Finally, he stopped her in front of the Degas. Her breath escaped her in a whoosh and her legs got a bit wobbly. Not just because this would prove her father didn’t steal it, but because she didn’t know if he was the one who’d stolen it in the first place.
Holstrom’s right hand left her wrist and before she could catch her breath again, she felt it on her inner thigh.
There weren’t that many paintings left. As soon as they were out of this room, she would have him on his damn knees.
Just as his hand was inches away from her crotch, she heard Logan.
“Don’t move.”
It wasn’t coming from the earpiece. He was in the room with them.
“Except for that hand of yours,” Logan said. “Unless you don’t mind losing it.”
“What the hell... McCabe?” The hand disappeared from her thigh, but the other was still on her wrist, squeezing hard. Holstrom stared at Logan as if he were seeing a ghost. His gaze swung briefly to her, before returning to Logan. “What are you going to do, shoot me?” he asked. “There are priceless works of art in here.”
“I know a really good art restorer. I’m sure she could do wonders.”
Holstrom grunted, and released her.
She spun around. Logan’s eyes were both wild with fury and so in control it was chilling. “Get out of here, Kensey.”
“We all have to get out of here. But, if he doesn’t cooperate, please shoot him in the knees, using a downward trajectory. That way the paintings will only have minimal damage.”
“What the hell is this?” Holstrom didn’t sound so smug anymore.
“This,” Kensey said, “is where we leave the room.” She let Logan usher Holstrom out, while she walked around until she found the camera snake. It was moving back toward the door, but not on the same side as the Degas. She hoped it had already gotten the right picture, but she couldn’t tell.
Taking a final look around at all the breathtakingly exquisite paintings, she wished she could do something to ensure Holstrom went to jail for this crime against humanity, but she couldn’t. Not now, at least. She picked up the bracelet and put it back on her wrist. The pictures might provide grounds for a warrant, but Holstrom would have moved every last painting before the ink was dry. But she’d known that coming into this mess.
When she joined the men outside the room, Holstrom, hands still up, was glaring at Logan, his face red with fury. “I gave you a goddamned contract, you bastard. For three times what your lousy company is worth.”
“Yeah, about that... I’ve changed my mind,” Logan said calmly. “Kensey, do me a favor. Take this gun. Feel free to shoot him anywhere. The spatter won’t matter out here.”
Holstrom didn’t move a muscle during the transfer, though it felt great to point the weapon at him. But before she could truly enjoy the feeling of power, Logan landed a punch so hard, Holstrom hit the floor like a discarded rag. A second later, Logan pulled him up by his tailored shirt, just to hit him again.
“Logan,” she said, fearing he wasn’t nearly done. “Enough.”
He didn’t look at her. His gaze never left Holstrom’s face as the man struggled to stand up again. Kensey wasn’t sure if Logan had heard her. He looked like nothing could stop him. A frisson ran down her spine. Earlier she’d seen his military side, but this was the warrior. Terrifying and hot as hell.
“Go ahead, rough me up,” Holstrom said, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. “It’ll look good when the police get here and I explain how you broke in and tried to kill me.”
“Sure, let’s call them.” Logan took the gun. “I’m sure they’d enjoy a viewing of your private collection, too.”
Fury settled in Ian’s shrewd eyes. “You honestly think I’d do one day in jail? No judge in this state would deny me bail. As for your precious military, you think they’d let me be put away? They come crawling to me for weapons,” he said, looking at Logan. “You shouldn’t have hooked up with this con artist. Because I’m going to make sure there isn’t one person on earth who will fund your pet project. I won’t quit until you’re homeless. You understand me?”
Logan’s smile turned predatory. Dangerous. “No matter what, you won’t come out of this smelling like a rose, Holstrom. I promise you that. The stolen artwork aside, you assaulted Kensey.”
“As if anyone would take her word over mine.”
“They don’t have to. We’ve got everything on tape. Can you imagine, Kensey, what all his customers would think if the details were leaked? I bet he wouldn’t be getting any more humanitarian awards. In fact, you know what? I’d love to have an extra souvenir.” He reached with his free hand into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “Why don’t you go take a picture? I don’t care what painting it is. You choose. We’ll wait here.”
She didn’t think twice, just took his phone.
“Hold up,” Logan said before she took another step. “I think I’d like me and my buddy to be in the shot. Just a small insurance—I meant to say memento of our visit.” He grabbed Holstrom by the collar. “What do you say, Ian?”
“Fuck you.”
“Logan?” Kensey didn’t give a damn that she heard Holstrom’s shirt tear but it was risky to go near the art again. “Let’s not—”
Logan’s warning look silenced her.
She moved aside, then followed him to the back of the room where she watched him position Holstrom next to the Degas. Then Logan pulled something out of his back pocket. He unfolded the front page of today’s paper and held it up in front of him.
He gave her a nod. “Okay, Ian, say cheese.”
She took the shot, the scope of Logan’s cleverness slowly sinking into her poor muddled brain. The picture, establishing today’s date, probably wouldn’t stand up in court, but there was a good chance it could be used to clear her father. Her hands shook a bit, so she snapped a second shot for good measure.
As soon as they were out of the room again, she put his phone back into his pocket.
“Well, guess we’d better be going,” he said. “Not that we haven’t enjoyed your hospitality.”
Holstrom looked at her, then at Logan before he put his hands down. His lip and left cheek were already swelling. “Why the hurry? You know, there’s a deal to be made here. I’m sure you two didn’t go to all this trouble just to walk away with nothing to show for it.”
“Thanks for the offer,” Logan said and glanced at his watch. “Maybe next time.”
“Here,” she said, handing him the tie Holstrom had used to blindfold her. “Maybe you can make a knot that won’t take him all night to get out of.”
“My pleasure,” he said, passing her the Glock.
Kensey wanted so much to just take the Rembrandt. Arrange for it to mysteriously appear at the door of the Museum of Fine Arts. Weirdly, almost as though he knew what she was thinking, Logan gave a small shake of his head.
She wouldn’t have taken it, anyway. The risk for damage was too great. At least when Holstrom moved everything, which he absolutely would do, he’d take good care of the paintings. He might be a sadistic prick, but he was too greedy to cause them any harm.
Of course, she thought of just calling the police. Since Holstrom was restrained, he’d be caught red-handed. But she couldn’t see his guards allowing anyone, not even the police, onto the estate without Holstrom giving the okay.
They were armed and they’d come looking for him, and she refused to risk a shootout with Logan. She’d just trust Neil to help get Holstrom later.
Getting out was relatively easy. She found her purse on the table where Ian had put it. They waited until the timing was right and—hidden from any electronic alarms and security cameras—they ran for it.
Thankfully, Logan’s rental van wasn’t too far away. It finally hit her that it was over. She’d found what she’d been looking for. And just as he unlocked the passenger door, she realized she was still shaking, only harder now. “Logan.”
He stopped, looked at her.
“Where are the guards?” she asked. “There were two men...”
“I didn’t hurt them if that’s what you’re thinking. My guess is they’re about ten minutes away from finding Holstrom.”
“How do you know that?”
“His security system is set up with some kind of fail-safe signal tied to the lower floor access and probably other parts of the house. If it times out, the guards would automatically do a check.” Logan shrugged. “I don’t know for sure but that’s what I would do. That’s why he tried to stall us at the end. You okay?”
She nodded, leaning against the side of the van. “I want you to know I was ready to take him down myself so you wouldn’t have to get involved. I really was. I never wanted you to lose anything on my account. I’m so, so sorry.”
“You’re trembling.”
She felt just a bit lightheaded but she’d be all right once she sat down. “I hope you believe me,” she said, as her vision got narrower and narrower.