The Artful Goddaughter by Melodie Campbell Read Free Book Online Page B

his thing. We meet back here in twenty minutes. Piece of cake.”
    â€œDo we get cake?” Wally said.
    We got them out of the van. One by one, with walkers and canes, they shuffled into the glass atrium of the art gallery.
    As I watched them go, I felt strange. I wasn’t used to waiting on the sidelines. But Nico figured I should stay out of sight. This was because of another incident that involved the police and the art gallery earlier this year. My second cousin Tony (meaning my distant cousin, not one of the other Tonys) had been shot by some guys from New York. Unfortunately, I had also been on the spot.
    So Nico was supervising the actual heist, and I was driving the getaway car. At least, that’s what we told Jimmy and the old dears. Best that they think this was a real job. It would bring back the good ol’ days. Might as well give everyone a thrill since they were missing their speed-dating night.
    When all bodies were clear, I steered the van into a disabled-parking spot in the parkade. Then I picked up my tablet and spent a little time reading.
    Next thing I knew, Nico texted my cell phone. “All done. We’re here.”
    I paid for parking and drove out to meet them in the lane.
    We loaded the stealth seven on board. Walkers got folded and canes put to rest. I pulled away from the curb.
    â€œHow did it go?” I asked.
    â€œYou don’t want to know,” said Nico. He plopped down on the seat opposite me and groaned. “Really, you don’t want to know.”
    â€œBut I’m gonna tell her anyway,” said Mrs. Bari. She was bouncing up and down on her seat.
    â€œPut your seat belt on,” I commanded. “Nico, can you get them all to sit down and buckle up?”
    â€œMy seat belt won’t fit over my big—”
    â€œEnough of that, Wally!” Nico sounded harsh—especially for Nico.
    â€œWow, Nico. What gives?” He was never short like this.
    â€œWally flashed them.” Mrs. Bari giggled.
    Nico groaned again. “That wasn’t the sort of distraction I was planning on.”
    â€œFlashed who?”
    â€œOne elderly docent and the entire grade-eight art class from St. Bonaventure.”
    Oops.
    â€œEveryone screamed,” another old dear added excitedly. “Some even laughed.”
    â€œI did,” said Mrs. Bari.
    â€œThey aren’t even going to press charges,” said Jimmy.
    â€œI had to promise that Uncle Vince would make a big donation to the school sports program,” said Nico. His tone was only slightly hysterical.
    â€œBut it worked,” I said philosophically. “All’s well that ends well.” Honestly, I was relieved. The art gallery had the real painting. I had the forgery. Nobody had died. Nobody was even in jail. That made the operation a success, in my books.
    I was a happy camper. I wouldn’t be humiliated in front of the family after all. I turned left out of the parking lot.
    Nico opened the sack to look at the painting.
    Gasp. Cough. Mutter.
    â€œWhat is it? Spit it out, Nico.” Jeesh. I didn’t need all these dramatics.
    â€œUh, Gina? We have a problem.”
    â€œWhat?” I was already speeding down King.
    â€œUm…really, I don’t know how to tell you this.”
    â€œTell me.”
    Nico sighed. “It’s the wrong painting.”
    â€œWHAT?” I veered to the curb and slammed on the brakes. “Show me.”
    I slammed the transmission into Park.
    Nico held up the painting.
    â€œCRAP!” I screeched. “Crappity crap.”
    It was a really nice painting. She was quite beautiful, in fact. Rather Rubenesque, but in a good way. I could see why a man like Jimmy might like this painting.
    But it wasn’t the right one.
    â€œJimmy, I am speechless. Honestly, I don’t know what to say.” Nico’s voice was starting to squeak.
    â€œWhaddaya mean?” Jimmy said. “You tole me to steal dat.”