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felt a frisson of energy, that tingle she often felt when a line tugged during an investigation connected with something. It felt right, solid. El returned to the top of the info pack and started to read carefully through the stats they had on Luke Calloway.
    There, a dozen sentences in, was a list of his known kin.
    He had a sister living in central London.
    “Bullseye,” she said, looking up and nudging James. “Louise Calloway, Luke’s sister. She’s in easy driving distance of the Gallery. Luke and Kent could have made the trip out to her place, left the Cezanne behind and been at the docks with plenty of time to spare.”
    James frowned, pursed his lips and seemed to think about it. A minute ticked by before he finally shook his head.
    “I don’t know, El. That doesn’t sound right to me. Was there any indication Louise was involved in the smuggling?”
    Uncertainty gnawed at her.
    “No. No, I haven’t seen anything that links her with that side of his business. And I know Luke called his lawyer, not Louise, after he was arrested. But look here,” She pointed to the screen. “He’s based primarily in Dublin. All his contacts, his mates, the vast majority of the real estate he owns is in Ireland. There’s just a few scattered homes and warehouses along the coast of Wales and Scotland. There’s no indication he has anything permanent or safe here in London. But his sister lives here. Surely that means something? Who else could he turn to, and trust, with this painting? It’s logical, right?”
    “I can see the logic,” James admitted, “but why would he leave something this important with his sister? If she isn’t a part of it… Well, it’s not like he can just drop in unexpectedly, give her a hug and ask her to watch the priceless piece of artwork for him over a quick cup of tea before leaving again, is it?”
    “I think it’s worth asking her. Seeing her for ourselves and gauging her responses. It’s an idea—a solid, actionable lead. Maybe the fact it isn’t the smartest move for Luke to have made means it’s too easy to overlook. Besides, she’s family, and blood has to count for something, wouldn’t you think?”
    James tilted his head to the side, twisting his mouth as he thought about it. He nodded, placed her papers in a neat pile on the coffee table and stood.
    “It doesn’t have the zing of rightness for me, but that could be because we’ve only got part of the picture. It certainly can’t hurt to speak with her.”
    Excitement sang through her blood. James had some good points, but they didn’t have a better idea just now. Finding a thread, anything worth following, was always a step in the right direction. They’d moved her jacket to the floor when they’d set up the coffee table. El strode over and picked it up. She shrugged into it, then took her mobile phone from the inner pocket.
    She checked her messages out of habit, finding her inbox empty.
    “I’m just going to call Robert,” she said. “Depending on how bored he is, or how badly he’s driving everyone back at the office crazy, he might want to join us.”
    “I always wondered why the two of you didn’t hook up,” James said. He reached out, stroked his palm over her ponytail. El tilted her head slightly, enjoying the way James’ touch felt. He had this knack of caressing his fingers over her hair and down the nape of her neck. It drove her wild and made her shiver delightfully.
    “In some ways we’re very similar,” she had to drag her mind back to the task at hand. “We both enjoy putting the pieces together, solving the puzzle and finding answers. We work well together—after so many years, we’re used to each other’s rhythm and flow. I love him like my brother, though, and he feels the same in return. We’re close, and there’s a bond there—but it’s platonic and I genuinely feel if we’d ever become sexually intimate we couldn’t work the same together. That faith and trust we have would