“I’d never think you would.”
“I’ll have these back to you tonight. First thing in the morning at the latest.”
Tod glanced out the window to see Flynn loitering on the sidewalk. “This doesn’t have anything to do with sexual fetishes or fantasies?”
“No.”
“Well, that’s a shame. I’m walking away. I’m going to have a lovely martini, maybe two, and put all this completely out of my mind.”
“Do just that.”
He started out, then stopped and looked back at her. “Whatever you’re doing, Mal, be careful.”
“I will. Promise.”
She waited, watched Tod stop to speak to Flynn before sauntering off. She opened the door, gestured Flynn in, then locked it, set the security code. “What did Tod say to you?”
“That if I got you into any sort of trouble he’d hang me up by my balls and then snip off various other body parts with manicure scissors.”
“Ouch. Good one.”
“You bet.” He peered out the window to make sure Tod was gone. “And let me tell you, if I was thinking about getting you into any sort of trouble, that image would be a very strong deterrent.”
“I guess, when it comes down to it, I’m the one who could be getting you in trouble. There’s the legal angle, the criminal angle, and your reputation as publisher and editor in chief of the Dispatch on the line here. You don’t have to do this.”
“I’m in. Manicure scissors are those little pointy ones that curve, right?”
“That’s right.”
He hissed out a breath. “Yeah, I was afraid of that. Where do we start?”
“Upstairs, I think. We can work our way down. Assuming the keys in the painting are in proportion, it’ll be about three inches long.”
“Little key.”
“Yes, a fairly little key. The business end is a single, simple drop,” she continued and handed him a small sketch. “The other end is decorative, this complex pattern. It’s a Celtic design, a triple spiral called a triskeles. Zoe found the pattern in one of Dana’s books.”
“You three make a good team.”
“It feels like it. It’s gold, probably solid gold. I can’t imagine we won’t recognize it when we see it.”
He glanced toward the main showroom with its vaulted ceilings and generous space. There were the paintings, of course, and the sculpture and other artworks. Display cases and tables. Drawers and chests and counters with infinite cubbyholes.
“A lot of places a key might hide in here.”
“Wait until we get into the storage and shipping areas.”
They started in the offices. Malory set aside her guilt at going through drawers, riffling through personal items. This wasn’t any time for delicacy, she told herself. She crawled around James’s desk, searching under it.
“Do you really think people like Rowena and Pitte, or whatever god’s in charge of hiding the keys, would tape the secret key to the bottom of a desk drawer?”
She sent him a sulky look as she slid the drawer back in place. “I don’t think we can afford to overlook any possibility.”
She looked so cute, he thought, sitting on the floor with her hair tied back from her face and her mouth all pouty. He wondered if she’d worn black because she felt it suited the circumstances.
It would be just like her.
“Fair enough, but we’d get through those possibilities faster if we called the whole team in.”