Progress of Love

Chapter 5: Payback

"Mozzie?" Jones simply stared at him for a moment. "Why are you here?"

"I realized you'd need a little refreshment." He jumped inside, carrying two shopping bags. "Call it a pre-Valentine's Day celebration. I have amaretto coffee and cupcakes." He retrieved a box from the larger bag and Diana placed her fist over her mouth to silence her moan. "Red velvet, cherry bomb, triple chocolate, raspberry beret, I hope there's something you find appealing."

"You're trying to bribe us," Diana accused but she heard the wavering in her voice, as the aroma from the cupcakes pulled her closer.

"Never! I merely wanted to keep two valued members of the FBI Gestapo in tiptop shape."

"Now I know you're full of it," Jones said, reaching for a cupcake. "But I don't care."

Diana reached for the triple-chocolate beacon of pleasure. "I'm still not sanctioning your so-called romance with Lavinia."

He took the lids off the coffee cups. "Everything is negotiable. Let the bidding commence."

"Don't confuse the Round Table with democracy," she warned. "Plots are not decided by a popularity contest."

"What do you have in mind for my character?" Jones demanded, helping himself to a raspberry beret. "He's virtually disappeared for the past several stories. I was disappointed to learn that Arkham Jones didn't even come up during this week's planning session—one that I had to miss because of my surveillance responsibilities." He cocked a brow at Diana.

This was a tricky situation. Jones was her superior at work if not in Arkham. Jones's opinion carried much more weight than Mozzie's. Fortunately, she'd already thought of a plausible delaying tactic. "Henry's working on your character and has several promising ideas, but they'll have to wait till after the next story." She and Christie had plans for the evening. She didn't want to wind up being scheduled for the night shift too.

"One idea I did like," Jones conceded, "was the Tudor Crown. I hadn't even heard of the artifact." He turned to Mozzie. "Tricia told me it was your idea. How did you come up with it?"

"Lost treasures are one of my specialties," he dismissed airily. He handed a napkin to Diana and stroked his upper lip. She quickly wiped chocolate frosting from her mouth.

"But I'm glad you brought it up," Mozzie continued. "The Tudor Crown is an ideal device to encourage Cupid to pay Lavinia a call."

"Cupid will have to wait his turn," she retorted. "Where's the gripping story arc for Jones and me? You and Henry owe us after all the favors we did for Neal and Sara. It's payback time." When he didn't respond, she added in her take-no-prisoners voice, "Is that understood?"

Mozzie had his eyes riveted to the display. "Did you notice the man who just entered the building?"

"Yeah, what about him?" Jones rewound the feed to take another look.

"Search your database for Sebastian Hendricks," he said. "He's better known as 'Hatchet Hendricks.' Nasty character. He's done a few jobs for Wilkes. Now what, I wonder, is his business with Alex?"

* * * * *

By the end of a long day on Saturday, Neal had finished the brushwork on the forgeries. All that remained was aging the canvas. He'd refined the craquelure application to a three-step process. Each step was separated by a few hours of curing time. He took advantage of the evening lull to visit his art studio at Columbia where his own works were forlornly awaiting his attention. The twenty-minute walk from June's mansion was a refreshing break after being cooped up inside all day.