Charming. A pawnbroker's paradise.
Gnome took another long swallow from the bottle and strode between the shelves to a beautiful antique coffee table, surrounded by plush red chairs. He settled into one and indicated the other two with a sweep of his hand.
Audrey perched in a chair. Kaldar sat next to her.
"So what can I do you for?"
Audrey leaned forward with a charming smile. "You've done business with Seamus."
"Yeah." Gnome shrugged. "What of it?"
"If he had to unload a hot item on the West Coast, where would he go?"
"How hot?"
"The Hand wants it," Kaldar said.
Gnome grunted. "What the hell . . . Okay, what sort of item?"
"It's a gadget," Audrey said. "With military applications. He got at least forty grand for it."
"US currency?"
"Mhm."
"Well, he didn't sell it to me, I can tell you that much. I won't touch anything the Hand wants. Isn't worth the risk. And if you and your fiance have any sense, you will leave this thing alone." Gnome rose and disappeared between the shelves.
"Fiance," Kaldar mouthed at Audrey and wagged his eyebrows.
She shrugged. "Don't get any ideas."
"Too late."
Oh, he had ideas, and if the circumstances were different, he would explain them to her. In a lot of detail. With practical demonstrations.
Gnome returned, carrying an enormous book, four feet tall and at least six inches thick. He pulled a book pedestal from behind the shelf and lowered the book onto it. "There are about ten people on the West Coast who would buy Hand-hot merchandise." He opened the book and flipped through the pages. "Of those, six could come up with forty grand on short notice. We can rule out Vadim Urkovski."
"Why?" Audrey asked.
"He got himself jailed in Sacramento for running a stoplight while roaring drunk, then punching a cop." Gnome grinned. "His wife refused to post bail. Apparently, he wasn't alone in the car. He'll get out of it, but it will take time."
"That leaves us with five," Kaldar said.
"That it does." Gnome flipped the old page. On it a large photograph showed a woman with flowing brown hair. "We can rule out Vicki as well. Seamus is superstitious. He once did a deal with her and got pinched right after. Wouldn't work with her since. So we're down to four." Gnome flipped another page. On it, a tall blond man in a pale fisherman sweater and jeans leaned against a Mercedes. "Kaleb Green. Operates near Seattle. Will buy anything for the right price."
"Too far," Audrey said. "Alex is in rehab in northern California, and Seamus wouldn't travel over a long distance with a lot of money."
Gnome turned the page. A woman in a bright skirt and a pale beige vest over a white blouse smiled into the camera. A pair of rose-tinted glasses perched on her nose. A layered necklace with large wooden and turquoise beads hung from her neck. There was something deeply predatory in her eyes. The outfit said hippy. The eyes said deepwater shark.
"Magdalene. She's near San Diego."
Audrey frowned. "She is a possibility. I never heard him mention her, but that's neither here nor there."
Gnome flipped a couple more pages. "Morell de Braose. He probably isn't your guy. He deals mainly in jewelry and art."
Jewelry. Like bracelets, for example. Kaldar leaned forward, focusing on the photo. The man on the page wore a pricey suit, that dark, expensive shade of gray that worked equally well for luxury suits or red-carpet gowns. He appeared to be in his early forties, blond, with a carefully trimmed beard on a youthful, tan face. He had the athletic build of a man who either belonged to or owned a gym and had copious leisure to attend it. Behind him, a luxurious office spread, all dark, polished furniture, decorated with antique statuettes and daggers with gilded hilts on the walls.
Audrey frowned.
"This is the man," Kaldar said.
"How do you know?" Gnome raised his furry eyebrows.
"A feeling I get."
Gnome rolled his eyes and lifted the page.
"Hold on." Audrey got up off her seat and leaned over the page. "He's right."
"Why?"
Audrey pointed to the picture. "See that marble statue of a half-naked woman? The one on the gold pedestal?"
"Yeah." Gnome squinted.
"That's Aurora by Ciniselli."
"And?" Kaldar asked.
Audrey turned to them with a look of triumph on her face. "I stole her. Eight years ago. Seamus sold her for ten grand. We needed money in a hurry, and I remember him saying the man he sold it to was good for quick cash in a pinch. It was a pain-in-the-ass heist, too. Took two weeks, and I got hit by a car at the end of it."
Now there was a story. Kaldar made a mental note to ask her about it later.
Gnome shrugged. "Hate to tell you, but he got ripped off. The statue Aurora has been appraised between thirty-five and fifty."
Audrey stared at the picture and swore.
KALDAR leaned back in his seat and hung one leg over the other. Audrey watched him out of the corner of her eye. The man was a chameleon, who changed personalities the way a teenage girl changed outfits, trying to find the right one before a big party.
Why was she still here? He had gotten what he wanted - they figured out where Seamus must have unloaded his merchandise. She should go, grab Ling, and disappear.
Audrey eyed Kaldar. Back at the house, when he spoke about his family, his eyes had turned merciless. A little of his true self had showed - that was the real man, ruthless and resolute. All the rest were just disguises.
Kaldar caught her glance and smiled. Yes, yes, you are a handsome devil. Emphasis on devil. He was flirting with her, either because he liked what he saw or, more likely, because he had decided it would be an easy way to keep her agreeable. He went from I'll walk over you to I can't take my eyes off your butt kind of quick.
A small annoying thought nagged at her. If she hadn't taken the job, none of this would've happened, and the Edge wouldn't be at risk. Which was stupid because had she not taken the job, her dad would've just found somebody else. She wasn't the only picklock in the Edge. Well, she was probably the best, but not the only one.
What was she thinking? Seamus wouldn't have had a prayer of breaking into that pyramid without her. The lock on the first door, which led to the passage, was easy enough, but some of the inner locks had taken her a full ten minutes each. Complicated locks weren't a problem, but if the tumblers were heavy, opening them took a lot of effort. The bolts and bars were the worst. Sliding an inch-wide bar by magic felt like trying to lift a truck. When she finally swung open the final door, her nose was bleeding and she had to lie down. She had made this whole burglary possible.