When Forger of Death ended, I knew dead journalist Jonah Hibbert had an untold story. It was a story I found I wanted to explore. Not least because Celine—the psychic art sleuth protagonist of my Celine Skye Mystery Series—has taken on the care of Jonah’s mother, Clara.
Prior to his death, Jonah had been selling key information about the Gardner theft case. Who could he have been selling it to? The masterminds of the theft itself? Or to those who currently had some of the stolen works?
Whatever the case, it was likely he’d unearthed some incriminating evidence on them. And Jonah being Jonah—a nosy reporter with a mother in a prohibitively expensive Boston nursing home—he quite likely capitalized on what he’d discovered.
What Jonah didn’t realize is that he was playing with fire.
Here’s the scene that forms the basis of Celine’s psychic visions in Bearer of Secrets. You’ll find snippets of it in the novel.
Jonah twisted around—knee jogging incessantly—to peer at the trees behind him. Where was his contact?
Stay calm, he whispered to himself. Stay calm.
He turned back around, facing the front. An oasis of lush yellow-green stretched out before him. It was a quiet afternoon, the park empty of people and children. Even the birds seemed to be dozing the July heat off.
Aware of the rhythmic jogging of his leg, he forced his foot down upon the grass.
Calm, he whispered to himself again. He was beginning to look—and feel—like a junkie in need of a fix.
He leaned back against the hard painted metal backrest of the bench, one arm casually straddling the top. The other rested lightly upon a large white envelope on his lap.
It contained the reports the caller had requested. In return for the envelope stuffed with cash that his contact would bring with him.
Jonah had at first thought the contact and his caller were one and the same. But their voices were different. The man who called had a smooth, urbane tone.
Could he be the assistant of the guy Celine and her FBI friends called the “Boston Brahmin”? Partner of the notorious and elusive mob boss known only as the General in the biggest art heist the city had seen? Jonah thought so.
Celine had said the closest she’d gotten to the General was his assistant—a man with a smooth, polished manner unlike anything you’d expect of a mob boss or one of his associates.
Wasn’t it possible the Brahmin had a similarly suave assistant?
And as for the Brahmin himself, Jonah had a novel theory he was beginning to warm to. He needed to test it, of course. And he knew just how to do it.
Turning once more, Jonah saw the familiar figure in tan slacks and a red polo shirt.
Hiding a grin, he pushed a copy of the Massachusetts Post out on the bench, making sure the tantalizing headline faced the newcomer.
The fact that the feds suspected an insider angle in the thirty-year-old heist was sure to elicit some kind of comment. And the nature of it would help to confirm his suspicions.