Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #1: Books 1-4 (A Dead Cold Box Set) by Blake Banner (best thriller books to read .txt) 📕

leaf frame. It was a portrait of a woman. She was in Renaissance dress and had been watching the artist as he worked. She had humorous eyes and very elegant clothes. I studied it a moment, then looked at Emma and shrugged.

She said, “That is Clarice Orsini, the wife of Lorenzo de Medici, Leonardo da Vinci’s patron. It was painted by Leonardo in 1469, just after their marriage. Its value is incalculable.”

I raised an eyebrow. “This is an original da Vinci, and you’re carrying it around in a box?”

“This is what Tammy stole from Hugh Duffy on Geronimo dos Santos’s orders.”

I put the painting back in the box. “Why have you brought it here?”

“Because I want you to hold it. I want you to conduct the negotiations. All I ask is that you make it so that dos Santos leaves us alone and we can go back to a normal life. Whatever money you make on the sale, keep for yourself. I want no part of it, and neither does Tammy. All we want is our lives back.”

“Slow down, sister.” I went and got a glass and poured myself a shot. I took a slug and rested my ass against the back of the armchair. “In the first place, it’s not just dos Santos. It’s the cops, too. Tammy is wanted in connection with two, maybe three murders. And in the second place, what makes you think I’m not just going to take the money and run?”

She pulled out a chair and sat. “John, with what you make from that painting, you will never have to work again as long as you live. You won’t just be rich, you will be fabulously rich.” She paused, studying my face. “And I am not stupid. I know it would be easy for you to fix it so that suspicion is deflected away from Tammy. Her case went cold through lack of evidence. It can go cold again, or better still, it can get closed. Steve was shot with Pete’s revolver; so was Ernesto and so was Danny Schultz. How hard would it be to pin the murders on Peter?” She watched me a moment and then gave a knowing smile. “Or if that troubles your conscience, pin it on Danny, who then got mugged and rained on with his own .38.”

She stood and came to me, slipping her silky thigh between my legs and sliding her hands over my chest. “And what you get in return is more money than you can imagine in your wildest dreams… and anything else you want.” I didn’t respond and she smiled. “The answer to your second question is that I can see right through that tough façade to the real man inside. I know what you want, John Stone, and so do you. You want me.” She pushed herself away from me and returned to the table. “Of course, if you’re not interested…”

I smiled. “You know I am, babe. But this has to be done right. Can you contact dos Santos?”

She nodded. “Yes, I know how to get a message to him.”

“I don’t want Baxter involved.”

She shook her head. “He won’t be involved.”

“But getting him off your back is not going to be easy. He will want to punish Tammy. He has to punish Tammy to make an example of her.”

She nodded. “I know. I’ve thought of that. If, between us, we can get enough information on him to incriminate him, the deal would be, he buys back his painting—he isn’t paying anyway, so he won’t care—and we don’t use the information against him.”

“What do you mean, he isn’t paying? If he isn’t, who is?”

“His master in Galicia, in Spain. Cardinal Guzman. Ultimately, the Vatican.”

“Sweet. So how do we get this information?”

She smiled and her eyes seemed to sparkle with an unholy light. “You gave me the idea last night. We arrange a negotiation. You are there as my muscle and my representative. But you wear a wire. Ostensibly, we are there to negotiate, but in reality, we are there to gather information.”

I nodded. “It might work.”

“Oh, John! It will work, I know it will! And think, when it is all over, you will be rich! We can…” She faltered. “I’m sorry…”

“Not yet, Emma. Let’s stay focused. Then we’ll see what happens.”

She looked down into her drink. “You probably hate me anyway.”

“Probably.”

She looked up at me. I smiled. After a moment, she smiled back.

“Tammy worries me. She sounds like a loose cannon. I want to meet her and talk to her. Today. Then you set up the meeting with dos Santos.” I stood. “You better go, and I need to get back to the precinct. Fix it with Tammy and call me.”

She stood. She hesitated a moment, then took two quick steps and clung to me. “John, thank you. I have been so scared. I am so grateful…”

I held her face in my hands and looked into her eyes. “There will be plenty of time for gratitude later, Emma. For now, let’s stay focused. This is not going to be easy.”

“I know.”

Her body was warm and soft, and every instinct in me was telling me to give in and take what she was offering. But I knew that would be as good as suicide, and I wasn’t ready for that quite yet. She reached up and kissed me on the cheek again, then said, “Let me just use your loo,” and she trotted up the stairs with her purse.

I gathered up the glasses and took them to the kitchen, then I called her a cab. Two minutes later she was down again, smiling.

I watched her drive away. I felt troubled. We were moving forward, but where to? She was playing a subtle game, that much was obvious, but whose game?

I went inside and