Page 29 of The Scarab's Game

I nodded slowly. “Itisstunning.”

He extended a hand at my hesitation, as though to retrieve the tablet and show me additional options.

Once Brie had established a connection, did she need me to keep the phone next to the tablet? Or would a few feet make a difference?

I tapped the image of the ring. “Do you have it on-site so I can see the real thing?”

“It’s with a local goldsmith currently, having the band cleaned.”

My phone buzzed again, this time with a call notification from Eloise—Scarlett’s cover name. That wasn’t the signal I expected from Brie to indicate she’d finished. But Scarlett was at home with her, so they must have been coordinating something.

I dismissed the call and leaned closer. “As I mentioned, a scarab would be perfect—ifit was gold. My client saw one at a charity event in Washington, DC, a couple of months ago.”

Jean-Philippe sat forward again and picked up the tablet, swiping through items as I spoke.

“The organizers told them it came from a gallery in Monaco.”

He nodded, continuing to swipe, not looking up at me. “Wedidhave one, but it’s been sold.”

Sold? Fuck.

“We have a stunning nineteenth-century Fabergé presentation box arriving next month. Do you think they might be interested?”

“Who was it sold to?” The question was too blatant, but the tip that Massimo had it was the cornerstone of our entire trip. However, that tip was two months old.

He flipped the tablet around so I could see the presentation box. “It’s truly exquisite and would be a stunning centerpiece for a new Russian collection.”

My phone buzzed again—another call from Scarlett.

What did this one mean?

We had plans for the stockbroker email. A text from my assistant asking about my flight home would signal she was having problems accessing the digital inventory. And when she finished? That was supposed to be an email from an auction house about a Jackson Pollock sale.

But two phone calls from Scarlett? Not good.

“I apologize.” I dismissed the call again and clasped my hands, portraying my regret. “Can we continue in a few minutes? I need to call her back and, honestly, I need to use your facilities.”

“Of course.” Jean-Philippe stood and gestured to the door. “It’s the door next to the elevator.”

Not where I needed to go.

Collecting my phone, I stood and looked at the door. Looked back at him. And at the door. I wasn’t aiming for full-on disdain, but certainly for a level of minor disgust at using the same restroom everyone else did. “The public one?”

“Why, yes. Our employee facilities are not?—”

“If I’m spending twenty thousand euros on—” The phone buzzed, and I immediately dismissed the call without lookingdown. What was wrong with Scarlett? This was recon, not an op. She didn’t need to be in constant contact with me.

“But of course, Monsieur Stone.” Jean-Philippe bowed his head, curling the tablet against his chest again. “If you’ll follow me to my desk, I can provide you with a guest keycard.”

“I’ll be down once I finish with my phone call. Can I take it here?”

He nodded again and left.

As the door swung shut, my phone rang yet again.

I swiped to answer, wishing there were a button to smash. “What?”

“Rav and I just had a little chat.” Her words came out quickly, showing her frustration. This wasn’t going to be fun.

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