Taccone smiled. “I assume you got my flowers.” His voice was low against the din of the crowd.
“They were beautiful.”
“Well,” he said casually, dabbing his napkin to the corner of his mouth, “I do hope they brought you some joy. You have been working so very hard.”
“I drink caffeine,” she said calmly. “Lots of it. Gives you pep.”
Arturo Taccone laughed softly, but there was something odd about the sound. As if it too had been stolen from its rightful owner.
He sliced into a beautiful filet. But as he brought his fork to his mouth, he paused. “Forgive me. Are you sure I can’t get you and your companion something?”
“Thank you, but no.”
“I must say, you have not made things easy for me, Katarina.” He took a bite. “Interesting. But not easy.”
“If it makes you feel any better, my own father would probably agree with you.”
“Ah, yes.” He took a sip of wine. “How is your father? Does prison agree with him? I hear he’s coping quite well. Of course, the case against him is . . . shaky. A single eyewitness, I understand.”
“Yes,” Kat said. “You’re looking at her.”
A shocked smile spread across Arturo Taccone’s face, and Kat felt a sense of pride that she had won one round of whatever game they were playing. She only wished the game were over.
“I do hope I’ll see you again when this is finished, Katarina.
A man in my position has so many uses for a person with your talents.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kat lied, then changed the subject. “I’m not going to tell you when,” she told him, “but you’ll know when it happens.”
“So, clandestine operations are not your forte, then?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just counting on one of the half dozen guys you have stationed outside the Henley to tip you off when the time comes.”
He smiled, and Kat knew that this was somehow the highlight of his incredibly decadent dinner.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. “Twenty-four hours after it’s over I’ll meet you at this address with the paintings.” She stood, and it felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her.
“You’re very thorough, Katarina. I meant what I said. When this is finished, you do not have to go back to the Colgan School—or someplace like it. This, as they say, could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”
Kat looked at her cousin. “I already have all the friends I need.”
The lights were off when they got back. The house was still, peaceful. Sleeping. Or so she thought.
“Hi, Hale.”
She saw him through the open door of the dining room, sitting at an ancient-looking table. Twenty high-backed chairs surrounded him, but Hale was alone at the table’s head. He was there, Kat knew, waiting for her.
“Hot date?” she asked. But this time Hale didn’t have a comeback.
“Are you gonna get mad if I say I don’t like you going to see him alone?”
“Jealous?” she said, trying to tease, but the boy in the shadows wasn’t smiling.
“Take Angus and Hamish. Take Simon.” Kat raised her eyebrows. “Okay, so don’t take Simon. Take . . . Nick, if that’s what you want.” Hale seemed to stumble on the name. “Just don’t trust Taccone, Kat.”
“I took Gabrielle.” Kat pointed at her cousin, who was walking through the front door.
“I was the muscle,” Gabrielle called. She didn’t break her stride as she started up the stairs.