East Bound by Nana Malone (best value ebook reader .txt) 📗

"You all certainly look like you were having fun."

"Yes, boys will be boys. And thankfully, we have all grown up since then."

"Right, you have." This time I let him lead me to a seat as he perched on his desk. "Now, Agent Kincade, what can I help you with?"

"Right. So, as you know, we've been investigating a string of art forgeries. Primarily jewels, but as it turns out, paintings as well. Now, having spoken to a few people, I understand that your family was affected by the art forgeries as well. Is that correct?"

His affable smile fell a little. "Ah, well…" I watched him in a split second make all those calculations about whether or not to admit the truth. "Yes, we were. But we prefer to keep it on the hush, honestly. Scandal. It's the bane of the aristocracy."

"I understand that, but at the very least, you could have talked to Interpol about it at the time. It would have helped us get a full picture of the crimes."

"There was no harm no foul. We have recovered our paintings."

"Yes, but I spoke to AJ Hale. My understanding from what she said was that some pieces of her collection were expertly forged. If they hadn’t known to look, it could have been generations before they were discovered. But you say your pieces were recovered?”

He crossed his arms and watched me warily. “That’s what I said.”

“Right. I’m just curious. Did the thieves make the same mistake? Did they intend to replace your pieces and just run out of time? I’m just trying to establish a timeline."

His brow furrowed, and his general geniality started to crumble the more I probed into the events surrounding the forgeries.

Finally, he blurted, "Must we discuss this? It was such a long time ago."

"Well, it’s only been three years, and we would very much like to catch the remaining forgers who are still at large. Miss Hale told me there had been a discussion amongst those involved. She heard from word of mouth that perhaps one of your paintings wasn't authentic and that's what prompted her to look at her own collection."

He sniffed. "Miss Kincade, if you—"

"Agent, actually."

He frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Agent Kincade. You called me Miss."

That brought down a full frown. "Agent Kincade, you can speak to my lawyer about all of this. We have recovered the painting and prefer to just let bygones be bygones."

"Well, all the same, I would just like to complete the picture. Do you mind if I see the authentication chain and the verification on the piece? I want to be able to cross out any open loopholes. Dot every I, cross every T. I want to see if there were any similarities, any patterns."

He crossed his arms then. "I thought they'd caught the forgers."

"Yes, that's what I thought too. But we only caught three of them, and they were involved in the jewel side of the operation. According to one of the forgers, he was hardly the mastermind behind this, and he won't give up his accomplices. But he did say there were at least two others. Anything you can give us could help."

He frowned. "On your way out, Gemma, the maid, she'll get you the paperwork you need."

Ah, so I was being dismissed. He didn't want to talk about it. But why?

As I turned around slowly, I added the one question I'd been waiting to ask since I arrived. "Um, excuse me sir, one more question, which one of those young men is Henry Warlow?"

His sharp gaze narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"Well, you see his name has come up in our investigations. More relating to an older missing painting some thirty years ago, and I couldn't help but notice the same name was on your photograph. Perhaps it's just a coincidence; who knows how popular the name Henry Warlow is? But since he is in the photo with you, because that is you right there on the left, isn't it? Do you know which one he is?"

"That photo was only taken because we were at some regatta. I didn't know half the blokes in it."

"Right sir, but if you could try to remember, it could be very helpful. If we could connect that thirty-year-old case to the one three years ago in any way... It's a long shot, but it would be a great lead."

His voice pitched low as he pushed to his full height. "I told you, I didn't even know half their names. It was a wild summer. Lots of drinking. And it's been well over thirty years."

I nodded slowly and then slipped my card out and handed it to him. "Fair enough. If you can think of anything else, Lord Jameson, I would very much appreciate it." And then I let myself out.

Lord Jameson's response to the name Henry Warlow sent chills down my spine. The goosebumps on my arms hadn't gone down, and my heart still jackhammered in my chest. I knew East was listening. I knew they were just outside grounds. I was safe. But the fear still skittered over my nerves.

"You must be lost, little girl."

I whipped around to find Garreth Jameson lounging across from one of the doors I was trying to open. "Sorry, I was looking for the loo before I head out."

Garreth eyed me warily. "I know you from somewhere."

"Perhaps we met at your father's party several weeks ago."

"No, I don't think so. Have I fucked you before?"

Bile rose up in my throat. "No, you certainly haven't."

"Are you sure, because—” His eyes went wide as realization dawned. “You, you were at the bar with East Hale."

"Ah, so you do have two brains cells to rub together." His gaze narrowed, and I knew I shouldn't have said it, but I couldn't help myself. "Is there a problem?"

"You're sniffing around my house."

"I had an appointment with your father, and I was looking for the loo."

"Here's the thing. I don't believe you. Why are you in my house?"

He was standing close now. Too close.