Page 31 of The Scarab's Game

“He wasn’t wrong.” How she still had so much faith in Noah was beyond me. “You’re sending Jayce in tonight?”

And just like that—when the topic switched to her potential mistakes instead of mine—we returned to the professional discussion.

“That’s the plan.” Sensing the conversation was nearly over, I drifted toward the door. “What about the painting?”

“Wheatfield from the Lockis in their inventory. It’s marked as going to auction on the weekend, but it doesn’t have anindicator about being cleaned. A few other paintings have notes about that.”

Maybe the difference was because it was being cleaned in-house. But suggesting that might sound suspicious to any cameras in the room. “Solid provenance?”

“Massimo De Rosa bought it legally at an estate sale, but a section of the sale history from about fifty years ago isn’t sitting right with me. I’ll touch base with the Ferraros and see if we can coordinate on that angle—maybe run a few other pieces through some stolen art databases.”

“Excellent idea.” I put a hand on the door. “Anything else before I go?”

“She has a boyfriend, Em. He’s an ass, but she’s taken. Don’t forget that.” Scarlett clicked off, and I stared at the phone momentarily before shoving it into my pocket.

Then made my way downstairs to Jean-Philippe and the guest pass.

Chapter 12

Emmett

Behind the keycard-protected door,a short hallway provided access to two restrooms, plus a break room at the end. The latter included a kitchenette with shelves and racks for hanging personal items. Off that room was a small storage area with cleaning supplies.

The public restroom was likely far nicer, but it wasn’t close enough to the secure storage for my signal jammer.

I ducked into the first room and locked the door behind me.

Jean-Philippe might have told me the truth, and they’d sold the scarab. But his refusal to provide details—even when I asked again after my phone call with Scarlett—and the fact it was missing from the inventory didn’t add up.

So, where could I hide the jammer in preparation for Jayce’s recon tonight? It was the size of my palm, disguised as a container of mints with a fake lid that wouldn’t open. A magnet on its back would hold it in place if there were any appropriate metal surfaces. But the sink was marble, attached to the wall with a single shelf underneath. Over it, a slim-profile mirror with a gilt frame. A low-profile toilet completed the room. Next to the standing toilet paper holder, a wall panel controlled the bidet functions.

Without any lower cupboards or a skirt around the sink, the only hiding spot was behind the small waste bin in the corner. But a cleaner would easily find it, then either throw it out with the trash or alert someone to our work.

The ceiling was plaster, as I’d have expected in such an old building, so the ceiling was out, too.

Okay, Plan A didn’t work.

Plan B? I’d peeked into the other restroom, which was exactly like the one I was in. No options there, either. Could I place it in the break room? It didn’t have a locked door, so I’d have to be fast in case someone came in. But was it too far from the storage room door or the cameras?

I pulled out my phone and texted Brie:Range on the device? I don’t have a lot of options close to the security panel.

She immediately replied:50 ft. Steel walls will reduce that a bit.

I sent her a thumbs-up emoji. Hiding it in the break room would be risky, but it was the best option.

As my hand landed on the door handle to leave, I heard another door open and close nearby—the keycard-protected door. Someone—more than one someone—walked toward the restroom.

If they went to the break room, my opportunity to set the jammer was gone unless they were in and out.

“The truck will be here at midnight.” The first voice was soft but masculine, speaking English with a light Scottish accent. Definitely not one of the gallery staff I’d met. “We’ve prepped the pieces for the yacht and still have to finish with the auction items.”

“Bene.”

Ice shot up and down my veins, and my head grew light. My knees wobbled, and I rolled away from the door, hand against the wall to keep myself upright.

I knew that voice.

I’d know it anywhere.