Mismatch - By Nana Malone Page 0,21

the case, his mind kept straying to the woman he couldn’t get out of his head. Not only did she not want anything to do with him, but she also thought he was Sam. Shit just couldn't get any worse.

Except that she was fucking with his concentration. Before Friday, if anyone had asked what rattled him, he'd have said nothing. Vince was right when he called him ice. It was part of the facade. Now Jessica Stanton had started carving something out inside him, and he didn't like it. He'd known her two days, and already his control was slipping.

Eli dragged his attention back to the board. He'd been over it a million times, and he knew he'd missed something. Loose ends didn't agree with him, and he'd lost more than a few hours of sleep to this.

His meeting with Jessica had him on edge. Of course the one woman that held his interest in years had to be the same woman who could offer salvation to his brother. Her contacts were impeccable. Her father and grandfather had left imprints on the art scene backing some of the most talented artists he'd ever seen. If she had their skill, she could change things for Sam.

Too bad she wasn’t going to take him on. Too bad you won’t be sleeping with her again. Eli ignored the twitch in his dick that happened every time he thought about her and tried to concentrate.

“You find anything good?”

Eli didn't bother turning around. Vince had a habit of just walking into his office.

“If by something good you mean nothing, then yeah. I found something good. It’s not exactly easy looking for a needle in a haystack; trying to find some similarity in the forgeries other than they’re good.”

Vince waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah yeah, you look at pretty pictures for a living and are a professional cynic. Doesn’t make you special. I got an ex-wife just like you.”

Eli rolled his shoulders, concentrating on the paintings. There was no rhyme or reason behind the forgeries. They were from different eras, classics, pop art, modern pieces. “None of this makes any sense, Vince. I know we've overlooked something critical.”

Vince sat down in his chair and made himself at home. “Then I'm guessing now would be a bad time for me to tell you we've got another forgery for the Millionaire Doubles case.”

Eli frowned. “The what?”

“That’s what the bosses are calling it.” Vince shrugged. “I just call it the sneaky bastard case.”

“This can’t be the sneakiest shit you've ever seen.”

“And you'd be right about that. I’ve been chasing this one con man around for two years. Slippery bastard. Identity crimes con who amassed a huge fortune by conning rich women out of their life savings. Oh yeah and check fraud. I mean, who writes checks anymore, right?”

“What's the case?”

“This one came in from the Marshalls.”

Now this was getting interesting. “One of them has a hidden Picasso on his wall?”

Vince ignored him. “They have some rich bastard in Wit Sec who rolled over on some powerful friends. At any rate, he made the classic mistake of calling home to an old girlfriend, and they had to move him again. This guy has a taste for the finer things in life; they found a Picasso exactly like the one we have for the Millionaire Doubles.”

“The Femma a La Toilette?”

“Yep, that's the one.”

“If it is the same piece, then we need to start adjusting our point of view here. We’ve been making assumptions that we're dealing with a ring of forgers, since the pieces were so different. It takes years of practice and talent to be able to learn the techniques to pull this kind of thing off. And even then, to pull off a genuine classic would require time and the same steady hand. If the two forgeries are the exact same, it’s unlikely two different people could have painted them. I want to see the piece in person.”

“I already have a team bringing it over.”

Eli stared back at his evidence wall and shoved up the sleeves of his knit sweater. “We’ve been working from the angle that there is one mastermind and several forgers; operating on the assumption that given the breadth of work, he'd need a few people with a few different skills. What if he only needs one?”

“You think one person painted all these?” Vince's brow furrowed. “That would need someone with mad skills right?”

“Right.”

“How many people have the kind of skill to do that kind of