Page 44 of Edge of Whispers

Shudders of horror kept rippling through me at how close I’d come to an unspeakable fate. But why me? I had twelve hundred and seventy-eight bucks in my checking account, after paying my rent. Most of it spoken for with upcoming bills.

After a while, I found myself drifting loose. I was floating in one bubble—and the two policemen talking to Liam in my apartment were in another. Their voices were tinny, faraway, like a radio chattering in another room.

Liam held the string. He could reel me back in to himself if he wanted to. Otherwise, I’d stay right here in my bubble, thanks very much.

The police finally left. Liam and I had declined to go in for medical observation, in the face of strong disapproval from the female officer, but enough was enough. I desperately wanted a little peace and quiet.

Liam sat down next to me and touched my cheek. “Nancy,” he said.

That “please don’t freak out on me” tone made me brace herself. “Yes?”

“Those guys who attacked us. They were trying to?—”

“Kidnap me, yes. I figured out that fun factoid all on my own.”

“No need to snap,” he replied. “You just need to factor that fun factoid into your future plans.”

“Plans?” My voice rose to a squeak. “What plans? You think I’m capable of planning? Someone killed my mother. Then they tried to abduct me. And to murder you while they were at it. I noticed that, too. That knife in his hand. That sucked, Liam.”

“Calm down,” he soothed.

I let out a shaky sigh. “I’m so sorry. I’m scolding you, but you absolutely don’t deserve it. You’re a hero. You saved my ass tonight. Don’t think I’ll forget it.”

“Anytime.” He fished a cat toy out from under his leg, a jointed wooden snake. “How can you keep a cat in a place this cramped?”

The disapproval in his voice stung me a little. “It’s a hell of a lot better than the life she had on the street! She was half-dead when I found her. I spent fifteen hundred dollars getting her sewn back together, plus getting her spayed, and getting all her shots. And I spend a fortune in kitty litter and tender niblets. I think Moxie knows exactly how lucky she is.”

I kept my eyes averted, but the silence that followed was too heavy to bear. When I looked up, Liam had a gleam in his eye. He was trying not to smile.

“What?” I snapped. “You’re giving me that look.”

“I’m just waiting for you to tell me that getting the cat sewn up, spayed and vaccinated was a hard-assed, self-interested business decision,” he said.

I rolled my eyes with a snort. “I liked her,” I said loftily. “You’re bugging me.”

“Get used to it.” He picked up Lucia’s bronze Cellini satyr that had pride of place on the steamer chest that served as my coffee table, turning it carefully in his hands. “Wow, look at that,” he said. “Lucia’s, right? You think this thing is safe here?”

“Probably not, considering what just happened. But is anything safe anywhere?”

“Good point.” He set the thing carefully down. “Probably not.”

“I guess I should put it in a vault,” I said wearily. “It got through the Nazi occupation without getting appropriated. The Conte wrapped it in burlap and buried it in the ashes of the kitchen fireplace. It would be ironic if it got stolen now and traded for crack.”

“The Conte?” Liam’s gaze sharpened. “Lucia’s father hid art from the Nazis?”

“Everything he could. I think they got a lot of it, but— Oh, hey! You don’t know about the letter, do you?”

“What letter?”

“We found an old letter last night, and a photo, in the Fabergé picture frame at Nell’s apartment.” I quickly outlined the contents of the letter to him.

Liam listened, his face impassive. When I finished, he turned again to stare at the Cellini bronze. “I’m thinking that there’s something else that was hidden from the Nazis, like the Cellini satyr was,” he said. “Except that for some reason, it’s still hidden—and the old Conte died before he could tell anyone where it is.”

I bit my lip, trying to breathe evenly through the anxiety that gripped me. “But then why are they attacking me?” My voice quivered again. “I don’t know where this thing is. Or even what it is!”

“They don’t know that,” he said. “And they’ll never believe you if you told them.”

Dark spots swam before my eyes. “Great,” I said. “So it’s the worst of all possible worlds. If this is true, then they’ll never stop. And I’ll never be able to give them what they want.”

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