Nancy Sinatra, sat on an easel. Thomas Kane’s work had come to prominence with Warhol. The two of them had run in the same circles. Rumor was they were also occasional lovers. Eli frowned as he approached the painting. “The color matching is exquisite.” Pulling out his glasses, he set his carrier bag on the nearby table. “The stroke work is almost an exact match.” Eli shook his head.
Vince whistled low. “This guy is good.” He peered at the painting. “I mean, you’re the expert, you tell me. Would you have known this was a forgery?”
Eli shook his head. That was what scared him. He quickly took a paint sample. “I won’t know until we test it, but I’d estimate the thief made the switch not more than 48 hours ago.” He looked up at his partner. “Do you have a timeline for the owner’s whereabouts over the last week?”
“Yeah. They were home. In and out, but it’s not like they were on vacation or something.”
“So it has to be someone with knowledge of the family’s movements.”
Vince nodded. “Whoever did the switch’s got a set on him, too. Old man was saying he’s had his grandkids in and out. They’ve been planning for their big anniversary party in two weeks.”
Eli puffed out a breath and examined the painting. Sam had said every forger he’d ever known couldn't help themselves. At the core of every forger was an artist waiting for recognition. Who for some reason didn’t have the talent or the imagination to create something new, but could copy flawlessly. Had the artist signed this one, too?
Then he saw what he was looking for. Exactly where he’d expected to find it. Carefully, he took his scraper and adjusted a pencil size amount of fresh paint. There, under the bold strike of blue. He saw the stroke of an etched bold S. His insides went icy. Samson. Blood rushed through his ears and his breathing sped to match his galloping heart. Samson. His twin had lied to him. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into, Sam?
“Well? Is it our guy?”
Eli cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, seems that way.” What could he say? Vince was no moron. Eli might be the art expert, but his partner was like a dog with a bone; he’d discover what the signatures were soon enough and chase them down until it tied back to Sam. Eli would have to figure out some other method to protect Samson. He’d put his own life on hold trying to take care of his little brother If this forgery was Samson’s, Eli would risk it all again to save him. No matter the cost.
But maybe there was hope. He had to talk to Sam first.
“So what are you thinking, Vince?”
“I’d say the painting was worth, what, an easy quarter mil?”
More like three hundred. “Yeah about.”
Vince shrugged. “Well, given that the paint is so fresh, this was a well-timed heist, if you want to call it that.”
Eli nodded. “I have something for you, too.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed Vince the photo he’d taken of Michael Fenton. “This is the guy I texted you about. He’s Jessica’s mother’s new fiancé.”
“Jessica as in the girl you’re…” his voice trailed off.
“It’s a very long, complicated story.”
“Then why don’t you tell me, because if I’m going to put you under with his guy, I need all the details I can gather.”
Undercover? “You really think that’s a good idea? I’ve got him dead to rights weaseling into her mother’s life.”
“I need a little thing called proof.”
Eli cursed. He gave Vince the rundown of the situation, leaving Samson out of it as much as possible. He did tell Vince about Fenton recognizing him or thinking he did. When he was done, Vince gave a low wolf whistle.
“Yeah, tell me about it.”
“She’s gonna be pissed when she finds out you lied to her.”
“I know.”
“No, you don't really know until she starts burning all your clothes.” Vince laughed. “You got an exit plan?”
Besides try not to fuck her? “Plan is to tell her the truth after the gallery opening.”
“Look, I’m not telling you to lie, but I’m asking you to do your job. We need proof on Fenton. That bracelet could be it. If she can bring it in, we might be able to bring this guy down, and when we do, we’ll get the forger and his whole network. But it means you playing Samson again.”
Right now, it looked like all