The taxi driver pulled up in front of a black building with flashy red lights that said “peep show.” Wes shook his head at the sight and slipped the driver his money before he climbed out of the car. A small alley split the two buildings, and Dimitri stood at the entrance, one shoulder propped against the stone building. He checked his watch, nodded at the alley where a car was parked. Wes followed Dimitri into the shadows.
“What did you find out?” he asked as he joined the other man at the back of the car. It was a nondescript sedan that held little attention for anyone who might pass by.
Dimitri smiled, but it was a grim expression. “I have discovered a most interesting connection to the Goya.” He fished out a pair of car keys from his suit pocket and opened up the trunk of the car. In
