“Do you think she realizes that Henry and Delilah Thornhill swindled her yet?”
I thought of watching her through the concealed portrait window, the way her fingers had trembled when she thought no one was looking.
“Yes, I think she does,” I admitted.
Freya eyed me for a second. “Empathy is a complicating emotion when you’re undercover. It’s very, very normal to feel confused.”
I gave her a grateful side-hug but still felt unsettled. We followed Abe into the storage room and watched Henry carefully place the portable glass case into our larger, temperature-controlled safe. Without a word, he stepped back so Abe could drop down to his heels and examine it.
“You’ll do an analysis? I’ve already called Francisco.”
Henry beamed at him like an eager student. “Absolutely. I can confirm authenticity.”
But his smile faltered when he finally had time to read Abe’s obvious displeasure. Henry dared a glance in my direction, but I shook my head discreetly.
“I’d like to speak to both of you in my office now.”
“And me?” Freya asked brightly.
“Go home.”
Her face fell. Call me, she mouthed, before grabbing her things to go.
Henry and I stepped into Abe’s office like bad kids about to be reprimanded by the principal. Abe closed the door, cleared his throat briskly. Leaned against his desk with legs crossed in front of him.
“What were your orders this evening?”
So this was how it was going to be.
“Abe, we just returned a book worth five million dollars—”
“What were your orders this evening?”
I let out a long exhale. Disobeying orders wasn’t my forte, but I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t been convinced it was the right thing to do. “Case the property. Take pictures. Do not identify ourselves as Codex agents. Do not put ourselves at risk. Call the police.”
“And what did you do instead?”
I crossed my arms. “Henry and I, as partners, made the call to go after it. Henry had recalled this memory, from Bernard, that led us to these secret hallways. And I had this feeling it was there the entire time. We both worried that if we didn’t take quick action the book would have been lost forever.”
I tilted my chin—keenly aware that, as a former police officer and now private detective—I was arguing that a flimsy memory and a feeling was the reason why I disobeyed express orders.
Abe knew it too. He glared at me until I shifted noisily in my chair.
“I run Codex like a tight ship because I’ve seen firsthand what happens when a small team doesn’t respect one another, doesn’t respect each other’s safety. Disregards professional boundaries or goes off-script. Of course I’m thrilled and…” Abe’s throat worked. “And proud that you recovered the Copernicus.”
My chest pinched at his rare show of emotion.
“But I was also worried.” Abe smoothed his tie down, avoiding our eyes. “Very fucking worried.”
I deflated like a popped beach ball. “Oh, Abe.”
“Your plan only seems flawless now because the recovery was successful. But if it hadn’t been, or either of you had gotten hurt in the process, you would understand how reckless it was.” Abe leaned forward—and this next part was directed at me. “The rules are different for private detectives, Delilah. We’re not FBI or police anymore. If we do the things we used to, it’s illegal. And even if you and I struggle with that, it’s the goddamn truth.”
“I know why you’re mad,” I pleaded. “But the book is back.”
“Yes,” he said. “The book we were paid to find by one of the most high-profile museums in the country, in the highest profile exhibit this year.”
“Not finding it could have ruined Codex’s reputation. Francisco threatened as much,” I argued.
“You and Henry getting into a gunfight in the middle of Victoria Whitney’s party could have ruined our reputation. And almost did.”
I felt, rather than saw, Henry slump in his seat.
“Do the two of you want to continue working at Codex?”
We both said “of course” immediately.
“Good,” Abe continued. “Because I’d very much like the two of you to stay. But believe me when I say that if you do anything to betray my trust again, I will fire you.”
It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on my head.
Abe scrubbed a hand down his face. “I’m going home. I need you both to go home. And I need to think about how we’re all going to keep working together in the future.”
This time I did look at Henry. “But you just said we’re not fired.”
“You’re not,” he replied wearily. “But this was a big violation of trust, Delilah. We’re all going to need time.”
Abe scooped up his jacket, escorting us out of his office. We all flipped off the lights robotically, creaking down the stairs in total silence. My heart was lodged in my throat—I was torn between sullen anger at Abe and paralyzing guilt.
Outside, Abe hailed a cab with his jacket over his shoulder.
“Listen,” he said, opening the door as a taxi pulled up, “it should go without saying that I’m indescribably pleased that the two of you are safe. Don’t ever put me in that situation again.”
44
Henry
The streets of Old City were still and silent as a graveyard. Delilah and I stood on cobblestones packed with dirt that told a million stories. Horse-drawn carriages had bounced down these streets through open-air markets. The brick row homes surrounding us were hushed—but 250 years ago this would have been a bustling block, embroiled in the American Revolution.
The night had turned on a dime—from sweet victory and passionate limo-sex, to Abe’s anger and disappointment.
We stood beneath the golden circle of a streetlamp, defeat carved into our shoulders.
“Well, I guess someone should file our divorce papers,” Delilah said, breaking the silence. Her expression was unsure, wary.
“I’ll have my lawyer draw something up.”
Delilah ducked her head, but I caught her full grin.
Hope sprang from the curve of those lips.
I took her hand in mine, gently slipped off her fake wedding rings. Removed my gold band, flexing my newly bare fingers.
Then I closed them in her palm. Tapped back into that sense of power and control I’d felt back at Victoria’s mansion, harnessing it into words that were pure and unfiltered. Delilah and I had the ability to turn the page, start fresh with a new chapter. Whatever happened next, I knew that my honesty was the only way forward.
“Can I tell you what I’m noticing?” I asked, like I was back at the McMasters Library, talking to a group of students.
She nodded. I was still holding her closed fist.
“I really love this job,” I said. “And Abe being angry at us makes me feel like shit.”
“Same here. Like total and complete shit.”
I turned over my feelings in my mind. “I still…I still feel proud of what we did, though.”
“Same here,” she echoed. “Very proud. And so happy.”