Chapter 4 - The Secret Inside the Painting
I stared at the document.
“No.”
“Elena—”
“My father wasn't a criminal.”
Kalin remained quiet.
I shoved the folder away.
“He taught kids. He volunteered at museums.”
“That may be why they recruited him.”
“You don't know that.”
“No.”
That stopped me.
Kalin didn't pretend certainty.
He continued.
“But we know several stolen paintings passed through organizations connected to him.”
I looked at the photographs again.
“Why would Rossi care about this particular painting?”
“We don't know.”
I suddenly remembered something.
“The back.”
Kalin frowned.
“What?”
“When I removed the old backing material, there was a second canvas layer.”
“You told anyone?”
“My supervisor.”
Kalin grabbed his phone.
“Russo. Gallery. Now.”
---
We arrived twenty minutes later.
The gallery was dark.
The rear door was open.
Kalin immediately pushed me behind him.
His guards entered first.
My restoration room had been destroyed.
Cabinets overturned.
Tools scattered.
Frames smashed.
But the painting remained on the table.
I rushed toward it.
Kalin caught my arm.
“Wait.”
“I know this room.”
“That doesn't make it safe.”
His men cleared it.
Then he released me.
I examined the painting.
“They cut the backing.”
Behind the original canvas was a thin envelope.
Someone had almost reached it.
I carefully pulled it free.
Inside was a handwritten ledger.
Names.
Dates.
Numbers.
And photographs of missing artworks.
Kalin read over my shoulder.
“Your father kept records.”
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“What?”
“My father hated computers.”
“So?”
“If he wanted to hide something permanently, he wouldn't keep it in a bank or computer.”
I looked at the painting.
“He'd hide it somewhere nobody would destroy.”
Kalin understood.
“Artwork.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Kalin said, “Don't.”
I answered anyway.
“Hello?”
A man's voice spoke.
“Elena Parker.”
Kalin moved closer.
“Who is this?”
“Your father stole something from us.”
“My father is dead.”
“Then his debt belongs to you.”
Kalin held out his hand.
I put the phone on speaker.
The voice continued.
“Bring the ledger tomorrow night.”
Kalin spoke.
“She won't be bringing anything.”
Silence.
Then:
“Kovatch.”
Kalin's face hardened.
“You've made a mistake, Rossi.”
The man laughed.
“No. You have. You've become attached.”
Kalin's eyes met mine.
The call ended.
Neither of us spoke.
Finally I asked:
“Are you?”
“What?”
“Attached?”
Russo suddenly became fascinated by the opposite wall.
Kalin stepped closer.
“This isn't the time.”
“That's not an answer.”
“No.”
My stomach sank.
Then he continued.
“It's worse.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means three weeks ago you were the woman downstairs who complained about my pacing.”
His voice lowered.
“Now somebody threatens you, and I start thinking about burning down half the city.”
“Kalin.”
“I know what I am, Elena.”
His eyes stayed on mine.
“I know you should stay away from me.”
“Then why did you buy my building?”
“Because staying away stopped being an option.”
I swallowed.
Before I could answer, Russo's phone rang.
He listened.
His expression changed.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We've got a problem.”
He looked at me.
May you like
“They took her supervisor.”
---
