“I don't know why but it suits you to a tee.” He let his lips curve upward. “Who knows, maybe our paths will cross again someday.” Before I could fathom how to respond to
that
statement, he was gone, and I found myself besieged by Lacey and Aunt Prudence enveloping me as best they could with hugs and kisses.

“Thank you, thank you, for getting me out of this mess. I'll never fight with you again,” Lacey whispered. “Or at least, not for the next six months. Pinky swear.”

I grinned at her. “Are you coming back to Cruz? Want to stay with me?”

“Actually, I thought I might finish up at the Institute. I've only got a bit more to go and then—” Did my sister actually giggle? “Peter said he had a friend in the design department of a small company here who might need a good artist. So, I think I might stay with Aunt Prudence for a while, at least.”

“Uh-huh.” I took in her flushed face and sparkling eyes. “I don't suppose Peter Dobbs figures into this equation at all?”

“We're just good friends,” she smiled wickedly. “Like you and that Daniel.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “What a hunk! And so is the cop who arrested me. Boy, do the two of them think pretty highly of you. I don't know how you're gonna decide between them. They're so
hot
!”

I blanched. “What do you mean, decide between them? There's nothing to decide, no sirree.”

“My turn. Don't hog your sister.”

Lacey moved back so Aunt Prudence could brush a light kiss across my forehead. “You just can't help yourself, can you?” She wagged her finger under my nose. “Somehow I think you'll always find time for a good mystery, even with all your duties at Hot Bread. Oh, and speaking of that! We've got another surprise for you. Are you up for it?”

Before I could answer, the door burst open and Chantal rushed in to smother me with a bearlike hug. “
Chérie!
Mon Dieu!
I did a reading, and the Tower kept coming up. I was so worried. I called Rick, and he called Daniel. As a matter of fact, Rick drove me up as soon as we heard what happened.” She patted my shoulder. “Don't worry, Lance is watching Hot Bread. And we are going back first thing tomorrow.” She gave my hand a tight squeeze. “I just had to make sure you were still in one piece. Nicky, too, of course.”

“I should be out of here by tomorrow. But I thought I'd stay an extra day or two, if you don't mind. Have a real visit with Lacey and Aunt Prudence.” I grinned. “I need to get Irene a thank-you gift, too. If she hadn't told me about the secret corridor, I might still be banging my head against a
brick wall, the crooks would have gotten off scot-free, and Lacey'd be on trial for murder.”

“So all's well that ends well. And I see you have found both Kings—Wands and Swords.” Her eyes flashed. “Daniel introduced me to Detective Samms.”

I felt my cheeks start to flame as Lacey poked Chantal's shoulder. “Aren't they hot! And to think they're both after my sister!”

“They most certainly are not,” I sputtered. “Daniel and I are just getting to know each other. As for Samms . . .” I waved my hand dismissively. “Well, we don't get on very well.”

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