jaw. Any revisit of Sam’s past made him edgy. As if by talking about it, Sam could end up back there at the lowest point in his life.
“Sam.” Eli shouldn't be talking to his brother about this.
Sam shrugged. “What? We're not going to talk about the fact that I went to jail for grand larceny because I was accused of forging artwork? C'mon. I've paid my debt. I can help you, if you want.”
Eli needed the help but he hesitated. Asking Sam to go back to that dark place wasn’t something he was willing to risk. And his brother’s line of questioning had his mind working overtime. Sam certainly had the skill. But would he risk everything again? “I don’t think it's a good id—”
Sam rolled his eyes and sauntered into the living room. “If you haven’t been able to find the signature then start looking for what isn’t there. Look for an uneven patch of paint or inconsistencies in the canvas. It'll look like a water mark or something somewhere in a layer of paint or on that canvas. The artist has marked it. He wouldn’t have been able to resist.”
Eli nodded. “Thanks. I’ll have to go back and examine the originals.”
“Also, whoever’s doing this has probably been doing this for a while. Once you start, and you know you’re good enough, you can’t really stop.”
Eli pinned a narrowed eyed gaze on his brother. “What the fuck are you saying? You still do copies of pieces?”
Sam shrugged. “Relax, E. They are only for me, and I burn most of them after they’re done. But I need to keep the skill active. I need to know deep down that I’m still good enough. When I was using, it’s one of the things that kept me going. To know I was still capable. I would never throw away the chance you’ve given me or try and pretend that I had the real thing again, but once you have the skill, it’s a skill acquired.”
Eli shook his head, incredulous. “Sam, do you know the kind of risk you’re taking? How stupid it would be for you to get caught?”
“Like I said. They’re just for me, and I burn them. You don‘t have to worry. I swear, Eli.”
Eli didn’t like it, but at the end of the day there was nothing he could do to stop it. “Sam, you’re going to be the death of me.”
Sam chewed thoughtfully. “You know, you should be the artist instead of chasing after criminals. There would have come a time when you admired the work of these forgers.”
“What they are doing is wrong, Sam. It’s my job to catch them.”
“I know it’s wrong. I’m only saying, you can’t help but admire the skill. I mean to pull off a Picasso forgery—that takes some talent.”
“Tell me about it.”
At least Eli had something to go on now, but taking Sam’s help still didn’t sit well. It wasn’t the way of the world. He was the one who took care of his brother. Or at least he’d tried. He also didn’t need Sam’s past finally catching up with them.
“That’s okay, I don’t need any thanks. As long as you keep me fed in fettuccini.”
Chapter 9
The following morning, Eli rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He’d only managed four hours of sleep. After Sam had left, he’d spent the rest of the night going over every inch of the case again. Then Sam had called at an ungodly hour with his latest emergency. So, of course, Eli had dragged himself out of bed and gone to the studio with nothing more than four hours of sleep.
“Hey, Sam, can we get this show on the road. What do you need me for that’s so urgent?”
“You know what your problem is, Eli? You’re too wound up. Can you let a guy have his coffee first?”
“You called me, remember? You said it couldn’t wait. Everything okay?”
A lithe brunette walked out of the half bath to the side of the studio. “Hi, Eli.”
“Hey, Jocelyn. How’s it going?” He managed a small smile for her. After all, she was helping keep his brother clean.
“Can’t complain.”
Eli wasn’t sure if he should worry about Sam spending so much time with Jocelyn. Did this mean trouble on the horizon?
Sam stalked over and clapped him on the chest. “You have to change.”
“Why? I’m dressed fine. I’m not the trendy one.” Eli rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s go ahead and get this done. I don’t have all day.