“The owner is tied to a chair in his wine cellar wearing only his golf socks,” Miss Lexa said, standing. She moved like a panther with a headache. “I know. I watched you on the thermal feed from my car. Lovely technique with the lockpick, by the way. Very theatrical.”
“I’m not a cop, Chris.” She walked past him, running a single finger over the gilded frame of the Monet. “I’m the woman who hired you.” chris diamond miss lexa
Chris laughed. It was a dry, humorless sound. “You want me to be bait. For free.” “The owner is tied to a chair in
Chris Diamond had one rule: never work for someone smarter than you. But as he slipped the duplicate card into his pocket and watched Lexa slide the real Monet into a cylindrical case, he realized he’d already broken it. I watched you on the thermal feed from my car
“That’s leverage,” Lexa corrected. “And I’m selling it to the highest bidder tomorrow night at the Biltmore. But I have a problem. A rival collector—a man named Silas Vane—knows I have the card. He’s sent a team to intercept it before the auction.”
“Miss Lexa,” Chris said, placing the Monet on the glass table. “I was just leaving. The owner is… indisposed.”