Page 19 of The Prize

“No one else.” He looked coy but quickly broke his gaze and turned to face the indecipherable calculations written on the glass.

I picked up a silver square cube and it fit snugly in my hands. “What’s this?”

Tobias reached out and took it from me. “Careful.”

“What is it?”

He cupped it in his hands. “A deflector. I don’t want it emitting in here.”

I feigned disinterest. “How do I open the front door?”

“Why would you want to?” He threw the cube in the air and it spun and he caught it on the way down.

Seriously?I folded my arms. “What if I need to get some fresh air or something?”

“Something?”

“How do I override the system?”

“What brought this on?”

“Tobias.” I bit the inside of my cheek. “Am I allowed out?”

“Of course.” He ambled up the ramp and secured the large chrome door behind us. Once through the short hallway he opened the door at the other end that led us into the drawing room.

I hurried forward and snatched the gadget out of his hand.

He looked surprised. “There are paintings in here. You’re holding mayhem. One wrong move...”

“Probably no worse than exposing your art to an open fireplace.” I raised my chin proudly. “Tell me the plan, Wilder.”

He let out an exasperated breath. “We get Burell to lead us to your paintings and then we steal them back.”

“How?”

“That you won’t like.”

“What about Huntly Pierre?”

“My team sent an email to your boss stating I’ve hired you. That will keep Huntly Pierre at bay for a while.”

“I imagine there’s an email waiting for me stating I’ve been fired already.”

“The commission I’ll pay for your services will appease Adley. Your boss is perfectly reasonable.”

“And the FBI?”

“They have nothing on me. Or you.”

“They have a photo of me taken in Arizona.” I pointed to him. “And you fit the MO for Icon.”

“So does every other businessman with a private jet and a penchant for art. I have a museum. They’re going to have to do better than that.”

“How do we get Elliot Burell to lead us to my paintings?”

“We use an ingenious decoy. One he’d never suspect. We set up a private auction for a masterpiece and tip off Burell of its existence. He’ll insist he bids first. No doubt bully his way in. He won’t know there is no one else bidding.”

“On what?”