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“Thanks, but no. I think I can handle the auction.” I tapped my fingers on the door frame. “Did you track the piece that Kavner Fury bought?”
Amy nodded. “All accounted for, right here in New Orleans. All taxes paid.”
I felt a funny tug in my chest. “No red flags?”
“Nope. I called the museum director. The painting is hanging in pride of place on the wall, and she sang Kavner Fury’s praises.”
“Come on,” I said. “With men like him, there are always red flags.”
Amy arched a black brow. “You mean, handsome billionaires who like to give back to their community?”
Toby scoffed. “I don’t know, I think he’s trying too hard. Holding charity events, donating expensive artwork. He’s hiding something.”
“There’s a reason he tries too hard,” Amy said. “And all the other Fury brothers, too.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I dug a little more into their backgrounds.” Amy shook her head. “The Fury brothers aren’t biological brothers.”
I straightened. “I know. They all came out of foster care.”
Amy nodded. “I don’t have all the details, but the hints are that they all had rough childhoods. And when I say rough, I mean rough. And foster care wasn’t exactly much better for them.”
I thought of Kavner’s handsome face and tailored suits. Then I thought of a boy with no family. All alone.
Toby scoffed again. “That just makes me think they’re more likely to be shady.”
Amy’s nose wrinkled as she looked at him. “Are you serious?” She shook her head and looked back at me. “The auction is soon?”
I nodded. “I need to go home and change.” I needed to look less like a federal agent and more like a wealthy art collector. “Keep me posted. Oh, and keep running any more names you find on the list that look suspicious.”
Toby gave a quick salute. “We’ve got this.”
“I’ll see you both later.”
I quickly drove home to change. The sheath dress I picked was a dark green, with a scoop neck and long sleeves. I figured it should make me look the part. I freshened my makeup and hair, then slipped into nude pumps and headed out.
Brennan Auction was only a few blocks away from my apartment. It was located at the end of a long, renovated, two-story warehouse, painted a warm shade of cream. There was an awning over the deep-red-colored front doors.
I parked in the lot beside the warehouse and tightened my ponytail. Night was falling, and I watched a steady stream of people walking into the auction house. They were all well-dressed, the women carrying expensive handbags and the men in suits. There were several limousines and town cars parked at the curb.
I strode across the lot, my heels clicking. I nodded at the burly security guard standing at the door.
Then I stepped inside, and felt like I’d entered Aladdin’s cave. It was filled with large rugs, elegant, old-world furniture, and art. Large, framed paintings hung on the walls, and bookcases and tables were topped with statues, clocks, and vases. It looked like a treasure trove.
I paused to admire a puzzle box resting on a shelf.
Oh. It was gorgeous.
Glancing around, I reached out and touched the smooth wood. That’s when I felt a sense that someone was watching me. I snatched my hand back and looked up.
No one was paying me any attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please head upstairs for the auction,” a voice called.
I gave the puzzle box one last glance before I joined the flow of people heading upstairs. There were rows of chairs set up in front of a small podium. Several servers walked around with trays, offering drinks and canapés.
Surreptitiously, I watched the crowd. Two women nearby shared an air kiss. Three suit-clad men stood in a small group, talking. Most people in the room seemed to be solo or in pairs. There was a painting at the front of the room, resting on an easel.
