Shane asked.
“I freelance for them now and again, but I opened my own agency not long after
we…met.”
“Met?” Shane grinned sardonically. “You mean after you set about trying to entrap
me.”
Linus’s mouth twisted. “Entrapment is an exaggeration, but I don’t deny I did try to
catch you out. I was operating under the assumption you were guilty.”
Shane made a sound of disbelief.
“I know, but that’s the truth. First impressions can be deceiving. I thought you were
slick, too sure of yourself.”
“I wasn’t slick. I thought I was going to lose my job. I thought I was going to lose
everything I’d worked for.”
“Yeah, but you hid it well. Later I got it. But when we first met…” Linus offered an
apologetic smile.
“What?” Shane asked, torn between irritation and curiosity.
“You kind of put my back up. I enjoyed keeping you guessing. I figured you were
used to everything going your way. Used to getting whatever you wanted.”
“That’s not true.” It stung, because he had been attracted to Norton right off the bat.
Although…if he was absolutely honest, at first he had been entertained and maybe—he
hated to admit it, but it was true—a bit superior. He’d pegged Norton for a very sexy
beach bum.
Linus tilted his head consideringly. “It’s kind of true, Shane. I mistook your certainty
for a sense of entitlement. Initially, I didn’t see how hard you work to make what you
want happen. You’re used to getting results because you give a hundred and ten percent
all the time. Whether you’re charming somebody into bed or climbing out onto a window
ledge after a stolen painting.”
Shane grimaced. “Nice to know you’re following my career.”
“I used to.” There was an odd note in Norton’s tone. Almost bitter. But the moment
was lost as the bartender arrived to take their orders.
Shane stuck with his original theme and went for the buffalo burger. Linus ordered
fish and chips.
When they were on their own again, Linus said, “To return to your earlier comment,
yes, I did make sure you had a steady supply of rope, just in case you were feeling
suicidal.”
“Nice.”
“I’m not in a nice business and neither are you, even if you do run around restoring
artwork to its rightful owners.”
“That’s not all I do.”
“I know. In the long run, what you do is probably more important than investigating
insurance fraud.” Linus studied him. “How did you end up in the hospital?”
“Don’t ask.”
“I am asking. Were you shot?”
Shane shook his head. “I walked into a sword.”
“You…”
“I was stupid. It’s embarrassing.”
Linus stared at him. “What is it with you and swords?”
“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself the same question.”
“What happened?”
“It was your basic takedown. Should have been textbook really.” Shane sighed. “In
1968, a number of valuable swords, including a pair of very rare Toledo rapiers, were
stolen from the Vallejo Naval and Historical Museum—” He met Linus’s gaze. “I’m
stalling, aren’t I?”
“Yep.”
“About three weeks ago, we got word from an undercover source who said a woman
he knew was trying to sell a collection of antique swords. We set up a meet, me going
undercover as the agent for the potential buyer. The woman, Adeline Withers, showed me
photos of the collection, and they looked pretty good. The real deal. So I told her we were
interested. Then we sent copies of the photos around to a number of museums, and sure
enough, we found out we were looking at recovering the Vallejo’s collection.”
Linus was smiling, possibly at Shane who, as usual, was getting caught up in his
enthusiasm for his job. “That’s pretty cool.”
“Yeah, we were excited. We had two more meets and were able to verify that the
swords were authentic. Then another phone call where we settled on the price, which was
1.9 million, and then at last we arranged for the
“I freelance for them now and again, but I opened my own agency not long after
we…met.”
“Met?” Shane grinned sardonically. “You mean after you set about trying to entrap
me.”
Linus’s mouth twisted. “Entrapment is an exaggeration, but I don’t deny I did try to
catch you out. I was operating under the assumption you were guilty.”
Shane made a sound of disbelief.
“I know, but that’s the truth. First impressions can be deceiving. I thought you were
slick, too sure of yourself.”
“I wasn’t slick. I thought I was going to lose my job. I thought I was going to lose
everything I’d worked for.”
“Yeah, but you hid it well. Later I got it. But when we first met…” Linus offered an
apologetic smile.
“What?” Shane asked, torn between irritation and curiosity.
“You kind of put my back up. I enjoyed keeping you guessing. I figured you were
used to everything going your way. Used to getting whatever you wanted.”
“That’s not true.” It stung, because he had been attracted to Norton right off the bat.
Although…if he was absolutely honest, at first he had been entertained and maybe—he
hated to admit it, but it was true—a bit superior. He’d pegged Norton for a very sexy
beach bum.
Linus tilted his head consideringly. “It’s kind of true, Shane. I mistook your certainty
for a sense of entitlement. Initially, I didn’t see how hard you work to make what you
want happen. You’re used to getting results because you give a hundred and ten percent
all the time. Whether you’re charming somebody into bed or climbing out onto a window
ledge after a stolen painting.”
Shane grimaced. “Nice to know you’re following my career.”
“I used to.” There was an odd note in Norton’s tone. Almost bitter. But the moment
was lost as the bartender arrived to take their orders.
Shane stuck with his original theme and went for the buffalo burger. Linus ordered
fish and chips.
When they were on their own again, Linus said, “To return to your earlier comment,
yes, I did make sure you had a steady supply of rope, just in case you were feeling
suicidal.”
“Nice.”
“I’m not in a nice business and neither are you, even if you do run around restoring
artwork to its rightful owners.”
“That’s not all I do.”
“I know. In the long run, what you do is probably more important than investigating
insurance fraud.” Linus studied him. “How did you end up in the hospital?”
“Don’t ask.”
“I am asking. Were you shot?”
Shane shook his head. “I walked into a sword.”
“You…”
“I was stupid. It’s embarrassing.”
Linus stared at him. “What is it with you and swords?”
“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself the same question.”
“What happened?”
“It was your basic takedown. Should have been textbook really.” Shane sighed. “In
1968, a number of valuable swords, including a pair of very rare Toledo rapiers, were
stolen from the Vallejo Naval and Historical Museum—” He met Linus’s gaze. “I’m
stalling, aren’t I?”
“Yep.”
“About three weeks ago, we got word from an undercover source who said a woman
he knew was trying to sell a collection of antique swords. We set up a meet, me going
undercover as the agent for the potential buyer. The woman, Adeline Withers, showed me
photos of the collection, and they looked pretty good. The real deal. So I told her we were
interested. Then we sent copies of the photos around to a number of museums, and sure
enough, we found out we were looking at recovering the Vallejo’s collection.”
Linus was smiling, possibly at Shane who, as usual, was getting caught up in his
enthusiasm for his job. “That’s pretty cool.”
“Yeah, we were excited. We had two more meets and were able to verify that the
swords were authentic. Then another phone call where we settled on the price, which was
1.9 million, and then at last we arranged for the
Similar Books
