His smile returned— fewer teeth, though. “That's true, my dear— that's certainly true.”
She folded her arms, Indian-style. “We could, I suppose, arrange a price for the return of those two items. You might be surprised by how reasonable that price might be.”
His eyes tightened; he was clearly intrigued. “Try me.”
She curtailed the intensity, the urgency in her voice. “Just tell me where you got it.”
“Got what, my dear?”
“The Heart of the Ocean. Tell me, and you can have it back… The Grant Wood might require some cash outlay, but… ”
“My dear,” Sterling said. “Surely you understand that a man who deals in the netherworld of art collecting, as I do, must protect not only himself, but his sources. Anyway, why is it any of your concern, where I got that necklace?”
“I
to know,” she said, and this time the intensity bled through.
He considered what she'd said; then he said, “I may strike a bargain with you— but I must protect myself. Again, I must ask— why do you want to know?”
She could think of nothing else to tell him but the truth— so she did: “I'm the one who stole the necklace in the first place, from that museum in LA.”
“… I am impressed.”
“I left the necklace with friends, when I skipped town. Those friends turned up dead, in the meantime— and now the necklace winds up with you. I need to know how that happened.”
He seemed amused. “To avenge your friends,” he said, as if this were a quaint notion.
“Of course to avenge my friends.”
“And this is more important than money?”
“It is to me. Mr. Sterling… Jared— can we do business? Do you want your necklace back?”
“Well, of course I do…
”
The door unlocked and Morales and Maurer stepped into the sitting room. In black suits with ties, the guards wore remembrances of their first meeting with Max: Maurer had two black eyes and a bandage over his broken nose, and Morales sported assorted bruises. They glowered at her.
Sterling's voice turned cold. “Here's my offer: give me back what belongs to me and I won't have you killed.”
“Very generous— but why should I think you'd hold up your end of the bargain?”
He smiled at her, no teeth this time; then said, “Because you have unique abilities, my dear… and I could use someone of your talents on my payroll… Isn't that right, boys?”
But neither Maurer nor Morales expressed an opinion.
“I fly solo,” she said. “As for the rest of your offer… thanks, but no thanks.”
“If you don't return my property, I'll see to it that your death is a prolonged, unpleasant one. If you do return my property, I'll allow you to live. Who knows? You may even change your mind about my employment proposition.”
“I'll pass.”
“My dear, it's the best deal you're going to negotiate. You really should take advantage of my generosity.”
She almost laughed. “You really think you can make all of this fly? I mean, I have kicked the ass of both these guys and more, already.”
With a shrug and an openhanded gesture, Sterling said, “That
true… but we have allies in town now; we've taken on certain… reinforcements… Morales! Fetch our friend, will you?”
Morales nodded and stepped out of the room.
“You should have dealt with me, Max,” Sterling said.
“How the hell do you know my name?” she demanded.
Morales came back in and took up his position to one side of the door, Maurer on the other. Moments later a third man strode in, rather tall, thin, rock-star handsome, wearing a brown leather, knee-length coat over a light blue silk shirt and black leather pants.
Sterling said, “I believe you know my friend Mikhail.”
The Russian's smile was as reptilian as his snakeskin boots. “Enjoying the party, Max?”
She flew to her feet… and felt the weight of a pistol barrel against her ribs.
“Now, now,” Sterling said, on his feet behind her, whispering into her ear, like a lover. “Let's not be rash… ”
Kafelnikov and the two guards were drawing their handguns, as well. She shook her head a little. “I think I already have been… rash.”
“So it would seem.”
Even as the nose of his automatic dug into her ribs, he kissed her neck, and she felt a chill— not a good chill. “Now, my dear,” he said, “I want several things from you… the Heart of the Ocean… the Grant Wood… and one more item… ”
“That's everything,” she said coldly. Her eyes were on the Russian, who was smiling at her, seemingly amused by the hatred she was glaring his way.
“
everything,” Kafelnikov said, and he stepped forward, a few feet from Max. “Tell us about the other one.”
Max frowned. “What?… ”
Sterling whispered lovingly: “Tell us about your partner… the one who broke into my place of business.”
Max felt the blood drain from her face. “Partner?”
Sterling came around alongside her, the nose of the gun making the trip, too. “Don't be coy, dear— it really doesn't suit you…
”
Biting off the words, she said, “I don't know what the hell you're talking about.”
“Morales!” Sterling barked. “Show her.”
The guard stepped forward and handed her another security-cam picture.
This one showed a young man standing in the middle of fallen security guards.
Hope leapt within her, despite her situation.
With his free hand, Sterling snatched the photo from her. “Now, dear— tell us where he is, and what the two of you have done with my property.”
“Don't know the guy,” Max said, with a shrug. “Sorry.”
Kafelnikov laughed harshly. “I've seen you in action, Max… and I've seen the tape of this man, tossing cops around like dolls. If you two are not brother and sister, you at least shared the same teacher.”
Max's eyes narrowed. “What makes you think we're brother and sister?”
The Russian shrugged. “You move the same, you fight the same— you move your hands, your feet, your heads the same. Either you're family or you trained under one master, most likely at the same time. Either way, you know this man. Who is he, and where is he?”
“You want to know this,” Max said to the Russian, “because your business partner here got robbed… or is
