He’d said that simply, as if it was something they should all understand—and they all did. It was clear Crushek and MacRyrie didn’t agree with him, but they understood his logic. Vic, however, kind of agreed. He could be pretty competitive, but he hid it well.

Shen walked in with glasses and the bottle of forty-year-old scotch he’d found.

“Poison free,” he promised as he poured each of them a glass.

“You sure?”

“I double-checked with Livy,” he said, pointing to where Livy had just been standing. She’d gone off to take more pics of the partygoers. “Apparently we should all be grateful there aren’t snakes here. It seems a honey badger party ain’t a honey badger party without some black mambas roaming around.”

Vic shuddered. “I hate snakes,” he complained before sipping his drink.

“Then you better not go to any Kowalski-Yang reunions with Livy, my friend, because that is how they all roll.”

“I’ve been thinking about adding snake to our menu,” Van Holtz announced. “Cobra with a nice red wine sauce. Or should one have white wine with snake? Or should the wine vary with the type of snake . . . ?” He shook his head. “I’ll have to do more research.”

Vic and Novikov exchanged glances across the room until both shuddered and went back to their drinks.

Livy sat on the stairs, teaching herself how her new camera worked. Toni sat down next to her, handed her a Coke.

“I thought your camera got destroyed.”

“It did. Vic bought me this one.”

“He bought you that? That must have been expensive.”

“It was, but he got a deal,” she said proudly. She wasn’t a fan of receiving stolen items—like the black pearl necklace her father had given her for her sixteenth birthday. Something he’d picked up from a heist a few days before. But Livy always did enjoy a good discount or haggling.

“You really are in love with Vic Barinov, aren’t you?” Toni asked her.

“I am. I told him it was his fault and I’d never forgive him.”

“He’s not your dad, Livy.”

“But am I? Am I going to make his life miserable?”

“You’ve damaged the man’s home several times and eaten all his honey. If he’s not miserable yet . . .”

“Thanks, friend o’ mine.”

Toni grinned. “You’re welcome. Oh!” She went into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out an envelope. “I got this in the mail yesterday. It’s from Kyle.”

Livy pulled the sheet of paper out of the envelope, unfolded it, and sighed. “Wow.”

It was of her and Vic, asleep on the bed. Thankfully, they were both dressed as they’d been the morning Kyle had seen them thatway.

“I didn’t know you could look so serene.”

“The serenity that comes with destroyed creativity.”

Toni rolled her eyes. “You and Kyle with that ridiculous theory about love and the destruction of creativity.” Toni took the camera from Livy’s hand and looked through the pictures she’d taken so far, using the display screen on the back of the digital camera. “Look at that,” she said, showing Livy a picture she’d taken of Vic and Novikov chatting outside. They’d both just shifted and hadn’t put on clothes yet. She’d shot them from behind . . . yeah, it was a great shot. And she hadn’t even futzed with it yet, but she had shot it in black-and-white.

“So can we stop with this bullshit, please?” Toni asked, pushing the camera back at her.

“I guess.”

“Aren’t there bigger issues you have to worry about?”

“You mean the whole shot-by-bears thing?”

“Nah. You’re through that. I’m talking about the illegal thing your cousin’s doing upstairs. You guys are just going to piss off Chumakov. Apparently he’s not one to back off when shamed. He may come after you again.”

“Did you hear that from your new Russian bear friends?”

“Maybe.” Toni glanced around. “Where is Zubachev anyway?”

“Flirting inappropriately with my mother in the kitchen.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. He’s very married.”

“But he’s near the poison-infused vodka—and my mother.”

“Shit!” Toni jumped up. “He hasn’t signed the contracts yet for the hockey games!”

Livy went back to playing with her new camera. “Some days, it’s just too easy to manipulate these people.”

CHAPTER 35

It took three solid days and Shen couldn’t believe it. He could not believe what he was looking at.

He held up the print of that old missing Matisse painting and compared it to the painting Melly Kowalski had created.

It was hard to believe this mess of a woman—and good God, was she a mess—could create such an amazing copy of another artist’s work. A great artist’s work. She’d even used an old canvas her family kept for such occasions and aged the work.

Shen looked at Vic. “This is amazing.”

“I now see why the Kowalskis put up with her. Apparently she can copy any artist or artist’s style.”

“So she’s like a drunk-savant.”

“I’ve never seen anyone drink so much vodka before in my life. She just passes out for a while, and when she wakes up, she’s ready to eat and get back to work. It’s utterly disturbing.”