Page 45 of Trailer Park Billionaire
Helena just huffs through her nose once and chuckles. “I haven’t met many criminals who ‘resent accusations wholeheartedly’, which reminds me: where has your accent gone? Didn’t you have a thick Russian accent when we met?”
Alex shrugs, then says coyly, “I put that on to intimidate people I don’t know. My Russian grandpa taught me.”
Helena nods once. “Yeah, well, I’ve been around criminals half my life. Usually they don’t play theater or kidnap people like they do in the cartoons. They just punch you in the face.”
Is that what happened to her?
What sort of criminals would someone as straight-edge as Helena Beck be tangled up with?
She continues, “I know when someone is capable of committing violent crimes. You two are oversized teddy bears who couldn’t even steal candy from a baby.”
In response, Alex quickly snatches the bag of poffertjes from Helena’s hands, before huffing back at her defiantly.
Unimpressed, she goes on, “Which leaves us with option number three: you let me in on the job. I’ll help you come up with a better plan that’ll keep the police off our backs.”
“No,” Alex answers flat-out, without justification.
I don’t dismiss the idea quite so fast.
In fact, I can’t help but think this might actually be a good thing. Her figuring things out—getting involved—might be the cleanest outcome I could’ve hoped for.
Because the truth is, I had a slightly different plan ever since I found out who she really is. One I couldn’t share with Alex, because I knew exactly what he’d say: that it’s too dangerous, that I’m getting reckless, that I’m being blinded by my emotions.
But this might be it.
A once in a lifetime opportunity to stealthepainting.
And now,sheis standing here, practically volunteering to help.
With her access and her skills, we won’t need to cause any distractions, we won’t need to break any doors or windows, or draw any unnecessary attention. She gets us in. She gets us out. And—probably the best thing about this—she can make it so no one will notice what even happened.
“You already have a plan, don’t you?” I ask, hoping that we’re having the same idea.
She leans forward, resting her elbows on the table and her chin on her rainbow-speckled hands. “We forge. Well, I forge. You two handle logistics and sales. We replace the real painting in the museum archives with a forgery that I’ll create. Unless someone takes a really close look, or your buyer makes an anonymous tip for that extra thrill, no one will notice. Plus, it would be a free way of authentication.”
Alex makes an uncertain face and thinks about it for a moment. “I don’t like it,” he grumbles.
I rub my jaw, pretending to consider her idea, secretly glad she came to the same conclusion as me. Her forging the painting is exactly what I need to pull this off. “It would eliminate the need to skip town,” I say carefully, trying to steer Alex in the right direction.
“And in return, you’ll give me one hundred grand as payment and hush money. Tax-free. In small, unmarked bills.” Helena steals back the poffertjes. “I guess that last part isn’t strictly necessary, but I’ve always wanted to say it.”
This is odd.
It almost seems like she had been waiting to demand just that.
Why would she ask for that low of a number?
She’s far from rich, but she must earn an okay wage at the museum.
And she’s not the type to sell out for a measly 100k.
Alexei howls with laughter, slamming the table hard enough to shake the cutting board. “See, for a second there,” he says through his laugh, “I thought she had followed you because she was stalking her stalker—when really, she just came here to rob the robbers.” Alex is thoroughly entertained now.
“Deal,” I say—and shut him up mid-laugh.
16
HELENA
