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“Who is your contact?”

Weis shook his head “He calls himself Mr D” He must have sensed my discontent with that answer, because he added with haste, “That’s all I know about him The rest of the time I dealt with Mr Kandinsky”

“What does Melissa have to do with this?”

Weis propped his head in his hands and rubbed his face, elbows on the table “She introduced us to Mr Kandinsky Oh, shit”

I absorbed the response If Kandinsky had stolen money, this could be where he’d spent it “So, Slava Kandinsky paid you to make fake artifacts for his contacts? Is that hoorks?”

Weis said, “Yep,” so abruptly, it sounded like a grunt

“Who are these contacts? Buyers? Wholesalers? What?”

“I don’t know,” he snapped “We just get paid and do our job”

And whoever got the product probably figured out the scauess Oh, shit, indeed

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Digging for infor me out, so I asked the 25,000 question: “Where is Melissa Blaine?”

Weis and Jen both gave me a hopeless look “I don’t know,” Jen said

“I thought you guys were friends,” I said

Jen heaved a sigh “Yeah Me, too”

“Did she even give a hint that she was leaving?”