“Save it,” Leo interrupted. “After this, I’m dragging you down to a twelve-step program. You’re a gambling addict. It’s time to confront it once and for all.”
“I know.” Phil nodded, resigned and utterly depleted. “You won’t have to drag me. I’ll go.”
“And I’ll go with you. I won’t leave until I’m sure you’re sticking it out.” Leo glanced over as his cell phone rang. “Now go home and get some rest,” he advised, reaching for the phone. “You’re about to keel over. Hello,” he said into the mouthpiece.
“Mr. Fox?”
“Yes.”
“This is Special Agent Williams. New information on the Rothberg provenance has just come to light. I’d appreciate your coming down to the Field Office so we can discuss it.”
Leo felt his heart drop to his feet. “What new information?” he asked, wildly beckoning Phil to come back to the front of the studio.
“We’ll go over the details when you’re here. How does ten o’clock tomorrow morning sound?”
How did it sound? Like an order, not a request. “Ten o’clock is fine. Will all my partners be present?”
“I’ll be interviewing you one at a time. It’s easier to keep my facts straight that way. I appreciate your cooperation. I’ll see you tomorrow at ten a.m.”
Click.
White-faced, Leo stared down at his cell as he snapped it shut.
“Was that the FBI?” Phil asked in a tight voice.
“None other.” Leo’s breath was coming in a nervous, uneven rhythm. “Agent Williams wants to reinterview us. All of us. But individually. It seems he has new information on the Rothberg provenance.”
“Why individually? And what could he possibly have?”
“I don’t know,” Leo snapped. “But we’re back on his radar again. And that means trouble, any way you slice it.”
Just as Phil opened his mouth to reply, his cell phone rang.
He an
d Leo stared at each other, then at the phone as Phil fished it out of his pocket.
They both knew who was calling.
Cindy slid on a pair of high-heeled shoes and gave a weary sigh.
She was exhausted. A week of cocktail parties. A week of being “on” every evening. And a week of manipulating Wallace to fall even more in love with her.
Peggy had her hands full, too, working ’round the clock on her forgeries so that both the handpicked originals and their identically created fakes could be shipped to China.
The plan was coming together nicely. Xiao Long was putting the information Cindy provided to good use. There’d already been two burglaries since the steady stream of cocktail parties had begun. Both burglaries took place at the private homes of some of the wealthy guests who’d attended the parties, and who’d discussed their art collections with Cindy after hiring her to redesign their manors.
Cindy chose her victims carefully. Never the host and hostess’s place. Never a couple who spent an extensively long time alone with her. And never a couple whose collections weren’t valuable enough to be worth the trouble.
Leo was both an asset and a pain in the ass. His talent was undeniable, as was his reputation as a world-class decorator. The newly acquired clients practically drooled when they managed to hire Cindy and Leo as a collaborative team.
On the flip side, he never went away. He always had projects to go over with her, or personal conversations he had to have with Wallace for just a few minutes—which always turned into a half hour. Cindy needed time alone with Wallace. It was imperative to solidify his feelings for her.
Sighing, she rose and zipped up her dress. Tonight she’d invite Wallace in for an after-party drink. She’d let things progress—gradually. Depending on how avid Wallace was and how much headway she’d made, she might accept his invitation for a weekend in the Hamptons this week or next.
The odd part was she was actually looking forward to sleeping with him.
Rich went to see Derek the minute his last meeting with the members of the art partnership was finished.