Page 19 of Disarming Caine

“I read you should always use lard. A lot of people avoid it these days because, you know, lard, but it produces a better crust.”

I sifted through potential matches while Lucy babbled about proper ways to sift flour. How was this master-of-trivia, plugged-in maven, my best friend? I wouldn’t have believed it four months ago.

Interpol had three hits—two with a windmill and one without. The two with windmills didn’t quite match the one we were looking at, but it could have been a trick of the light or some damage. “Shit.”

“Sorry, did you actually want your piece?”

“No clear matches. Either I need to get into that house to get a look at the real thing or I need to submit the image for a visual comparison.”

“As much as I love the digital snooping, not sure I’m up for breaking and entering.”

I snatched the container from her and moved back to the couch and my fork. “I should call Elliot and get his thoughts.”

“Elliot’s that FBI agent from the press conference you were in about the Scotts?”

I nodded and shoveled a giant piece of pie in my mouth. This was a minor setback. The paintings from the FBI database could be duplicates of those in the Interpol database—I’d check when I finished the pie. And if they were, I could still research how and when each had gone missing. Maybe that would lead me somewhere.

“He’s the FBI Art Crimes contact?”

“Mm-hmm,” I indicated around a mouthful. It barely registered on my tongue before I swallowed it. “I’m going to keep digging a little more before I call in reinforcements.”

“Hey! I’m reinforcements!”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know, I know. Not super secret won’t tell my friends about it kinda reinforcements.” Lucy’d been my secret weapon in more than one investigation already, but even she didn’t have all the resources I needed.

“Ha ha.” My phone buzzed with a reminder, and I shot off the couch. “Dammit—we need to hurry up! Our slot at The Ridge is in fifteen minutes and we still need to get changed into our rock climbing gear.”

“I’d move faster if you let me eat the rest of that pie.”

I handed the container to her so she could scarf down the last bites. “I’m pretty sure extra pie will make you slower.”

After tossing the container into the sink to clean when I got home, I threw my backpack over my shoulder and waited at the door for her.

“I was thinking about hitting the bouldering wall.”

“Not a chance.” I locked up behind her and grinned over my shoulder. “That five-point-six route is calling your name. I refuse to continue teaching you anything else until you conquer it.”

Chapter 7

Samantha

Twodayslater,Iput the truck into park in front of Ferraro’s Fine Art Restoration and Conservation. Black lampposts lined the two-lane street, decorated with little Italian flags and flower baskets overflowing with pine boughs and red bulbs. This section of Calabria Street—where the street signs read Via Calabria, as it would have been called in Italy—was the heart of Brenton’s Italian business community. It was dotted with small shops like Ferraro’s, including my favorite cafe down the road.

The front of the white-washed building had large glass windows, providing a view of the reception area with its black couches and Sofia’s two-tiered desk.

“Any news on that painting?” Lucy asked from the passenger seat, while she scrolled through some message feed.

“Based on what I found in the FBI and Interpol databases, I’m thinking it’s either one that was stolen from Los Angeles in 2013 or Vancouver in 2012. But I need to get a closer look and check out the back of it to be sure. They’re having an invite-only showing just after New Year's I’m going to wrangle an invite to—did you want to come with me?”

“In-person snooping?”

“Isn’t that what you do during a showing? I was also planning on canvassing the neighborhood to find out about the owners.”

She looked up from her phone. “Do you know who they are?”

“Yeah, the Homeowners insurance is through Foster. It’s an older couple and I couldn’t find anything on them that would indicate they were art thieves. I’ve heard about worse, though.”