Chapter 1

1

Merrick Davidson studied the Simon Xanderclied painting Anguishhanging on the museum wall. It was supposed to lead to treasure, but he wasn’t sure how. All he could see was a bald man’s face distorted in pain, with what appeared to be a sliver of moonlight in the right corner of the dark painting.

Beside Merrick, Wyatt Silvan let out a deep breath. Wyatt’s blue eyes danced over the painting, but he seemed to be miles away. No doubt Wyatt’s thoughts were with his dad. Loren Silvan had disappeared after contacting them two days ago saying he was in danger. The secret to finding the treasure was hidden in the Xanderclied paintings, Loren had said, but how did this grim image lead to anything but depression?

Merrick ran a hand over his short, dark hair. In his years of working with Wyatt, they’d managed some impossible feats, but solving this riddle might test them. “Your dad was specific about it being these?”

“Yes.” Wyatt’s voice was deep, his tone soft.

“But no clue what the secret is?”

“No.” Wyatt’s gaze met his. “Just some talk of a secret family treasure and that he was in danger.”

“Wish we had more to go on.”

They had already stolen Heartbreakand Loren had owned Sorrow. Tonight, Anguishwould join their collection. Hopefully, the secret would begin to reveal itself. Their jobs didn’t usually bother Merrick, but nothing felt good about this one.

“My dad spent five years searching for a sunken ship. Maybe he found a pirate treasure?”

“That sounds nice.” At twenty-five, Merrick had never expected this to be his way of life. While their job might not have been a legal one, they were good at it; and now that talent could save Loren’s life. The Silvans were like family to Merrick and their safety meant everything, but if there really was a treasure? Well, his life could perhaps change in fantastic ways.

Behind them, the gallery was alive with the opening of J.D. Cunningham’s show. Merrick slid his hands into the pockets of his black trousers as he scanned the crowd. Security would be focused on that high-dollar collection. Who would miss a gloomy image of a bald man’s agony?

A tall, dark-haired man walked into view with his gaze on the crowd around J.D. Even from a distance, Merrick could see the young man’s blue eyes. His heartbeat quickened, even though it was probably just wishful thinking on his part that Wyatt’s son, Grant, was there.

After all, why would he be?

“Have you talked to Grant lately?”

“His mom did.” Wyatt glanced at the four corners of the ceiling. “He was going to stay with a friend who’s a cop, so he should be safe.”

“Was he coming to town?”

“Grant? No, why?”

“No reason, just with your dad and all, I wanted to make sure he’s safe, too.”

Wyatt’s focus was still on the security of the room. He hadn’t noticed the man who looked like Grant, nor the interest Merrick had hoped to hide. “I’m not sure what my dad’s gotten mixed up in, but he always said mylife was going to ruin the family. Now he’s the one in hiding or…”

Nothing ever seemed to bother Wyatt, no challenge he couldn’t overcome. Tonight, though, he was double-checking everything. While that added to Merrick’s trepidation, he couldn’t blame Wyatt for his precision with this heist. “Think someone could really have kidnapped your dad?”

“I don’t know.” Wyatt rubbed his chin as he studied Anguish. “I hope he’s just in hiding. There’s not been a ransom request made and the cops didn’t really have anything to go on.”

“We’ll find him.”

“Stupid, ole art teacher. What was he thinking?”

Merrick scratched the dark stubble on his cheek. “If it does lead to treasure, we’re going to run into trouble, too.”

“I can’t imagine how this leads to anything.”

“Maybe when we get all the paintings together, it’ll make sense.”

“Let’s hope.” Wyatt glanced at him, then at the crowd. “There’s seven total?”

“Yes.”

Wyatt nodded. “Tonight’s a go. I’m going to take another look around.”

“All right.”

When Wyatt walked away, he passed a red-haired man with a bushy beard who nodded at him, then winked at Merrick.

Merrick smiled, but turned his gaze to the crowd. Grant was the only man he was interested in—even if Grant hadn’t spoken to him in over two months.

The young man came into view again. With his dark hair and thin, but strong frame, there was no mistaking him. He was the very image of Wyatt at age twenty-three. Grant wasthere.

With a look to his left and then his right, Grant moved deeper into the mix of people.