Page 65 of Wicked Intention

“Once an important relic has been identified as being up for sale, I’m expected to examine it and determine whether or not it’s authentic. If it is, I negotiate to buy it.”

“What?”

Zo couldn’t read his tone, but Finn hadn’t pulled away from her. She turned her head far enough to watch his face. His expression was calm. As if they were talking about something innocuous.

“This is a covert arm of the Paladin League,” she explained quietly. “No one who works on the other side of the foundation knows exactly what our group does. It would destroy the organization if this ever came out.”

“Why? What’s the problem?”

“Archaeologists and others view the purchase of stolen antiquities as encouraging the looters to continue,” Zo said slowly. “They’re not wrong, but it isn’t that black and white. The items are already stolen, and if we don’t buy them, someone else will. Do we allow hundreds of irreplaceable cultural relics to disappear into private collections?” She shrugged. “My answer is no. The artifacts are too important to vanish like that.”

“And if this got out?”

Zo slumped back on the bench. “It would be a scandal of epic proportion. Everyone would move at light speed to put distance between their reputations and the Paladin League—archaeologists, donors, those who work on the legit side—and my chance to do anything in the field would be over.”

Finn was quiet for a moment. “What do you do with the relics once you buy them?”

Was that a note of suspicion in his voice? “Other operatives ensure they make their way to museums, preferably in the country from which they were looted to begin with. Some end up on display and some remain under lock and key behind the scenes.”

There was another long silence before Finn asked, “What about context? I thought it mattered in archaeology.”

“It does matter. Unfortunately, the context was lost when the item was stolen from its site.” Zo shook her head. “When I get involved, there are only two outcomes. Either the Paladin League buys the relic and gets it to a museum, or it disappears into some rich bastard’s private collection, and another piece of history disappears forever.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Near San Isidro, Puerto Jardin

Present Day

FINN REACHED his loquita as she staggered back a step. He immediately put his hands at her waist, steadying her as she caught her balance. For all intents and purposes, Tia Izel had been Zo’s mom. Her actual parents were… He pushed the thought aside.

“Why?” Zo’s voice sounded reedy, and she cleared her throat before trying again. “Why would Al take Tia Izel?”

“As a bargaining chip! He thinks he will use her to force you to bring him the disk.” Alvarez’s voice remained heated. “Ramos will not get away with this. We will see to it.”

Fuck. Alvarez was too upset to realize what he’d set in motion, but Finn knew exactly what was going to happen. It was a matter of when, not if. He started running scenarios in his head, trying to work out his options.

“His men came into San Isidro? But he knows it’s off-limits,” Zo said.

“Do not worry, Zofia,” Señor Garcia said. “We will rescue Izel and remind Ramos his actions are not allowed.”

In the past, his threat would have carried some weight. The trio had been part of the presidential brigade, but that was thirty years ago. With two of the men pushing seventy and the third in his eighties, letting them go and rescue Tia Izel without help was a non-starter.

Zo straightened, her muscles regaining their strength. “Al wants me to come. I’ll go, give him what he wants, and bring Tia Izel home. That way, no one’s at risk.”

Except for her. There was no fucking way he’d agree to her carrying out this scheme. His hands tightened at her waist, but before he could voice his displeasure, Alvarez jumped in.

“No, I will not allow this!” the innkeeper said. “Ramos is far too dangerous.”

“I know Al. He babysat me.”

“And that will mean nothing to him,” Garcia said.

“You do not know who Ramos truly is.” Alvarez sounded calmer. “He conceals his genuine nature when he comes to town. He will not deal honorably, and no matter how clever you are, you do not have the experience to negotiate with him.”

“Señor Alvarez is right,” Finn said. She half-turned toward him, and he recognized her expression. “You’re wrong,” he said before she could argue. “The men you meet with for your job are nothing like Ramos.”

“Right. They’re ethical and upright,” Zo said, pivoting to face him. “Absolutely nothing like Al.”

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