TOUGH ENOUGH: Chapter Three
Will froze, staring at the wide-eyed woman in front of him. Well, it's been twelve years, idiot. What were the chances she'd still be Mia Shaeffer?
A split second later, red-hot fury filled him. He was going to fucking kill Ben Sheridan. He'd known and hadn't said a word -- unless "you won't need an alias" counted as a warning.
Shaking her head in disbelief, Mia said, "I just...I can't believe this!"
Instinct kicked in then, forcing back the shock and anger. This was a role like any other, nothing more than improvising and smoothtalking. Taking a quick, head-clearing breath, he said, "Hello, Mia. It's been a long time."
She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Generous curves filled out her black cargo pants and red silk sweater, though her curling dark hair was now shoulder-length rather than falling to the middle of her back. And her eyes...the same wide, dreamy-soft brown eyes dominated her heart-shaped face, with its single dimple on the right cheek and full mouth that smiled so easily.
That mouth now curved up in a shy smile. She hesitated, then hugged him lightly, lips brushing across his cheek. Before he could think better of it, Will hugged her back.
He was hugging one of his suspects.
He'd forgotten how she'd always fit against him just right, the top of her head coming right below his chin -- and she must've forgotten about their last conversation, all the hateful things they'd said to each other. Otherwise she never would've dared touch him like this.
Mia eased away, her smile fading as he let her go and took a step back toward much-need emotional safety.
Haddington cleared his throat. "I take it you two know each other."
"Will's an old friend from my days at the uni." She glanced at the tall, blond woman who'd come in with her, who still stood by the door. "And an old boyfriend. I'm...well, shocked doesn't cover it." Turning to Will, she said, "You're the last person I ever expected to see again."
No shit. "Yeah, it still surprises me sometimes that I ended up in the art business." That, at least, was the absolute truth.
"When I last talked with you," Mia said, "you were going to teach high school."
"And when I last talked to you, you wanted a career in museum conservation."
And a boyfriend who "understood" your needs and your dreams.
The sharp bitterness took him by surprise; he'd sworn he'd put aside the anger and blame years ago, and moved on.
"And here I am creating legal fakes, instead." She briefly dropped her gaze. "Not quite what I'd planned, but I have a certain talent for it. Gotta go where the talent takes you."
Will hoped it hadn't taken her to the wrong side of the law. In the short time he'd spent talking with Haddington, the man had struck him as too transparent to concoct any kind of scheme. The slender blonde radiated a nervousness typical of the shy and awkward; though pretty, next to Mia she faded into invisibility. His first impression was that she didn't look the type to plan or pull off a major art heist, either.
Yet within the week, he'd expose one of them as a thief.
After a moment, Will said softly, "You haven't changed much."
"I wish -- but I'm sure that's not true." A faint blush colored her cheeks. "You, on the other hand, have grown into a very handsome man. And it is nice to see you again, Will."
Awkward as hell was more like it, judging by the expression in her eyes.
"What an amazing coincidence...bloody amazing," Haddington said, beaming with undisguised delight. "You two will have a lot to catch up on, then, won't you? Since you've already talked to me, Will, please feel free to use my office if you'd like to get reacquainted with Mia. Vanessa and I can get back to work while you talk."
"Thanks, but that won't be necessary." Relief flashed across Mia's dark eyes, and Will added, "I've been in airports and planes for almost two days straight, and I was thinking of keeping things brief today and getting down to business tomorrow morning."
Initial shock and potential complications aside, the fact that he and Mia already knew each other could be useful. If nothing else, it would make asking necessary questions that much easier.
With that in mind, he turned back to Mia. "Maybe we could get together tomorrow for breakfast, before you start work?"
The blonde sighed behind him, and Mia suddenly smiled. "That would be perfect. There's a café about three blocks from here called Bella's Bistro. How about I meet you there at 7AM?"
"I'll be there. It'll be great to have a chance to catch up with each other."
Amazingly, he meant it -- and along with the realization came a stab of guilt. Dismissing it, he turned to the quiet blonde, who was watching him with undisguised curiosity. Like Mia, she was dressed casually, wearing jeans and a plain white shirt.
"My apologies, Ms. Sharpton, for not introducing myself." Smiling, he held out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
She took his hand, squeezing it quickly before pulling away and stepping back. "No apologies required. I'd be distracted, too, if I were in your place. And please, call me Vanessa. We're not very formal here."
Haddington clapped his hands, his droopy brows making Will think of a basset hound in a fedora. "Excellent. Glad that's all settled. Now, then, you two can get back to whatever you were doing. Shall I start the grand tour, Will?"
Glad for the chance to put a little distance between him and Mia, Will nodded. "Yes, please."
The tour didn't take long. Haddington Reproductions provided an appropriately artsy reception area for clients who didn't want to risk getting paint or sawdust on their suits. The workshop was dominated by big wooden benches, computers with massive monitors, and power tools separated from the workstations to reduce noise and dust contamination. Safety goggles sat by the drill press and table saw, the sander and lathe, and the wax-casting station looked messy and well-used. The whole area smelled of wood, hot wax, paint, wet clay, glue, and oiled machine parts.
There wasn't a horizontal or vertical surface that hadn't been used for storage. Rolls of canvas hung from the ceiling, suspended over a cutting table as in a fabric store. Tall shelving units lined the back wall, each holding dozens of clear plastic bins in various sizes, full of paint tubes or jars or cans, brushes, chisels and spatulas, and a jumble of art-related tools. A bookshelf outside Hugh's office was crammed full of art and art history books.
A bench, computer desk, and microscopes for detail work equipped each workstation, and Will located the source of the pungent scent of freshly cut wood. Lumber for frames and other projects was stacked against the back wall, beside the large vault bolted to the concrete floor.
There were no windows in this area, and Will didn't notice additional cameras, not even by the vault. Still, the security was impressive; its only real flaw was that it focused on keeping unwanted people from getting inside. When it came to keeping something inside from getting out, it was all but useless.
Inside jobs were a bitch. There wasn't much any museum, gallery, or estate could do to protect itself from betrayal by a trusted insider.
"What's in the vault?" Will asked.
"Anything we need to keep secure, of course," Haddington answered, giving the bulky metal of the vault door a fond pat. "Right now we're working on three reproduction projects. One's a standard copy of Old Masters for the CEO's office at a new investment banking firm, another is a small collection of Greek vases and figures for a traveling exhibit to inner-city schools -- we're doing that one on a tight budget that's proving to be quite the challenge -- and the Eudoxia collection."
"For which the budget is limitless," Will said.
"Mal's paying us for the best of the best, and that's what we're here to deliver." Hugh moved away. "The vault's also where we keep gold leaf and silver, as well as rougher gemstones for projects that require them. We contract out to local jewelers for any actual cutting: it saves time."
"That's a specific skill?"
"Yes, and I'm not any good at it. Nor is Mia or Vanessa."
"But they have their own skills."
"Oh, yes. Vanessa is trained in art and can reproduce anything in paint or inlay from Neolithic to pop culture. Mia is my jewelry and metals expert. We get a lot of requests for jewelry reproductions, which keeps her very busy."
Will glanced at Mia. She smiled at him, then returned her attention to a pair of gold and pearl earrings he recognized. Lady Eudoxia had been a jewelry addict; not much different from any modern teenage girl who all but lived in a mall.
"And you?" Will asked. "What's your area of expertise?"
"A little of everything, though wood carving and sculpting was my forte at the British Museum. I help out wherever I'm needed."
"So is Vanessa working on the reliquary?"
Will knew she was, but he wanted a closer look. When Haddington nodded and headed around the partition to stand inside Vanessa's work cubicle, Will followed.
Will instantly picked up on the tension that hummed around the woman. "Do you mind if I watch?" he asked as he approached.
"I'm not to used to it, but I don't mind. I'm nearing the final stages now. The reds on the petals here aren't quite right. I'm having a little trouble with them."
He'd have to take her at her word, because what sat on her bench looked to his eyes identical to the pictures in the file. The reliquary was an amazing piece: barely three inches long and only an inch deep, dominated by a colorful cloisonné panel of the crucified Christ on the front with a stylized floral border. The hinges were edged in gold niello. A fragile sliver of wood attached to a sharp thorn, darkened by what some believed to be the blood of Jesus Christ himself, was still nestled within the inner compartment of the original.
A fake, like most relics from those days, but it made for a good story. The legendary curse, and the strange deaths of a number of its owners since its discovery in 1876, only added to the notoriety. The reliquary was by far the best sound bite in the funerary goods of a wealthy, privileged girl who'd died in childbirth when she'd been only nineteen.
Some people babbled when nervous, but Vanessa Sharpton seemed the quiet type. He'd have to nudge her along to get her to talk. "This must've taken you a lot of time."
"Yes, it's been quite the project. I had a couple false starts and few uneasy nights before it all started to come together." Her long, thin fingers trembled as she patiently sifted through red paint chips. She looked over at him. "It's funny, but Mia was just talking about you before we walked in."
"Vanessa!"
Will glanced at Mia, then back at a pink-cheeked Vanessa. "Really? What did she say?"
"Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. It wasn't all that --"
"We were swapping stories about dates from hell," Mia interrupted. "I told her about our first date, when I tried to roll up the window, but --"
"-- stuck your arm inside the car to roll it up. I remember that." The memory flooded back with an intensity that took him by surprise, and he couldn't help smiling.
She'd been wearing a sexy black dress and he'd wanted to touch her so badly it had hurt. Her flustered response, her self-conscious smile...damn if he hadn't fallen in love with her right then and there. As naïve as he'd been, and ruled by his dick, he'd never stood a chance.
"Figures." Mia's glum voice cut across his thoughts. "Of all the things to remember, it would be that one."
"I thought you were cute." He met those dark, heavy-lidded eyes, and for a moment he completely forgot about Haddington and Vanessa. "That's what I remember, anyway."
He remembered the sex, too, which had been excellent. There'd been many good days before things had soured -- and all of it was ancient history, he reminded himself, useful now only if it could be turned to his advantage.
"Sorry," Will said to Hugh. "I know I'm not here to talk about college days."
Haddington appeared disappointed that the personal detour had ended. "Back to the boring work thing, then?"
Will laughed. "Boring? How can you, a man who spends hours working with two such beautiful and talented women, say that?"
Haddington chuckled and pushed up the brim of his fedora. "There is that."
"I bet their husbands are jealous of all the hours you spend locked away back here with them."
"Neither lovely lady is married. Not that they would have anything to do with an old bore like me anyway." In an exaggerated whisper Haddington added, "You might be interested to know that Mia is romantically unencumbered. Vanessa is, sadly, quite taken."
Despite Haddington's statement, he could still be involved with one of his employees -- or both. Will had seen too much over the years to dismiss any possibility. If Vanessa Sharpton had a boyfriend, he'd need investigating as well.
"Any more questions, then?" Haddington asked. "Or are you done for the night?"
"I've soaked up enough information for today. I'll be back tomorrow with lots of questions, though."
After collecting his briefcase, Will nodded at Mia -- and he could feel her gaze on him until the door shut behind him.
Outside, in the crisp evening air, he let out a long sigh, feeling the tension in his shoulders finally ease. Mia's presence put his cover at risk, but she'd also handed him a tailor-made role. All he had to do was slip into it and play it through to the end.
If she was guilty, he'd do the job he'd come here to do, personal feelings aside. If she was innocent, there'd be no harm. Maybe her feelings would be hurt when he suddenly disappeared, but she'd get over it.
"Karma," Will muttered, getting into his car. "And payback's a bitch, baby."