Page 31 of Abra's Acquisition
Cicero jolts before turning to face us. “Oh, you’re still here. I thought you left. Did you leave and come back already?”
Abra smirks. “I haven’t left, but I’m leaving now. Why are you so enthralled with that painting?”
“I recognize this piece,” Cicero says. “Or at least there is something familiar about it. I can’t remember why.”
Abra claps him on the back. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Rey, walk me out?”
I follow him into the elevator. In the garage, he searches through a drawer before pulling out a remote. “This will open the garage door. I’d rather you didn’t leave, but I don’t know how long I’ll be. If it gets too late, you can have Cicero drive you back to the clubhouse. You can also sleep upstairs if you need to rest. Please help yourself to anything I have in the kitchen. Will you be alright here without me?”
“We’ll be fine,” I assure him as I take the remote and study it. When I look at him, he must see the confused expression on my face.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing. It’s just… You trust me with this? Why? We barely know each other.”
“Really? Because I feel like I’ve known you forever,” Abra says, cupping my cheek. “You’re brilliant,” he says, kissing my right eye. “Sexy,” he continues, as he kisses my left. “Strong,” he says, kissing my nose. “Mine,” he says, before devouring my mouth.
I sink into the kiss and relish the experience. When he handed me the remote, I was wary about how quickly he developed such faith in me. We hardly know each other, yet he’s trusting me with access to not only his most prized possessions but also with his freedom. I could easily call my brother and have Abra arrested for all the stolen items in his possession. But I won’t do that. For some reason, Abra knows I won’t do it, either. Maybe I should question his sanity, but then I’d have to question my own. Because I realize that not only does he trust me completely, but I trust him, too.
Abra gives me another quick smack before mounting his bike. He lifts his hand in a wave as he backs out of the garage. I watch him go with my lips still tingling from his kisses. Unable to keep the smile off my face, I enter the elevator. I find Cicero where we left him.
“You’re going to burn a hole in it,” I chide him.
He jerks and swivels to study me. It takes him a few moments to figure out what I said. Then he smirks. “It’s driving me crazy. I recognize this painting, but I can’t place where I’ve seen it.”
“Maybe you saw it on television,” I suggest. “Abra took the painting from the descendant of the man who stole it from the original owners. Abra said he’s something of a slumlord. He sounded like the type of asshole who would go to the press and whine about being a victim.”’
Cicero chuckles. “I know who you mean. No, I don’t think I’ve seen it on television.”
“Did you see it in person? Maybe you saw it before Abra stole it?”
Cicero shakes his head. “No, that’s not it.”
“You’ll figure it out,” I assure him as I grab the journal and notepad so I can get to work. Using the journal, I identify each piece and memorize its appearance, while also familiarizing myself with its history. I take notes as I work through the room. For each piece, I document a plan of attack for identifying the original owner. Once I identify the owner, I can put together a plan for returning the item.
Once I finish my circuit, Cicero is still staring at the painting. I smile at his obsession with the piece. He’s not the only one with an obsession. I move to the pieces that have captured my attention—the jewelry with the sad history. I study the gold and ruby beauties as I think about the poor man who loved his wife so much that he sold them to save her. I’m so engrossed in my thoughts that I startle when Cicero lets out a loud exclamation.
“What?” I ask, bending to pick up the pen I dropped.
“I remembered why this painting feels so familiar. I’ve read about it in a ship's manifest. I can identify the original owners if I can find it.”
“That would be great!” I say, joining him in front of the painting. “Do you know which ship?”
“No, I can’t remember. I need to re-read the manifests, which is why we need to go.”
“We should probably wait for Abra,” I protest.
“No, we need to go now,” Cicero insists. “If I’m remembering correctly, this is information that can’t wait.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: ABRA
When I arrive at the address Hex provided, I find all the Demon Dawgs waiting. They’re parked in the shade of a building and facing the cross street. I pull into the space on the right of Hex.
“What have you got?” I ask.
“Levi followed the woman we identified as Pamela Blake to that house,” Hex says, nodding toward the house third from the corner. “We’ve seen two members of the Brotherhood enter, but no one has come out.”
“You want me to sneak inside and check it out?” I ask. Hex knows that with my skill set, I can easily break into the house and perform recon without anyone inside being the wiser.
