“It wasn’t a pleasure ride if that’s what you mean. But it did change my life.”
He had ended up in a juvenile pilot program and was shipped off to a scared straight camp where he met Cole and Tyler. “The lessons of the camp didn’t really stick,” he said. “But the friendship did.”
“In other words, three of the most upstanding businessmen in Chicago aren’t that upstanding, after all.”
“I’d say that was accurate,” he acknowledged with a grin. “Not as much for me anymore. I’ve been selling off my share of our more shady enterprises to Cole and Tyler. And I’ve been legitimizing my own operations. To be honest, I’ve reached the point where I get just as much of a rush from negotiating a hard bargain with a competitor as I do from stealing his assets when he’s not looking. Maybe more.”
“Why?”
“Why is there a rush?”
“Why are you going straight?”
“You met her,” he said. “Ivy.”
I nodded, but I still didn’t understand. “Why now?”
“Because my mother died. When she was alive, I knew that Ivy would always have family. But now that she’s gone, I want to guarantee that I’m not going to be serving time in a minimum security cell when she needs me.”
“But even if you get clean, they can still arrest you.”
He laughed. “Thanks for the reality check.”
I cringed. “Sorry. It’s just that I remember what it was like when they put me in that cell. And the idea of having you arrested—freaks me out.”
He reached for my hand. “It freaks me out, too. That’s the point. That’s why I want out.”
“Evan—” His name felt delicious. The world felt delicious. And, yeah, I was still a little bit scared for him, but so long as he was really getting out …
“What are you thinking?” he asked, and I realized my brow was furrowed.
“Just that if you’re getting out, then you probably are safe. I mean, if everything you’ve done was white collar, they probably don’t care about stuff that’s old news, right? And eventually the statute of limitations will run out. Won’t it? I mean that’s all we’re talking about, right? White collar stuff?”
He nodded.
“So what do you do? Or, I guess I should ask, what did you do?”
“We started out with petty stuff, but we expanded into everything from smuggling to money laundering to backroom gambling. No drugs—that’s our line in the sand. And, once we hooked up with your uncle, we went a bit more high class. He introduced us to the world of art. Including the underworld of art.”
“Wait. Wait, back up. What? Uncle Jahn?” I couldn’t quite believe what he was saying. “Uncle Jahn was tied up with you three?”
“The other way around, baby. Your uncle was our mentor, and pretty much the smartest man I know. That class he taught? He used it as a front. It was a legit class, but if he was working with someone, he’d slide them into the class to establish a reason to be seen together. It worked beautifully, and no one was ever the wiser.”
“How long was he doing it?” I asked. I realized that I’d slid off the bed and was pacing the length of the small room.
“About eight years on the classes, but decades with the smuggling and forgeries and everything else. From what he told us, he started dabbling in art theft when he was about thirteen.”
“Holy shit.” There was a chair tucked in under a small desk. I pulled it out and flopped down onto it.