"So what do you want for it?" I asked, ignoring his comment.

"I want in."

"In what?"

"In whatever you've got going here. I don't know if it's a scam, a treasure hunt, or something else. Whatever it is, I want in. And I want the whole story."

"And?" I asked, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Fifty percent."

"Thank you very much, Russ," said Sabrina, going over and opening the door. "But we don't need it that much."

Silence. He looked at me, at her, at the door, then down at the painting. He knew when he said it that he'd never get fifty percent. Now the negotiating would begin.

"Thirty."

"Door's still open," said Sabrina.

"Twenty, but that's the lowest I'll go."

"Ten, and that's the highest we'll go," I countered.

His eyes narrowed. "What are we talking here?"

"A million," answered Sabrina. "Maybe more.

Prison certainly taught her how to lie with a straight face.

"We don't know for sure ourselves," she continued. "But the fact is, we've put in all the work. You just happen to be lucky enough to have a small clue. It'll speed up the process, but that's all. That doesn't warrant twenty percent."

Dollar signs hovered over Russ's head. "Okay, let's split the difference," he said. "Fifteen."

I looked at Sabrina, who gave an imperceptible nod. We had already decided we'd go as high as twenty, so we were making out on the deal.

"Okay."

"With the agreement," added Sabrina, "that your contribution ends here. Don't get it in your head that you're coming with us. The fact is, I don't like you, and I don't want you anywhere near us." Thoughts of how he cheated the sweet couple in Fairfield were obviously at the forefront of her thoughts.

He was staring at her—more specifically to one area of her anatomy.

"And if I catch you staring at my boobs one more time, I'm going to shove that painting down your throat."

That was the thing I was learning about Sabrina. She was all sweet and kind—even shy—most of the time, but if you got in her space … look out. I was beginning to learn what space must mean to a prisoner.

Russ quickly looked away. Somehow he could sense she meant business. I wasn't sure if he had planned to ask to come along for the ride—wherever that was—or if he was only out for the money. Sabrina settled that quickly with her comment.

"And one more condition," he said. "I keep the painting."

"No way!" I exclaimed.

"You can take all the pictures of it you want, but it stays in my possession. Just a little proof if down the line you try to screw me out of my share."

"Forget it," I said. "What's to stop you from going after it yourself?"

"You think I haven't already taken pictures?" he asked, as if I was really stupid. "If I wanted to go after it, I certainly wouldn't have brought it to you." He thought for a minute. "If we all determine that you need the physical painting, then take it, but I've looked it over. You're not going to want it."