“Hey there.” As she extended her hand to him, he reached for her, pulling her into a hug. Her body recoiled at his touch.
The vision slammed into her. A wall of darkness, screams echoed through flashing lights. Before she had a chance to process it, a strong hand clamped around her waist, tugging her from his arms.
As if someone had pulled her from drowning in the deep sea, she gasped for air. Specks of light danced in her eyes, and she blinked repeatedly, attempting to regain focus.
“Waverly. Are you okay?” Viktor asked.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” she insisted. “Sorry.”
“Hey, what’s going on here? Let her go,” Adam demanded.
“Stand down,” Greyson growled, putting himself between them.
“Waverly gets lightheaded from time to time,” Viktor lied. “We’re headed out soon, so if we could make way and get things done.”
“Sorry, yes, he’s right,” she managed, regaining her balance. What the fuck just happened? “You see, um, I’ve had this ear infection. It has me a bit off balance. I’ve been taking antibiotics, but you know how it is. Takes a few days to kick in.”
“Who are all these people?” Adam asked, his voice terse.
“I’m terribly sorry,” Waverly apologized. “Adam. This is Viktor. He’s, um, he’s the owner of an original piece of art that was donated to my museum. A Monet. You see, he’s been helping me with another donation that recently came in. He knows about the fleam. This is his brother Greyson and his, um, his nephew. They’re in town. We, uh, we’ve had a few stops.”
“I don’t know—” Adam began.
“Is it okay if they come with us? Inside the vault?” she asked, her tone sweet as honey. “I promise they won’t disturb anything.”
An unconvincing half smile on Adam’s otherwise expressionless face told her he wasn’t happy that she hadn’t arrived alone.
“I suppose so,” he begrudgingly agreed. “You’ll have to register with the guards before you enter. I’ve arranged to transfer the item to your possession.”
“I’m glad it’s not on exhibition,” she offered with a cheerful smile.
“It’s virtually unused due to the nature of its condition. Doesn’t make an especially huge impression without the actual fleam.” Adam walked toward the entrance, glaring at Viktor who protectively stood next to Waverly. “I need a minute.”
“Of course.” While Adam tapped at the biometric keypad and slid his palm over the sensor, Waverly looked to Viktor. Be Nice.
I’m always nice. What’d you see?
Nothing, Waverly lied.
You’re earning yourself a spanking, pet.
Is that a threat or a promise? She winked at him.
Later, my kinky little minx.
I didn’t see much but a black wall. He’s hiding something though. I know it.
Viktor nodded in understanding.
“This way.” Adam waved them through the entrance and proceeded down a long hallway.
As they followed him, going deeper into the tunnel, Waverly took note of the security cameras lining its bland white walls. Her stomach tightened into a knot. Although Adam appeared to take care of every detail, allowing them into the facility, instinct warned her something was off.
Adam slowed as he came to a large stainless-steel door. He pressed his palm to the security reader and a loud beep reverberated throughout the hallway.
Waverly nervously tapped her thigh and gave a brief look to Viktor as the door slid open. He nodded, cool and on alert.
“It’s back here,” Adam pointed. “Check out the paintings. So many don’t get floor time.”
Waverly followed him inside the sterile area, her stomach tight with anxiety.
“I’ve never been in such an interesting storage facility,” she commented, running her finger over the edge of one of the racks. She tugged at the edge, sliding it out an inch. “Andrew Wyeth.”
“Yeah, we just got a few on loan. They’re slated to go up next week.”
“Nice.” Waverly gave a side glance to Viktor as Adam continued to walk into the tunnel.
“What’s the deal with the storage?” Rafe asked.
“Most museums don’t have room for all their artifacts on site. We have a little bit of onsite storage in San Diego, but like this one, we also have a few secret offsite facilities. It’s pretty common. I’ve never seen one like this, though, one that’s using actual underground tunnels, but then again, every museum is different.”
“I have the fleam handle right here. It’s unorthodox to make the transfer like this but luckily for you, you have friends in high places.” He flashed Waverly a smile.
Waverly’s senses went on alert, as he held a small box up in the air. She bit her lip as he set it onto an artifact table and lifted the lid. Adam donned a pair of white gloves and reached inside the container. She held her breath as he retrieved the dark acacia handle.
“Go on. Put on some gloves.” He looked to a container on a side table. “Over there.”
Waverly did as she was told and reached for the object. She didn’t usually read objects, but as he placed it into her gloved hands, the wooden item tingled.
“Wow. I can’t thank you enough for this. By any chance, was there a matching case catalogued with the fleam?” she asked, concealing the uncomfortable sensation that crept up her arms.
“I have a call into a museum in Philadelphia. They may have the matching case. I left a message with a friend of mine. As soon as I find out, I’ll let you know.” He stared at Waverly as she inspected it. “I have to admit. This was kind of anticlimactic. Is there something specific you were expecting?”
“Does it have initials?” Greyson inquired, his voice brusque.
“I believe it does,” Adam replied. “There’s not much with the paperwork. Looks like it came to the museum through an anonymous donor who claims to have gotten it at a yard sale.”
Waverly slowly rotated it under the light. Her heart pounded in her chest as she located the letters. B.A.O. “Viktor. Right here.”
“Very good.” Viktor’s expression remained unflappable, feigning indifference. “Is there anything else? We have to catch that flight.”
“Adam, do you have the papers?” she asked as she carefully placed the fleam back into the box. “We need to show chain of ownership.”
“Yes, there are some original sale papers in there,” He pointed to an envelope in the container. “But it’s all documented in detail online. It should all transfer once you approve your acceptance. If you wouldn’t mind…I already sent it to you.”
“Of course.” Waverly pulled out her cell phone, accessing her museum’s secure system and quickly reviewed the documentation. “There. Approved.” She sighed. “I don’t know how to thank you for this, Adam. I thought it was a longshot when I posted.”
He shrugged and checked his phone. “Glad to be of help. Hopefully you can find the matching case. You know how it is with antiques though.”
“Yeah.” She nodded.
“About those initials. B.A.O. Wonder if it was a physician? Strange the fleam and handle got separated.” He pinned her with a stare.