Mosaic Mayhem (Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mini-Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

take the hint and leave. Instead, like the overbearing egomaniac he was, he slammed his pudgy hand over the page. “Even if helping me gets you home on time?”
    I looked up to see desperation written across his face. Either he possessed exemplary acting skills, or my theory of his involvement in Elaine’s disappearance was totally off-base. On the slim chance he spoke the truth, I decided to listen. “You have thirty seconds.”
    He pulled out the chair opposite me and sat. Before speaking, he raised his arm, snapped his fingers, and pointed to the espresso machine. One of his flunkies headed over to the breakfast buffet to prepare a cup for him. Talk about the height of hubris! “Your time is ticking away,” I said.
    He continued to sit silently staring at me while waiting for his coffee. When it arrived, he took a sip before speaking. “I’ll admit, I didn’t believe you at first, and I’m still not sure I do. I had my men look into your background. I know you’re up to your eyeballs in debt.”
    “This is how you try to convince me to help you? You’re not doing yourself any good, and your childish power play used up your time.” I stood to leave.
    “Or maybe you were merely a victim of unfortunate circumstances, in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
    I folded my arms across my chest and looked down my nose at him. “ Maybe? ”
    He exhaled his frustration. “All right. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.”
    “How noblesse oblige of you.”
    “Please.” He indicated my empty chair. “Hear me out.”
    “Why should I?”
    “Because I’m begging you.”
    He said the words as if it killed him to utter them. Men like Michael Naiman don’t beg. They demand. I lowered myself into the chair.
    “I received another phone call from the same man who originally claimed to have Elaine.”
    “Go on.”
    “He’s got her this time.”
    “I still don’t see how this involves me. Tell the police. I identified the men who took me. They know who they are.”
    “I can’t. They threatened to kill Elaine.”
    “Then pay the ransom. From what I hear, a hundred million Euros barely makes a dent in your bank account.”
    He scrubbed his hand over his stubbled jaw line. “I’ve already transferred the money, but now he’s demanding something else. One of my paintings.”
    I pointed to the portfolio. “Are you on your way to make the exchange?”
    “The kidnapper is demanding you bring him the painting.”
    “ Me? Why me?”
    “I don’t know, but now you see why I still have my suspicions about you.”
    I suppose if I were in his position, I’d have suspicions about me, as well. “If I give him the painting, he releases Elaine?”
    “That’s the deal. But no one else can know. Not the police. Not your boyfriend. No one.”
    “I don’t know where to find him. The guy who nabbed me put a sack over my head and threw me in the back of a panel truck.”
    “He said he’d find you.”
    “Like you did? How did you know where I’m staying?”
    “I have certain resources at my disposal.”
    “I’ll bet you do.”
    “Will you deliver the painting?”
    Did I have any choice? Once Elaine was freed, Zack and I would be able to catch our scheduled flight home. “For Elaine, not you.”
    He nodded, then stood. I suppose a thank-you was too much to expect. He’d used up his annual allotment of humility when he’d begged for my help.
    “Which painting?” I asked as he turned and took a few steps in the direction of the exit.
    He returned to the table. “ L’Ascète . I had to retrieve it from the museum without the police finding out.”
    His most prized possession, according to his wife. Interesting. If Michael Naiman was willing to part with something he valued more than any of his other possessions, maybe he really did love his wife and want her back. “You stole your own painting?”
    “It’s not stealing; I own it. The painting was only on loan to the museum.”
    I grabbed hold of the