“Told her what?” He felt that same clutch in his stomach he’d felt when Nick Guthrie had been grilling him.
“That you’re stuck on her.” Nash tipped his glass in the direction of the door. “I wouldn’t let the grass grow under your feet. You’re not the only one who’s impressed with your lady.”
Gabe looked back to Nicola and narrowed his eyes when he saw Randolph Meyer raise her hand to his lips.
“Actually, the dress I was originally referring to is on our prime suspect,” Nash said.
Gabe shifted his gaze to Debra Bancroft as she circulated through the guests. Her blond hair was smoothed back into a sophisticated twist, and earrings dangled to her shoulders. As far as Debra knew, they were following through on their original plan for tonight. Debra’s job was to mingle with the guests while the other members of the G. W. Securities’ team were working as waiters just as Jonah was. But Gabe had made a few additions to the plan.
Nash was assigned to keep tabs on Mary Thomas and Randolph Meyer. Both would be seated with him at the Guthries’ table. Nicola was assigned to Mark Adams, who was also sitting with the Guthries. And when the wait-staff moved upstairs to serve dinner, Jonah would discard his uniform and return to the salon by way of one of the air ducts where he’d remain until he was needed. Gabe would stay behind in the salon with Debra, and then they would wait.
He didn’t have a doubt that Debra would make a move. He’d thought out the various scenarios, and he was pretty sure with Jonah’s and Nash’s help, he had them covered. Hopefully, his prayer to St. Francis would ensure their success.
“That dress is not off the racks,” Nash murmured as they watched Randolph Meyer cross the salon in Debra’s direction. “My guess is that it was specifically designed for Ms. Bancroft and for the occasion. Perhaps by our designer friend.”
Gabe ran his gaze over the dress again. It was black, sequined, and fell to the floor in a full skirt that swirled around her as she walked. “We know that Meyer designed it specifically for tonight. It wouldn’t be difficult to hide a forged painting beneath that skirt.”
When he reached her, Randolph Meyer took her hands and kissed them just as he had Nicola’s. Debra did not look pleased.
“They look pretty chummy,” Nash remarked.
“He may not be the mastermind behind the thefts, but he may have a role to play tonight. Keep very close tabs on him,” Gabe murmured.
“On who?” Nicola asked as she joined them.
“Meyer.”
Nicola turned to Nash. “I’m here on a mission. There’s still a line at the door that goes all the way down the stairs to the foyer. Marcia would like you to start leading the way up to the ballroom for dinner. She wants you to escort Mary Thomas.”
“My pleasure, and I’ll convince Meyer to come with us,” Nash said as he moved away.
As Nicola turned to watch the people, she spoke in a low voice to Gabe. “I’m also supposed to let you know that Dad has nothing to report.”
“I recommend the shrimp,” Jonah said as he offered them a tray of canapés. “And I do have something. My business partner called to say that the Forlani estate did have a semi-regular visitor over the years, someone who came specifically to visit the daughter, Claire. And I’ve got a description—tall, blond, attractive.”
“Could be Debra,” Nicola said. “The clues are piling up, but we need more.”
“We’ll get it.” Gabe let his gaze sweep the room. Debra was checking in with one of the waiters, Mary Thomas was moving toward the door on Nash’s arm. Randolph Meyer was following. “You both know what to do,” he said.
Jonah moved away.
“Why is it that you and Jonah get to have all the fun while I have to watch over Mark Adams—Mr. Least Likely to Be Involved in this?”
Gabe met her eyes. “Think of him as involved. And there may be someone we haven’t even thought of. Be careful.”
She took his hands and squeezed them. “I’m going to be sitting at a table with Nash and two FBI agents. You may be down here for a time alone with someone who’s already tried to kill someone today. Be very careful.”
He gripped her hands more tightly when she tried to move away. “Nicola, after this is over, I want some time with you. Maybe we could go away.”
She smiled at him, and he felt it again—that punch to the gut. “We’re on the same page about that.” Then she rose on her toes and brushed her mouth over his. “First, let’s catch that thief.”
CHANDELIERS GLITTERED, silver gleamed and music floated on the air beneath laughter and the buzz of conversation. Nicola Guthrie had to hand it to her stepmother. Marcia Thorne Guthrie knew how to throw a party. The ballroom at Thorne Mansion had never been this crowded, and from the looks on the faces of the guests, people were having a wonderful time.
The Valentine theme was present, but muted. Red ribbons were tied around small parchment favors that contained a print of the Cézanne. Red sweetheart roses floated in small heart-shaped crystal bowls in the center of each table.Nearly forty-five minutes had gone by since dinner service had begun. Waiters were clearing the fish course and pouring red wine for the meat course. However, Nicola wanted more than the filet mignon. Time seemed to be dragging. What if they’d been wrong about who the thief was? What if it was someone who hadn’t even made their list? Or what if the warning note had been a joke?
But each time the questions entered her mind, they were more than offset by the tingle of anticipation inside of her, which was growing stronger by the second.
Across the round table from her, Nash said something to make Mary Thomas laugh. Mark Adams sat directly to her right, Randolph Meyer to her left, and so far, neither of them had done or said anything in the least suspicious. The only thing she’d picked up was that the two men shared an avid interest in wine and thoroughly approved of the selections Marcia had made for the meal.
She might have joined in their conversation if she hadn’t felt so wired. Something was going to happen soon.
As if she’d wished it, the chandeliers flickered overhead and went out. When they came on again, there was a sprinkling of applause. But Mark’s voice was very soft and very clear in her ear. “In a few minutes, the lights will go out again, and you’ll come with me. Make a noise or try to signal anyone, and Gabe Wilder dies. All I have to do is punch a button on my cell phone.”
GABE TURNED TO DEBRA BANCROFT the moment the lights flickered in the salon. She’d glanced up at the overhead chandeliers. But she showed no concern as she shifted her attention back to the Cézanne.
“That’s the signal, isn’t it, Debra? You installed a timer on the main power switch for the house. Your plan is about to begin.”When she turned to face him, there was an icy coldness in her eyes he’d never seen before. And there was a small caliber gun in her hand. “When did you figure it out?” she asked.
The fact that she didn’t attempt to feign innocence told Gabe that his time was short. Jonah would have had time to position himself in the air duct, but there was no way his friend could enter the room without drawing attention to himself.
Gabe figured his best strategy was to throw Debra off balance enough so that he could get the gun or Jonah could enter the room undetected.
“I’ve suspected ever since the second robbery that someone here at G. W. had to be involved. But it wasn’t until I started working with Nicola that I finally concluded it was you.”
Debra frowned. “What could she know? She wasn’t even assigned to work on the robberies.”
“She was assigned to do research and she came up with the theory that the thief—you—had two goals. To steal the art, specifically the Cézanne, and to ruin me.”
“She couldn’t have known that.”
“She even has a theory about why you want to frame me for the robberies. You made a mistake when you sent Claire Forlani after the St. Francis. She left the forgery behind. That helped us put everything together.”
There was a flicker of something in her eyes. Surprise? Anger? Ego? Then they went cold again, and in the icy depths, Gabe caught his first glimpse of madness.
“I never make mistakes. Never. Other people do. You made the mistake of installing a new alarm system and then letting me see it. I’ve had time to adjust my plans. You’ll have to pay now just like the others.”
“Is that what happened to Dee Atherton? She had to pay for her mistakes?”
Gabe noticed the flicker in her eyes again. Definitely surprise this time. “It was the statue that allowed us to connect the dots back to Dee. I know that she came to my father sixteen years ago and that he refused to help her.”
“It wasn’t the first time he’d refused,” she said, the anger clear in her voice. “We’d invited him to join us years ago in Venice and he’d said no because of you. He didn’t want to be tied down because he couldn’t miss this holiday or that holiday with his son.”
“That’s why you’ve scheduled the thefts for holidays. Because my father wanted to spend time with me?”
She smiled and it sent a chill up Gabe’s spine. “Yes. I thought it was a nice touch. He used you as an excuse again when we invited him to join us in stealing the Cézanne from the Denver Art Museum. He wouldn’t even help Dee with the security. That was his mistake. A fatal one. And Dee made hers when she told me that she could go ahead with the plan without him. She wasn’t good enough to pull it off. They both paid.”