Page 34 of Sticky Fingers

I let loose a huge sigh of frustration and glare at Malcolm.

He looks at me with a cocky smirk. And then the smug bastard actually winks.

I get the urge to punch him in the face. I hold back, though. Barely.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Malcolm starts, addressing the crowd that has gathered in the lobby, “I was thrilled when I found the painting. I’m proud to say that the Picasso will once more take its place here, on the walls of the Clarendon Tower Art Gallery. Once Detective Strong signs off that the painting has been found, I will put it up in the gallery for all of you to admire once more.”

A new wave of applause fills the room once more.

Fucking idiots. That can’t be the real Picasso.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” Dominic suddenly appears out of the crowd. “How the hell did you find the painting, man?”

“I have my ways…and a lot of skilled people who work for me helped as well.”

He looks right at me as he says it. He thinks he’s bested me. He thinks he’s won, but I’m not as gullible as everyone here seems to be.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he suddenly says, “I have to find Detective Strong.”

“Of course,” Daphne replies. “Thank you so much, Malcolm, for finding the painting. This means so much to the gallery…and to me.”

“It was my pleasure, Daph. To make sure it’s not stolen again, I’m going to hold the painting in my own apartment, if that’s alright with you.”

I look at Daphne and Dominic. No way are they going to agree to that. The painting needs to be secured in a safe place, not this man’s apartment. They’d be crazy to agree to it.

Dominic, though, is actually nodding in agreement. What the hell is going on with people today? Have their brains stopped functioning?

“That would probably be best,” Dominic states. “Your apartment does have better security. I’m okay with that.”

“I agree,” Daphne pipes in. “It needs to be in the safest place possible. We don’t need it being stolen again. Thank you, Malcolm, for offering to keep it safe. I can’t wait until it’s back in the gallery, though.”

“Me too,” Malcolm responds. “It deserves to be back there, that’s for sure. Now, off to find the detective.”

He walks off with one last meaningful look aimed towards me. I stare at him blankly, giving him no reaction.

“Isn’t he wonderful, Sonia?” Daphne asks.

I turn back to face her.

“You really think he’s the best option for protecting the painting? I heard he was a suspect. Isn’t that a conflict of interest or something?”

“Malcolm has heavy security in his apartment,” Dominic replies with a shrug. “No one will be able to get to the painting there. As for him being a suspect, that’s just one of the board members having a grudge against Malcolm. The fucking condo board president doesn’t like Malcolm, you know? I wouldn’t worry about it, Sonia. The painting is in capable hands.”

“Okay,” I grumble. “I have to put these groceries up. I’ll see you two around. It was good to see you again.”

“Bye, Sonia,” Daphne says as she suddenly moves toward me to give me a hug.

I hug her back politely and then head toward the elevators.

I have so many questions rolling around in my head, but I can’t figure out the answer for any of them.

One thing I know for sure—Malcolm hasn’t found and returned the stolen Picasso.

You can take that to the bank.

I’m going to find out what game he’s playing right now and what fucking painting he brought in for the detective.

I’ll get the answers out of him one way or another.

Tonight.