Читать книгу In Pursuit of a Princess - Lenora Worth - Страница 12

THREE

Gabriel knew something was wrong the minute he rounded the corner the next morning. He’d taken the streetcar to RWN magazine and then walked the rest of the way to the Kincade estate since it was such a gorgeous spring day.

But that notion ended when he saw two NOPD cruisers parked inside the gated driveway and a whole passel of reporters and onlookers stationed outside the closed gate. Pulling out the smaller of his two cameras and his phone, he dialed Deidre’s cell so she could open the gate for him. He held the phone to one ear, clicked away and got some one-handed shots of the cruisers and the growing crowd at the gate.

But Deidre didn’t answer. A male voice greeted him. “Hello?”

“Uh, I was looking for Deidre Wilder. I’m Gabriel Murdock. I have an appointment with Princess Lara this morning.”

“Hold on.” He heard shuffling and voices. “You’re clear. Someone will come and escort you inside.”

“Uh, thanks.”

Gabriel shifted his equipment pack and bypassed the other photographers gathered beyond the gate, then waited where he could see the entryway. When a uniformed officer came out and punched in the code for the walk-through gate next to the driveway, there was a rush of people behind Gabriel.

The officer held up his hand. “Sorry, no one else allowed. This man has special clearance.”

Moans and groans and foul language ensued behind Gabriel, followed by desperate questions: “Was anything stolen last night? Is the princess safe in New Orleans? Why are you here? Was anyone arrested? Will the princess make a statement to the press?”

Gathering that there had been a break-in attempt last night, Gabriel hurried through the gate and didn’t look back at the agitated crowd. He’d been in worse jams. And he did have an official pass, which he flashed at the officer just for good measure.

But getting special treatment had stirred up the paparazzi. He’d probably hear about this in the news later.

“What happened?” he asked the stoic officer, hoping to verify what he’d heard from the reporters at the gate.

“An intruder last night.”

And that would be all he’d get from that one. “Thanks.”

He made his way behind the policeman into the side entrance, where a small porch was tucked behind a heavy canopy of banana fronds. This entryway led to the mudroom and kitchen.

And that was where he found Lara sitting with Deidre.

“Good morning,” he said, glancing around at the guards and police officers. “Brunch?”

Lara got up, her expression as serene as ever, her hair back in its chignon, her light blue linen pantsuit not daring to wrinkle. “We had a scare last night. Deidre saw someone on one of the upstairs balconies, out by her window.” She glanced around, then lowered her voice. “He left another package.”

Not good news. “What was in the package?”

She shrugged, gathered her arms against her stomach. “It’s another oddity.” Motioning toward the breakfast table, she walked him over. “Sit down and I’ll get you some coffee and explain.”

Deidre, looking drawn and unkempt, jumped up. “Let me do that, ma’am.”

Lara nodded, then sank into a cushioned chair. Gabriel sat down across from her. In the bright sunlight coming through the wall-to-wall bay windows that gave a full view of the back garden, she looked tired and...lost. Still lovely, but at least now he knew she was fairly normal. Wasn’t everyone tired and lost anyway?

“The box, Lara?”

She sent a quick glance toward the swarm of men roaming up and down the stairs. “We can’t go up to see it. They’re taking photos and logging it as evidence. And they don’t want us to disturb the scene—which really is only the balcony and the package.”

“So the package is still where someone found it?”

“I saw it after I heard Deidre screaming. It was left on the balcony outside her room.”

She waited until Deidre brought him coffee and a plate with muffins and cheese. The fidgety girl took her own dishes to the sink and busied herself with cleaning the kitchen. Lara continued, “It’s a replica of one of the art pieces I showed you last night. The Benoit.” She stopped, shook her head.

“But?”

She blinked, looked away to the right. “But it’s not really the same portrait. I know it looks familiar but I can’t place it. It’s as if someone is trying to copy the Benoit’s style.”

Gabriel’s instincts kicked in and he got that coiling knot inside his stomach, the knot he always got when he was onto something no one had been expecting. “Did anyone else see this intruder?”

“No. Deidre saw a shadow. The person ran when she screamed.”

“Do you know if Deidre talked to Herbert about the first package?”

Looking surprised, she shook her head. “Deidre mentioned that this morning, but no. He didn’t answer her calls or messages.”

Deidre had brought her the first package last night. No one else had seen that one delivered. And Deidre hadn’t been able to get in touch with the chef last night to see what he might know.

Now Deidre had seen an intruder who’d conveniently left yet another package near her room? Coincidence or carefully planned attack?

Gabriel didn’t believe in coincidences.

No wonder the girl scurried and jumped like a squirrel. She was obviously in on this gig. But why?

“So this replica—what is it? What’s it about?”

Lara leaned forward. “It’s another Arcadian dream. A group of Arcadians gathered by a large boat. The boat is sailing away through clouds and cherubs. Shepherds are watching from the sky. It’s a sad portrait of the hardship the Arcadians had to endure, wrapped inside a beautiful dream.”

He nodded. “Yes. So someone obviously knows you own a Benoit. And that it’s worth close to a million dollars.”

She lifted her chin in acknowledgment. “Yes. This one reminds me of that. Same technique, same dreamlike Arcadia backdrop with the Louisiana Arcadians featured. A pretty good representation but—”

“But what?” Gabriel felt the hairs on the back of his neck rising. A sure sign that this was bigger than just following around a princess. Suddenly, he had a real story going. But this wasn’t supposed to be complicated. He wasn’t ready for complicated again. Not yet.

“Oh, my.” She got up, paced the floor, cast several covert glances over her shoulder.

He followed her. “Lara, tell me so I can help.”

“Back in the early sixties, it was discovered that there was a set of three Benoit paintings in a quaint little museum in the Quarter. No one knew the value, not even the museum curator. A patron discovered them and he and the curator quietly called in an art expert to appraise them. But word got out and everyone wanted to own them. Or take them. The one on my parlor wall was hidden away, but someone stole the other two before the appraisal—and murdered the museum curator. Years later, after hearing the story, an associate of Theo’s bid on his behalf for the remaining Benoit at a private auction and paid a hefty price for it.

“Theo told me this story when he presented the painting to me. But no one has ever found the two missing paintings, so some think that was just a hoax to bring attention to the one I own. But if there are two more paintings out there, they now have an estimated worth of over a million dollars each.”

Gabriel did a low whistle. “So all three together...”

She let out a breath. “Could be worth close to three or four million at the least.” She did the hand-to-the-chin pose. “Theo often talked about finding the other two. He even described them, based on some research he’d found on some old catalog notes from the original museum. And now that I think about it, the smaller rendition found on the balcony fits one of the descriptions he told me about. That’s why it seemed so familiar.”

Gabriel was beginning to see the whole picture. “And if someone has the other two and wants the one here, they could make a pretty penny on resale alone. Or possibly, they don’t have any of the paintings, but think you have all three. Either way, if they get their hands on all three, they could become wealthy in a big way. They’d sell cheap, however, to stay under the radar. The price wouldn’t be in the millions, but they could quite possibly ask for an easy three-hundred K.”

“But I don’t have the other two.”

Gabriel put his hands on her arms. “No, but they might be after the one you do have in order to own the whole set. And they might be trying to scare you away long enough to get in here and take it.”

“Or kill me and do whatever they want with all the art I’ve collected for the fundraiser.”

“How many pieces are planned for the upcoming reception and silent auction?”

She tilted her head. “The Benoit—that’s the main attraction, but of course, it’s for display only. Two sculpture pieces worth several thousand dollars and one of Esther’s that has been rising in value since her notoriety with the Levi-Lafitte Diamond and two more smaller paintings—a Van Gogh sketch and one of a Tahitian landscape, both valued at a quarter of a million.”

“Where are they stored?”

She gave him a thoughtful look, as if she was sizing him up. “In a Mardi Gras Krewe warehouse over in Algiers. But no one except my immediate staff knows that. They will be transported to the auction venue on the day of the event.”

“Which is?”

“Two weeks from now.”

“And you obviously have an alarm system to protect these masterpieces?”

“Of course. We have one at the warehouse and one here. It’s very discreet, but we had that installed when we moved in, after Theo gave me the Benoit. He also brought over some of his own treasured pieces. Between that and the guards, and now the police, I should think the Benoit is safe here until we get ready to move it. The sensor will go off if anyone dares touch the painting.”

“Nothing is ever really safe, Princess. Not when it involves money.”

“Not even me?”

“Especially not even you. You might be more valuable than you realize.” Dead or alive, he thought to himself.

She tilted her head again. “I’m only as valuable as the next public appearance or fundraiser. And now apparently because of my penchant for fine art.”

He stared down at her, amazed at how calm she seemed. “I think you should call off the fundraiser gala.”

“No,” she said. “I won’t allow whoever this is to scare me away. I’ll tell Malcolm to put extra security at the warehouse and here. Making money on art is one thing, but leaving this city in need is not on my agenda.”

“Even if your life is threatened?”

“I have security, and if this is the case, they will be alert and ready. Malcolm will bring in more people at the actual event, of course.”

Gabriel didn’t want to add to her burden, but he had to ask. “And what if someone close to you is in on this? Most art crimes occur because of an inside informant, someone who helps the thieves, makes things easy for them.”

She shook her head, but Gabriel caught a hint of apprehension in her eyes. “The Benoit is still here, and if anyone touches it, alarms will go off everywhere. I’m safe for now. I trust my entire team.”

“But that man last night made it all the way to an upstairs balcony. And no one heard or saw him until he’d almost entered the house.”

“Deidre is a light sleeper, thankfully.”

“What woke her?”

“She said she heard a noise out on the balcony. I’m sure the authorities have grilled her thoroughly. The poor girl was scared and confused, but she can’t go back to bed until they clear out of her room.”

“And you can’t be safe here. You need to think about that.”

Her eyes took on that princess mode. “As I told you, the Benoit will be protected and so will I. I won’t run from these people. I intend to see this through.”

Gabriel wondered about that and the staunch determination in her eyes. He turned to see what Deidre was doing, but the woman, usually so bustling and hyper he could hear her coming a mile away, had slipped unnoticed out of the kitchen. “You need to be completely sure about that, Princess.”

* * *

An hour later, Lara stood staring up at the Benoit, her thoughts a jumble of confusion that made her appreciate the dream aspects of the painting. Or rather, the lost dream that seemed to hang like a veiled curtain over the smiling, dancing people in the center.

When would her life ever settle down to a routine that might bring her a bit of contentment and harmony? After the gala, she reminded herself, her nerves jingling their own warning. The Benoit was the draw. Or at least she was counting on that.

Her cell rang. “Hello?”

A deep breathing. Well, that was original.

“Hello?” she repeated.

The connection went cold. And so did her heart. Him again? Did he think he’d win her over by breathing into the phone?

“Another wrong number?”

She whirled to find Gabriel standing just inside the door.

“You startled me. I thought you were with Malcolm.”

“We finished our discussion and I was allowed to get a couple of shots of the print you found. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He advanced into the room and brought the scents of spice and fresh soap with him. “If you’re receiving hang-up calls, you need to let Malcolm and the police know.”

She nodded, put her phone away, pushed her fears aside. “And you are here to watch and observe, not give me security advice.”

“I’m sorry again.” He glanced up at the painting. “But you’re right, of course.”

Lara shook her head. “Forgive me. I’m a little rattled. But I have to take this seriously since my entire staff could be in danger. I’d rather lose this painting than have something terrible happen to the people I love.”

“But you’re not willing to cancel this whole event?”

“I can’t at this late date. Too many variables.” And she didn’t know him well enough to explain those variables.

He came to stand beside her, and Lara immediately felt the warmth descending over her like a cloak of protection. “And the people who love you don’t want anything bad to happen to their princess.”

She turned, surprised at the generosity in that statement. “I thought you were cynical about such things.”

His smile was almost sad. “You guessed that about me already?”

“I read up on you. You’ve seen the worst the world has to offer, so I can certainly understand being cynical.”

He glanced at the painting, then back to her. “Ah, but I’ve also seen the best the world has to offer. So in spite of being somewhat cynical, I also have a strong sense of faith.”

“Really?” Lara was touched and surprised by his admission. “I’m relieved to hear that. My faith has guided me through the worst of times, too.”

He turned, his gaze solemn and full of secrets. “You’ll need that in the coming months, too. My gut tells me that these people trying to scare you are just getting started.” Then he leaned close, his hand touching her wrist. “And I’ve come to a decision about that.”

Lara held her breath while she watched the rich liquid brown of his eyes turn deadly serious. “You’re not backing out of your assignment, are you? I didn’t mean to be so rude—”

He got even closer, his mouth so close to her ear she felt her teardrop pearl earring dancing. “Oh, no, Princess, I’ve decided even though this is none of my business I’m staying close by your side until we find out who’s doing this.”

Lara swallowed her fear and shock. “You don’t need to—I mean, that’s not necessary. I have protection.”

“I’m not a security expert, but I’m good at observing people and I know human nature. I’ll be watching for anyone out of the ordinary.”

She glanced over at him then. “Are you implying that you truly believe what you stated earlier? That someone on my security detail or within my household could be involved in this?”

He whirled her around to face him. “I’m not implying, Lara. I’m pretty sure that Deidre planted both of those packages. Your assistant is trying to terrorize you. And me, being the curious-reporter type, well, I intend to catch her in the act next time she makes a move. That is, if I can find her.”

Lara wanted to slap him, but the dead-serious look in his dark eyes told her this was no joke. “You only came into my house last night and now you insult me by even suggesting such a thing as Deidre being involved?”

His next words sent a chill through Lara’s heart. “I just checked her room. Now that the police have left and your detail people are back at their duties, I wanted to talk to her alone.”

“And?”

“She’s not there and neither is her laptop or her tote bag. I checked her closet, too. It’s empty. Deidre has apparently left Kincade House.”