“Are you Nathan Ford?” she asks.
He nods as his tablemates, Parker and Hardison, scatter.
She sits. “I’m Emily Marcus. And I hear you specialize in fixing things.”
Nate nods again. “What needs fixed?”
She explains, “I run a charity auction house. People donate stuff, antiques, furniture, cars, etc., and we auction it off for different charities.”
Sophie nods. “So what’s wrong?”
Emily sighs. “We have a ‘benefactor’ who is stealing items from our inventory. I tried to confront him, but he thinks he is entitled to whatever he wants. He never donates any money, just gets all his rich friends to come to the auctions. When his friends bid on certain lots and find them gone, we have no choice but to give back their money. We’re seeing negative signs, Mr. Ford. I don’t think our little auction house can take much more. Let alone, the charities! And, the worst thing is, I could prove it was him if I could just get inside his vaults and compare our inventories.”
Sophie and Nate exchange looks.
“I think we can help you,” Nate says. “I have just the team. So, who is this guy?”
“His name is Aloysius DiCarlion,” Emily says.
“The multimillionaire?” Sophie asks.
Emily nods.
Nate thinks a moment. “We’ll do everything we can to get your stuff back and land him behind bars.”
Emily nods and leaves with a thank you.
The team descends upon the booth. Parker and Hardison sit across from Sophie and Nate. Eliot pulls up a chair and pulls Sadie onto his lap. Hardison eyes his sister. She just grins.
Nate explains the predicament.
Hardison pulls out a laptop to gain more information on the mark.
“He’s been skirtin’ around his taxes for years, but no one can prove it for certain,” Sadie says. “The FBI has been tryin’ real hard to get him for other alleged stuff.”
Hardison nods and gives the rundown on his bio. “Aloysius DiCarlion, age 45, multimillionaire, owner of rare cars and rarer furniture. His taste in women is questionable at best. He’s a wannabe adrenaline junky. Here’s his picture.”
The team looks at the laptop screen.
“He looks like a playboy,” Sophie says.
“He is,” the Hardison siblings say in unison.
Sadie sticks her tongue out at Alec, who shakes his head.
“Anyway, he is a playboy,” Alec says. “He likes airheaded bubbly ditzes who don’t know anything and don’t know any better.”
“That way he can love ‘em and leave ‘em and they won’t complain too much. Besides, if nothing much is on upstairs, he can just use ‘em as silent eye candy,” Sadie says.
Alec nods. “He also has a taste for undiscovered artists, painters, singers, etc., especially if they’re cute and female,” he looks at Sadie. “And he likes fine wine and showing off his mansion to his friends.”
“He has regular parties that are basically these lavish attempts to say, ‘hey, look at me! I’m the one with all the toys!’” Sadie adds.
“Why’d ya look at Sadie?” Nate asks Alec.
“She can paint and sing and draw and dance,” Alec says
“I only do the two-step!” Sadie protests.
Alec shakes his head. “Nana got you those two years of tap and ballroom.”
“Two years! I was twelve years old!” Sadie groans. “Oh, for cryin’ out loud!”
Eliot chuckles.
Sadie eyes him and smirks.
Alec nods toward Sadie. “But, still, we all know she can sing, and I know she can paint. That’s our in to his next shindig.”
“Shindig?” Sadie eyes her brother. “You’re soundin’ like me.”
Alec sticks his tongue out at his sister, who grins at him.
Nate and Sophie exchange looks and shake their heads.
“Back to Mr. DiCarlion,” Sadie says.
Nate nods. “Can you get us in with your artwork, Sadie?”
“It’s possible I can get myself plus one guest,” she says. “Y’all might have to find a different in.”
Nate nods. “Can you get us in, Hardison?”
He nods. “Certainly. His next party is a masquerade ball.”
Sadie taps her chin with a finger.
Hardison eyes her.
“I don’t know what his taste in art is,” she says.
“It looks like he’s into Impressionism,” Sophie says, looking up from her phone.
“I can do that, but does he like portraits? Is he more into Renoir or Cassat? Does he like a dark pallet or a colorful one?” Sadie sighs.
“He likes Renoir and Monet,” Sophie says.
“I’ve got the perfect painting!” Sadie jumps up. “Now, I just need a way to present it.” She eyes her brother.
“I’m on it,” he says, typing. “Can you get twenty paintings done by Friday?”
Sadie nods.
“There is your in,” he says, pointing to the laptop screen.
On the screen is a gallery showing that boasts Mr. DiCarlion will be there.
“Perfect,” she says, standing. “Keep me in the loop. I gotta go buy some more paint and canvases.”
Eliot follows her.
“What’s up with those two?” Parker says.
Everyone shrugs as Eliot and Sadie leave.
“I think Eliot’s taken to your sister, Hardison,” Nate says.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Hardison says.
*****
Sadie is wearing a paint splattered men’s shirt and equally paint splattered jeans with holes in the knees and other places. She stands before a canvas with two horses in a field of flowers and a young girl holding the reins of both horses.
“I learn something new about you every day,” Eliot says from behind her. “That’s you, isn’t it?”
She nods. “My favorite horse was the one with gray speckles.”
He leans over and kisses a non-paint splattered portion of her cheek.
She grins and says, “Turn up the music, darlin’. I’ve got twelve more paintings to do and dry before Friday.”
He nods and turns up the music, sitting and watching her.
Hardison knocks on the door.
Eliot stands, walks down the hall, and answers.
“Since when are you at Sadie’s during the day?” Hardison asks him.
“I’m here a lot,” Eliot replies.
“Hey, Ally!” Sadie calls from her small studio area.
“Is he bugging you?” Hardison asks, pointing to Eliot.
“No,” she says, eyeing Alec like he’s weirder than normal.
Hardison moves forward to look at her paintings. “Very nice,” he says.
“Thanks,” she says, and taps the paintbrush against her chin, smudging pink onto her skin.
Eliot laughs and wipes her chin with a paper towel.
“And that’s the fiftieth time I’ve done that today,” she says with a sigh. “I need to watch which end I’m tappin’ against my face.”
Hardison shakes his head. “Some things never change.”
“Yeah, well, this is a lot better than my sixth grade Fauvism period,” she says.
“Do not remind me of that!” he says with a laugh. “She painted me tearing a pig to pieces with clawed hands.”
“You?” Eliot asks.
“I was trying to breed his self-confidence,” she says, adding paint here and there on the canvas. “Instead, I made him wet his pants.”
“I was five years old,” Hardison says. “And that was personal.”
Eliot laughs.
“Anyway,” Hardison turns to his sister. “The gallery wants three of your paintings as samples for what your show will look like.”
“The samples will be included in the showin’, right?” she asks.
“Yes,” he says. “I made sure to ask that.”
She smiles. “All righty then. You can have these three as samples, ‘cause they’re dry.”
She hands him three canvases:
1- A large painting of a meadow surrounded by trees. In the center is a rock with a woman in a blue dress sitting lightly on its edge.
2- A medium size painting of horses running into the wild through water as a young girl rides bareback on the frontrunner.
3-A large painting of wild yellow roses growing up a trellis against a red barn with the sun setting in the background.
“Impressive,” Hardison says, carefully placing them into a large, wooden portfolio case. “I’ll get these to the gallery owner and give him your regards.”
“Thanks,” Sadie nods and turns back to the misted bridge over a space of river that she’s working on.
Hardison leaves.
Eliot goes back to watching her paint and dance at the same time.
****
Hardison presents the three paintings to the gallery owner who fawns all over them.
“These are exquisite,” he says. “Where is the artist?”
“She is working on several more masterpieces for the showing,” Hardison says. “She said to give you her regards and that she’s looking forward to the show.”
The gallery owner nods. “As am I…looking forward to her showing, that is.”
Hardison smiles.
“It might be too much to ask, but can she do thirty paintings instead of twenty?” He asks.
Hardison thinks a moment. “I’ll ask her and get back to you.”
The owner nods and says thank you as Hardison leaves.
****
Sadie is dressed in a long dark blue dress with a slit up to her knee, high heels, and a blue flower in her hair. Her makeup is precise and beautiful. She sips a glass of champagne and mingles with the crowd at the gallery. Mr. DiCarlion approaches her.
She smiles at him.
“Your pieces are simply divine,” he says.
“Thank you, Mr.—?” she says.
“Mr. DiCarlion,” he says, taking her hand and kissing it.
“Then, thank you, Mr. DiCarlion,” she says.
“I love finding new, up-and-comers,” he says. “And, I would love to have some of your pieces on display for my next party. Of course, you would be invited, plus a guest.”
“Oh really?!” Sadie makes a point of looking more excited than she actually is.
“It is a masquerade ball,” he says.
“Oh,” Sadie says. “I’ve always wanted to go to one of those. You are talkin’ about the kind where you dress up in period pieces and talk with bad British accents?”
He laughs, a genuine laugh. “Indeed, my dear.”
She smiles. “Where is it?”
“My mansion,” he says, letting the word mansion sound more important than it is.
“Oh, really? You own a mansion?” Sadie plays along.
“Miss Sadie?” The gallery owner interrupted.
“Excuse me, Mr. DiCarlion,” Sadie says turning to the owner.
“Of course, my dear,” the multimillionaire says. “I shall find you later to discuss your artwork.”
She nods and turns to the owner. “What did you need?”
“There’s a couple in the other room that wants to buy one of your pieces,” he says.
Sadie smiles and follows him.
Nate and Sophie are standing before her painting of a young girl up to her ears in sunflowers and Indian paint brush, laughing at a butterfly.
“This is just beautiful, Sadie,” Sophie says.
Sadie blushes. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Nate smiles at her. “We would love to buy this painting.”
Mr. DiCarlion strides up. “So would I,” he says.
“Oh!” Sadie says. “I’m not sure I want to sell this one.”
“How would $20,000.00 sound?” Nate throws out a number.
Sadie blinks at him.
“How about $30,000.00?” DiCarlion says.
Sadie blinks at him.
“I could go $35,” Nate says.
Sadie stutters.
“I could go $40,” DiCarlion says.
Sadie lets them argue for a moment more before saying, “Gentlemen.”
They look at her.
“I can make you both replicas of this, but the original is not for sale,” she says.
Nate nods.
DiCarlion nods.
“My offer of $50,000 stands for that replica, though,” Nate says.
“And I shall match it,” DiCarlion says.
Sadie blushes. “Thank you, both. Y’all are so sweet.”
DiCarlion takes her hand and kisses it. “Thank you.”
Sadie shrugs.
“And to you, sir,” DiCarlion turns to Nate.
“I am Carl Ashton,” Nate says. “This is my wife, Ellen Ashton.”
Sophie extends her hand, which is promptly kissed by DiCarlion.
“A pleasure to meet you both,” he says. “I would love it if you both would attend my upcoming masquerade ball.”
“We would be honored,” Nate says with a grin, shaking hands with DiCarlion.
****
Sadie puts the finishing touches on the frames for the two replica paintings, before packing them up and loading them into her truck. Eliot climbs in the passenger side.
“After we drop these off, we’ll go pick up our costumes,” she says.
Eliot grumbles. “I do not wanna wear tights.”
“With your muscular legs, you’ll look cute, sugar cube.” She winks at him.
He reluctantly smiles at her.
She drops the first one off for DiCarlion, Eliot lifting it out of the truckbed and carrying it to the house.
DiCarlion personally greets her and unwraps the painting. “Just as exquisite as the original,” he says.
“Thank you,” Sadie says.
Eliot picks up the scraps of paper wrapping and hands them to a maid, who tries to flirt, but doesn’t succeed.
“And who is he?” DiCarlion asks.
“My boyfriend,” Sadie replies, without pause.
“Ah, of course,” he says. “I should’ve known that one as beautiful and talented as you would be taken.”
Sadie blushes and shakes her head.
Eliot moves closer, but doesn’t say or do anything really.
DiCarlion makes arrangements for parts of her collection to be brought to the mansion to be displayed during the ball and hands them their invitations as well as the ones for the Ashtons.
With a sweet goodbye, Sadie and Eliot head off.
“That guy is getting on my last nerve,” Eliot says.
“He’s a playboy who thinks I’m an idiot,” Sadie says. “So, yeah, I can see why he gets on your nerves.”
Eliot chuckles and scoots to the middle seat.
Sadie pulls up behind the bar. They get out with the painting and head inside.
Nate smiles. “What’s up?”
“Y’all’s invites and the painting you ordered,” she says.
“I didn’t really order the painting,” he says.
“I know, but I did two replicas, and I know you actually liked it. So, it’s yours.”
Nate grins. “Thanks. I’ll hang it up on the wall over here.” He points to one of the far walls of the bar, opening the wrapping.
“That’s you, isn’t it?” Parker asks Sadie.
Sadie nods. “Most of the time it is me in my paintin’s.”
Eliot tilts his head. “So, the girl in the yellow dress—?”
Sadie nods.
“I don’t remember that one,” Sophie says.
“That’s ‘cause it’s at her place,” Hardison says. “In her bedroom, on the wall behind the door.”
Sadie nods. “Yep.”
“Why is the girl in the yellow dress so important?” Parker asks.
“It’s sad,” Sadie says, end of story.
Eliot hugs her.
“Why have you been in her bedroom?” Hardison asks Eliot.
“I invited him in,” Sadie says, sticking her tongue out at her brother.
Hardison shakes his head and pulls his sister aside.
“What?” she asks.
“Eliot’s not exactly a long-term romance kinda guy,” he says.
Sadie shrugs. “He might change his tune, and, if he doesn’t, you can tell me ‘I told ya so.’”
Hardison shakes his head. “Just be careful.”
“You realize you’re talking to me and not Michael, right?” she asks.
Hardison facepalms. “Just promise.”
“Fine. I promise to be careful,” she says. “Happy?”
Hardison nods, unsure.
They rejoin the group. She realizes Eliot overheard, but says nothing for now.
She wraps her arms around Eliot’s waist. “We need to get our costumes.”
He nods, and they head out.
“Hardison is way overprotective,” she says once they’re in the truck and on their way to the costume shop.
“You knew,” he says.
“I know you well enough all ready,” she says.
“I do have a record of love ‘em and leave ‘em,” he admits.
“You are no DiCarlion,” she says.
“What if I am?” He stares out the window.
She places a hand on his arm. “You aren’t. I know hearts, and yours is always in the right place.”
Eliot smiles at her as they pull up to the costume shop.
****
The night of the masquerade, the three pairs of the team meet up in an abandoned park before going in to make sure everything is coordinated.
Sadie steps out of her truck (passenger side) in a Renaissance gown of grey and a pink cape with yellow ribbons in her red curls and on the hems of her dress and sleeves. A lute is strapped to her back.
Eliot comes around the side, awkward in his grey tights. He is wearing brown cropped pants and a grey shirt with a yellow vest. He has a pink feather in his grey cap and a lute strapped to his back.
Nate steps out of a limo in a lord’s outfit: royal blues and navy tones on his pants and shirt with etchings of silver and a dark blue cape.
He offers a hand to Sophie, who is in a red and blue dress with all the bells and whistles required of a lady.
The tech van doors open to reveal Parker in a Renaissance maid’s outfit, complete with apron.
Hardison steps into view dressed as MCHammer complete with silver-gold parachute pants.
Sadie says as the others laugh, “What the hell do you think you’re wearin’?”
“It’s a masquerade,” he says defensively.
“Well, Mr. Cheesy McSparklepants, it’s a masquerade ball. Typically, you wear Renaissance-y clothes and masks,” she says.
“Hardison, you just stay in the van,” Nate says.
“Fine. Fine. It’s always the van for poor Alec Hardison,” he replies.
“And, Parker, you’ll need to change once you’re in,” Sophie says.
Parker nods and unzips her dress revealing her typical black outfit complete with climbing gear.
“Girl, I wish I knew all your secrets,” Sadie says.
Parker grins and winks, pulling the maid dress back up and rezipping it.
Everyone climbs back in their cars after the briefing (Parker in the covered bed of the truck) and pulls out.
“I wish I could beat someone up today,” Eliot complains.
“Maybe, tomorrow,” Sadie says.
Eliot grins and puts on his grey and yellow, feathered mask, before letting the valet take the keys. Sadie pulls on her own grey and pink, feathered mask and takes Eliot’s arm.
DiCarlion is greeting all his guests as they enter. “Why, Miss Sadie and guest? I would never know it was you under that mask. What a beautiful costume!”
“Thank you, good sir,” Sadie says with the worst British accent she can come up with.
DiCarlion laughs. “You don’t have to use accents.”
She laughs back. “Good. I don’t think I could’ve kept that up all night.”
Eliot smiles politely at DiCarlion as they move on into the festivities.
“Miss Sadie and guest,” Eliot mocks.
Sadie giggles.
Eliot smiles at her.
“Were you attempting a real accent, there?” Sophie asks over the ear pieces.
“Of course not, my darling,” Sadie whispers in a crisp British accent. “If I wanted to do a real British accent, I would do a real British accent.”
Sophie laughs. “That’s what I thought.”
Eliot grins at Sadie as she tucks her arm in his.
Nate and Sophie arrive not too shortly after and head inside to greet DiCarlion.
Once the guests have all assembled and the dancing and feasting has begun, Sadie gives the signal to Parker.
Parker gets out of the truck bed and wends her way to the kitchens. Taking a tray of goodies, she heads for the ballroom and sets them down near the table, making sure to spill some on Sadie’s cloak.
“Oh dear!” Sadie says.
“I’ll get a towel, mi’lady,” Parker says, heading off in the direction of the nearest cleaning supply closet.
Eliot dabs the food off Sadie’s cloak as the two bards wait for the signal.
Parker takes off the dress once she finds an empty room and heads toward the vault room. “I’m in a room within a room within a room,” she says.
Hardison starts spouting off something about technology that Parker seems to be the only one who understands. Eliot and Sadie move toward DiCarlion.
“A song,” Sadie says. “If it pleases you, sir, we shall sing.”
DiCarlion smiles and waves them onward. “A song from our bards!”
Everyone cheers. “Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!”
Sadie begins strumming her lute, Eliot follows her lead. Sadie begins singing a ballad about a young girl who is watching a man betray his love. Eliot joins in on the chorus, harmonizing with her gentle tone.
Everyone listens carefully, enjoying the harmonies.
DiCarlion sits oblivious.
The pair of bards start in on several more songs.
Parker works her way to the room with the vaults. The problem is there are five vaults and no way to tell what’s in them until you open them, and they have to be opened one at a time.
Sadie and Eliot keep stalling with songs, so Parker can have time.
Parker opens the first vault to find it filled with old toys. She closes it and waits before moving to the next one, all while suspended from the ceiling so as not to set off the motion sensor floor.
“This is difficult,” she grunts as she hooks the second vault and pulls herself toward it.
“If only she’ll keep at it, she shall win the lad’s true love,” Sadie sings, improvising words to a Renaissance-like tune.
“Got it,” Parker says and begins working on the second vault.
Eliot grins, merely playing harmony on his lute.
After an hour of singing, Sadie and Eliot bow off the stage gracefully.
“I hope you’re almost done, Parker,” Sadie whispers.
“Last vault,” Parker grunts.
“You can do it, Parker,” Hardison chimes in. “It has to be this one.”
DiCarlion moves toward Sadie as she picks up a bottle of water and shares it with Eliot.
“You appreciate art in many forms, lovely one,” he says to her.
Sadie smiles. “Yes. I do.”
DiCarlion grins. “Perhaps, you’d like to see my private collection.”
Sadie nods. “We’d love to see it.” She links her arm in Eliot’s.
“Actually, I just meant you,” DiCarlion says.
“Oh,” Sadie says. “But…”
“You will understand if I kidnap your girl for a couple minutes or so?” DiCarlion says.
“She can do as she wishes,” Eliot says. “But, you can’t. Understand?”
DiCarlion nods and moves off to check with his security for a moment.
Eliot grins. “Use force if necessary. Besides, I’ll be able to come running if you need me.”
She kisses his cheek. “I know.”
He blushes slightly and lets her go off toward DiCarlion.
“Ready?” she asks.
He nods and takes her arm, leading her toward the East Wing of the mansion, directly toward Parker.
“Where’s this private collection of yours?” Sadie asks.
“Through this door,” he says, opening up the door next to the door to the vault room.
Sadie steps through the door and gasps. “Oh my gosh!”
DiCarlion grins. “Well?”
“That’s a real Monet!” She gapes at it, openly. “How on earth did you manage that?”
“I know people who know people who know people,” he says.
“VanGogh, Monet, Renoir, Degas, Cassat?!”
“And Sadie is now lost to us,” Hardison says.
“I could get so lost in this room right now,” she says. “But I wouldn’t know where to start losin’ myself.”
“And that would be Sadie’s way of saying she isn’t lost to us,” Nate says.
Eliot chuckles.
DiCarlion grins. “You could come back here as often as you’d like.”
“I sense some sort of agreement gettin’ ready to come out of your mouth,” Sadie says, looking at him.
“If you dump that idiot boyfriend and become my wife, this could be yours every day,” he says.
“Idiot?!” Sadie growls in her throat. “My boyfriend is smarter than you’ll ever be! And, he knows how to be a gentleman and a cowboy, thank you!”
“I could be a cowboy if you needed me to,” he says.
Eliot chuckles at that thought.
“Don’t make me laugh, DiCarlion,” she says, saying his name like it was a cuss word. “Jeans and boots wouldn’t look good on you.”
“Maybe, I’ll just take what I want,” he says, reaching for her arms.
“I grew up on a ranch. Just try and take it,” she says, steeling herself for the fight.
DiCarlion grabs for her.
She punches his chin, harder than she intended.
He blinks the water from his eyes and dances around her.
Sadie kicks at him, fully expecting him to grab her foot, which he does. She spins herself around and kicks him in the side. He stumbles back and drops her.
“I could call for my security team,” he says.
“And make yourself look stupid? Can’t even handle a girl?” She says.
He growls and runs at her.
She brings her knee up at the last minute and knocks the air right out of him.
“It’s in the last vault,” Parker says. “I’ve got the pictures and the vault inventory.”
“Time to wrap things up,” Nate says.
“Keep comin’, and I’ll gladly keep knockin’ you down, DiCarlion,” Sadie says.
“Need help?” Eliot asks Sadie.
“No,” she says at Eliot and DiCarlion. “You don’t want me to keep kickin’ ya.”
“Get out of here,” DiCarlion says.
“Gladly!” Sadie backs out the door and slams it behind her.
Parker appears beside her.
“Hey, sugar!” Sadie says to Parker as they walk toward the stairs.
Parker smiles. “Not a hair out of place. Eliot could take lessons.”
“Hey!” Eliot says with a smile.
Sadie laughs and heads down the stairs ahead of Parker.
“Everyone okay?” Hardison asks.
“Yep,” Sadie says.
Eliot takes Sadie by the arm and leads her out to the valet guys once Parker gives them the clear that she’s back in the truck. They are the first to leave.
Nate and Sophie leave soon after.
Sadie calls in her older brother, Michael to review the evidence. DiCarlion is arrested for theft from the auction as well as art theft of the Monets, Degas’, etc.
****
Eliot and Sadie are alone at her place, dancing to some country song in her living room.
“You okay?” Eliot asks her.
“DiCarlion’s behind bars and the paintings are all back where they belong,” she says. “I’m fine, darlin’.”
He smiles. “You really did manage to take him down without a hair out of place.”
She grins back. “No hairspray, either.”
He laughs. “Then,” he leans in and whispers, “I want to know your secrets.”
She smiles. “Maybe,” she whispers back.
They kiss.
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