Chapter Text
Jack couldn’t help bursting into laughter at the look on Davey’s face during his conversation with Sarah.
“Saz, Saz…I…no, no I didn’t…how was I supposed to know that? No, I can’t just…Sarah, it’s FBI…definitely not! No, no…I…Sarah, I’m at work, I need…Saz we’ll get dinner or something, okay? No, I…he isn’t even arrested! Just here for questioning! I…fine. Why would I do that? No…fine, fine, I’ll ask. Fine. Okay. See you tonight, then. My…fine.”
Sarah hung up first, Jack noticed. Davey let out a deep sigh and pressed his fingers to his eyes.
“Sounds like your sister’s mad at you.”
“She…how was I supposed to know that her girlfriend changed her last name? And, anyway, it’s like I can just…not bring a guy in for questioning because my sister is dating his daughter!”
“No, no, I’m on your side. It’s just funny, is all.”
“Well, you’re coming to dinner.”
“What?”
“She…I don’t know, I agreed without thinking, okay! She knows that you’re working with me and she wants you to come to dinner and I said yes.”
“Do you talk about me to your family?” Jack asked.
“They’ve heard bits and pieces.”
“You’ve complained about me to them, you mean.”
“Just a little.” Davey smiled a little, then looked back at Pulitzer and sighed. “I should finish this interrogation, huh?”
“Prolly.”
“Ugh.”
However Jack had imagined getting invited to Davey’s apartment (not that he had imagined that, no way no how) it was not to have dinner with his sister and her girlfriend after handing the FBI the folder that had gotten the girlfriend’s dad brought to an interrogation room.
That was how it went, though, and he couldn’t really do anything about it. Davey looked like he had a migraine when he handed Jack his address scribbled on a piece of notebook paper, and Jack felt bad enough for him that he didn’t point out he could have just texted it to Jack.
He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be nervous about meeting Sarah and her girlfriend or not. Davey seemed like he was, at least a little bit. Not like he regretted bringing Pulitzer in, but like he was anticipating whatever was coming at dinner but not looking forward to it.
His apartment was much nicer than Jack’s.
Jack’s building, even from the outside, was obviously old and kind of falling apart. The door frames swelled when it was humid, the paint was always cracking no matter how many times Jack painted over it, there was water damage on every ceiling he’d seen. It was a good place to live in a lot of ways, he wasn’t complaining, he liked most of his neighbors and the location and definitely the price, but it wasn’t luxury living. At all.
Neither was Davey’s building, really. It was just nicer than Jack’s, was all. Neat and clean, in every way. Nicely painted walls, no random holes, or cracks. No water damage.
Davey’s apartment itself was very predictable, really. It almost made Jack laugh when he was let in. Very beige and pale blue, very simple and neat. Kind of exactly the opposite of Jack’s taste, which was busy and bright and far from sensible.
Davey was busy cooking, and he hadn’t told Jack he couldn’t look around, so that’s what Jack was doing.
The apartment didn’t look unlived in, which Jack would have expected before getting to know Davey better. There were a lot of plants, a lot of books, family pictures hanging on the walls, but it was clear that everything had its place and everything was in its place, and Jack was pretty much positive that it wasn’t because he had company coming, but because that was the type of person Davey was.
By the window, there was something that Jack thought at first was just a kind of weird table, but when he got closer, he realized it was a big terrarium. A heat lamp at one end, some kind of wood chips covering the bottom, and tree branches leaning up against the sides. There were a few other things scattered around it, like a big dish full of water and a little box with a hole in the side, but it took a few seconds of looking to spot the animal.
Not to lie, he jumped a little when a snake stuck its head out of the box and blinked up at him.
Davey laughed from behind him.
“His name is Galileo.”
“I would not, in a million years, have guessed that you have a pet snake. You seem like a cat person.”
“I have a cat, too. She’s hiding because she doesn’t like people. I like snakes though. He’s shedding, that’s why he’s hiding. Normally he’d be out and about.”
“He’s…cute.”
“Very convincing lie, there, Mr. Kelly.”
“I’m trying to be supportive but I grew up checking for rattlesnakes every time I set foot outside.”
“He isn’t a rattlesnake, he’s a corn snake. Not even venomous, and his teeth are so tiny you can barely tell when he bites you.”
Jack looked at Davey, trying to see if he was joking about having been bit by his own pet snake before.
“My sister will be here any minute. You mind helping me set the table?”
“Not at all.” Jack stood up from his crouch. “I’m a pro at hosting dinner parties.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I’ve told you before, Dave, being an artist is all about the schmooze. Hosting is a key component of that. The art of a good place setting. The perfect wine to pair with a nice sharp cheese.”
“Just put plates on the table, Shakespeare, we’re talking about my sister, not high-class art dealers.”
“And her girlfriend. Whose dad you arrested.”
“Whose dad you collected evidence on and you’re accusing of being an art criminal.”
“Ah, but Davey, I don’t have any power here. I’m but a suspect whose skills you decided to make use of, you’re the one with the badge and ability to call people in for questioning.” Jack grinned at Davey, who just rolled his eyes.
“Plates are in the cabinet by the microwave.”
Jack laughed and pulled down four plates.
“So, tell me about your sister and her girlfriend.”
“Sarah and Katherine. Sarah is my twin sister, she’s an art teacher-“
“You didn’t tell me your sister was an artist? Rude, Davey.”
“I didn’t really plan on you meeting my family, so I didn’t think it was relevant. Katherine is a journalist, they’ve been dating for a year and a half, I think.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“I have a friend named Katherine who’s a journalist.”
“Small world.”
“What’s your sister’s Katherine look like?”
“Red hair, freckles, blue eyes.”
“Bangs? Always has a pencil behind her ear? Trust fund baby with a heart of gold?”
“Oh my god.”
Jack started laughing.
“I knew Pulitzer looked familiar, and I never would have placed it, but Katherine looks like her dad. I’m friends with your sister’s girlfriend, Davey, I could have met your sister without it even being through you.”
“How do you know every single person in all of New York?”
“Katherine is my cool ex.”
“What? She’s gay.”
“And Jack Kelly was my last-ditch attempt to prove to myself that I wasn’t. Hi, Davey.”
Katherine Plumber (Pulitzer?) and Sarah Jacobs had entered the apartment without either Jack or Davey noticing.
Sarah was very immediately obviously Davey’s sister. The same dark hair, similar facial features, a similar smile.
Katherine was exactly how she’d been last time she and Jack had hung out. Thinking about it, she’d definitely mentioned a girlfriend then and had maybe even called her Sarah, and Jack hadn’t connected the dots. At all.
It was strikingly obvious, now, almost obvious enough that Jack felt bad for not realizing sooner why Pulitzer was so familiar. Katherine had her father’s eyes, his nose, and jawline, even some of his posture. It all worked better for her, though, making Katherine come across as poised and beautiful instead of her father’s weird capitalist energy.
“You’re telling me that you got arrested for art theft? I’ve seen you fall over your own feet trying to walk across your own apartment in broad daylight.”
“I was never arrested, Davey just thinks I’m a prolific art forger in my copious amount of spare time.”
“Oh, I guess I can see that. Didja do it?”
“Nah.”
“Shame. Would really stick it to the rich assholes to replace their precious art with your own.”
“Hear that, Davey? She gets it.”
“Gets what? The appeal of committing felonies?”
“God, who doesn’t sometimes?”
Jack high fived Katherine, both of them laughing.
Davey looked like he was getting a headache.
This was going to be a more fun dinner than Jack had anticipated for sure.
Davey had made pasta.
It was funny, the more Jack got to know him, the more he realized that he was half exactly how Jack had thought of him and half completely different. Davey Jacobs, snake owner, and also man who made pasta and Alfredo sauce from a jar for supper.
Not that it was bad. It tasted good, and smelled good, and was a great dinner. It was just simple, and not very exciting.
He wasn’t very good at keeping a conversation going, really. Maybe he was just nervous that his sister was mad at him, but Davey mostly listened to the other three talk.
Jack was having a wonderful time. Katherine was one of the friends who he didn’t see all that often but never failed to have a good time with. She was witty and funny and matched Jack’s energy.
She had been far, far out of Jack’s league when they’d dated, and she still was.
Sarah Jacobs was her match, though. Without a doubt.
Jack liked her. He thought it was funny that she and Davey were siblings, considering the fact that Sarah was honestly a lot more similar to Jack than Davey, but he liked her.
It was a nice dinner.
“So, Davey, you gonna explain why you arrested my dad.”
“It was Jack’s idea.”
“Okay, to be clear, I one hundred percent did not tell you to arrest him.”
“You handed me a folder full of evidence-“
“Evidence of what?” Katherine put her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands.
Jack knew her well enough to know that the light in her eyes was humor.
She wasn’t upset about this. At all. She was totally teasing Davey.
“I…crimes.”
And it was making Davey very flustered.
“What kind of crimes?”
“That’s….I can’t…I’m not allowed to say that.”
“Art crimes,” Jack stage whispered. “Lots and lots of art crimes.”
“Jack, you can’t-“
“Hey, I don’t actually work for the FBI. Pretty sure I didn’t even sign a contract.”
“You did, actually. You’re a consultant.”
“Oh. Well. Too late.” Jack grinned at Davey.
“I’ll fire you.”
“You won’t. I’ve grown on you too much for that.”
“You overestimate yourself.”
“Nah. I’m a real charmer, right, Kat?”
“Oh, the most charming person on the planet. Just so smooth. What was it you said to me the first night we met again? I seem to recall a very smooth pickup line somewhere along the lines of, ‘before you ask, it did hurt when I fell from heaven.’”
“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”
“Because I was desperate.”
“Ouch. You wound me so.”
They didn’t really get that much talking about Katherine’s father done. Every time they got there, the conversation got derailed by Jack or Katherine saying something stupid that made the other laugh and shoot off down a sidetrack.
God, Jack had missed Katherine. Why didn’t they hang out more? She was so fun.
By the time all four of them had finished eating, Davey looked slightly confused and just a little bit frustrated, and Jack, Katherine, and Sarah were all smiling. Sarah picked up the plates and carried them to the sink, insisting that she’d take care of it, Davey, sit down.
Jack followed with the serving bowls.
He was nothing if not helpful, after all, as he reminded Davey with a smile, only to be rewarded with a laugh from Katherine and an eye roll so impressive it looked like it hurt from Davey.
Davey’s apartment wasn't huge, but it was definitely bigger than Jack’s. The kitchen was actually separate from the rest of the apartment, not just tucked against a wall in the living room, and so when Jack and Sarah were at the sink, Jack could hear Davey and Katherine talking but not quite make out what they were saying.
“It seems like we should have met before now, doesn’t it?” Sarah said conversationally, starting to wash dishes and pass them to Jack to draw.
“It kinda does, yeah.”
“I mean, not only are you my girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend turned best friend, but we’ve crossed paths before. Ships passing in the night. Not romantically, of course, just…you know. It seems like somewhere along the line we should have met for real.”
“Ships passing in the night?”
“Well, we’ve had works displayed in the same galleries at the same time before, but were never at the same events.”
“Hang on, you’re an artist?”
“A sculptor, mostly. A few of those uptown modern art galleries like some of what I’ve done-“
“Oh, the pretentious spaceship ones.”
“What?”
“You know, the ones that are all white and shiny. Like Star Trek. Spaceship galleries.”
Sarah laughed.
“Yeah, sure, I guess. Spaceship galleries.”
“I’ve probably seen your stuff, then. Guess I definitely have.”
“I’ve seen yours. I like Symphony in Spring.”
“Really? That one’s been up for years and nobody seems to want to buy it.”
“People with the money to afford real art rarely have good taste.”
“Wise words, Ms. Jacobs, wise words.”
“I’m pretty sure we know each other through somebody else, too.”
“Oh?”
“Mm.” Sarah dropped her voice to almost a whisper, quiet enough that neither of the people in the other room would be able to hear her even if they were trying. “Who would have guessed that the cowboy business in New York would be booming the way it is?”
“I…I have no idea what that means. I painted a-“
“Listen, Cowboy, you don’t have to keep the act up with me. You don’t even have Davey fooled, he’s just willing to ignore it because he thinks you aren’t dangerous, couldn’t care less about art forgery as a crime, and wants your help. I’m pretty sure he knows all about my side hustle, and he hasn’t said a word. Of course, familial loyalty runs strong between us, so that might be why. But with you…he just likes you enough that he doesn’t care.”
“Your…side hustle?”
Sarah touched a pin attached to the right strap of her overalls, looking at Jack expectantly.
He hadn’t paid much attention to all the designs of pins she was wearing, and had barely noticed this one. It was a small enamel pin, almost perfectly the width of the strap. A bright green moth with long wings and silver detailing.
“Actias luna. Also known as-“
“Luna moth.”
“Exactly.”
“Augustine. Marks. Kasmin.”
“All of the above.”
Jack couldn’t help but let out a little, startled laugh.
Out of everybody in New York City, out of the entire goddamn city, Luna Moth was Special Agent David Jacobs’s sister.
It wasn’t like Jack had crossed paths with her all that often. After all, he had his team well and truly established. A regular heist team setup, a real Oceans Eleven deal, and he didn’t often need to dip his toe back into the heist talent pool of New York.
Three times, the galleries he’d just listed off and she’d just agreed to, three times he’d had to look for somebody other than Albert or one of his to do the actual cat burglary.
Albert had been the one to tell him about Luna Moth, a thief with a reputation as sterling as his own and who was as good at getting in and out quietly as anybody really could be, and so Jack had reached out and hired her and everything had gone perfectly.
And he’d never met her. Why would he? He usually only met people once they were a frequent and well-established part of his team, not substitutes for jobs that had to be done while Albert was visiting his mom upstate.
But she was good. Really good.
And also the sister of the agent in charge of investigating the very crimes she’d helped Jack commit (although only one of those galleries had had Jack’s forgery discovered and it wasn’t on the list Davey kept showing to Jack, so it didn’t look like she was in any danger of being connected to Jack).
“That’s fucking hilarious, you know that, right?”
“Oh, believe me, Kat and I were overjoyed to find out that you were working for him. That’s also hilarious, you know.”
“Oh, you know I know it, we all laugh about it all the time.”
“You haven’t been very active recently, though. Not using your newfound FBI insider knowledge to commit better crimes?”
“I’ve been a little bit busy with the whole being on Davey’s side for once thing. And, actually, with a pretty fucking gigantic commission that’s living hell.”
“You’re sure you’re not turning fed on accident?”
“Pretty sure I’d lose like at least half of my meaningful relationships if I did that.”
“Not necessarily. I mean, look at me. I’m doing pretty well for myself in your world and my brother is a fed.”
“Doesn’t that make you nervous?”
“Nah. Davey’s cool. He really, really doesn’t care about art crime when he isn’t paid to do it. And he isn’t being paid to investigate me, so I’m good.”
“Good to know. Too late, but good to know.”
“And like I said, he doesn’t even want to arrest you anymore because you’re useful.” Sarah rinsed the last bowl and passed it to Jack. “And he can’t prove anything, because your team is too good for that.”
“Damn straight.”
“Anyway. There’s also the small matter of you arresting the wrong man.”
“He has a lot of interesting coincidences, then.”
“Oh, he’s a total bastard. I’m sure you remember some of Katherine’s stories about her dear old dad, and I’m sure you can imagine how bad it must have been for her to change her name to avoid anyone connecting the two of them. But he’s just an asshole. An egotistical, immoral, rich bastard, with nothing better to do than cause problems. He isn’t the one running the theft ring.”
“You say that like you know who is.”
“We have a few ideas.”
“We?”
“Come on. You think Katherine has no idea what I get up to at night? We do live together, and you know how smart she is. She’s a journalist, Jack, and I have a lot of ins in the criminal underworld. We help each other out. Just like you and Davey. As soon as he started talking about this guy, we both sent out our feelers, and they collided in a few places.”
“Jeez. We should cross-reference feelers, then.”
“Here’s the thing. Davey can’t know any of this, obviously.”
“I thought you said he was cool.”
“He’s cool, but if I walked up to him and said hey bro, I steal things a lot and have a lot of friends who commit felonies on the daily, he’d have to do something about it. Same with you. He’ll ignore it if he doesn’t have a confession or evidence. So I can give you some information because this guy is giving what we do a bad name and I hate Oscar and Morris Delancey with my entire soul, but you can’t ever even hint that you got it from me or Kat.”
“I am a successful art criminal with more forgeries under my belt than actual art sales and an international network of connections, you know. I try not to brag, but I know how to be discreet.”
“Oh, I know all about you, Cowboy. That’s why I’m offering you my information because I’m ninety-nine percent sure that I can trust you. It’s that one percent that makes me have to tell you. If I get in trouble because of you-“
“You’ll sell me out for plea deal. I get the speech every time I ask anyone for a favor, Sarah, don’t worry about it.”
Sarah laughed at that.
“I think you two getting along this well is dangerous,” Davey said, coming into the kitchen holding his glass. “You know I have a dishwasher, right?”
“You’ve seen my kitchen and you think I would know what to do with a dishwasher? Davey.” Jack shook his head. “I haven’t used a dishwasher since I was sixteen years old.”
“It’s pretty simple, I’m sure you could figure it out.”
Jack still wasn’t used to hearing Davey be funny on purpose.
It seemed that two years of only hearing somebody speak when they were aggressively interrogating you made it pretty hard to adjust to learning that same person’s friendly, casual conversation style.
“Jack’s an idiot and running a dishwasher is beyond his capabilities, actually.” Katherine flicked Jack in the ear walking past him. He kicked her gently in the shin and stuck his tongue out at her.
“So do you two always antagonize each other like fourth graders on the playground?”
“Why be nice when you can make fun of each other endlessly instead?”
Davey shook his head and set his glass down on the counter.
“I’m starting to think that Katherine just wanted me to invite you to dinner so you two could be annoying.”
“I can’t believe you’ve seen through my almost transparent ruse, David, I thought I was so subtle.”
“Subtle as a brick,” Sarah said taking Katherine’s hand and kissing her knuckles. “As always, darling.”
“Thanks, babe.”
“Anyway. Thanks for dinner, Davey.”
“Yeah, I think that made up for arresting my dad. Wanna stop at that ice cream place on the way home, Saz?”
“Sure. Guess I’ll see ya later, Davey.” Sarah winked at Jack before the door closed behind them.
“Should I be worried?” Davey asked dryly.
“Depends. She encouraged me to seduce you, offered to help me commit crimes, and told me that you hate your job, and only one of those was a lie, so if any of the above worry you, then yeah, you should be worried. If they don’t, we’re good.”
“You’re way too similar.”
“Aw, are you gonna tell me I can’t be friends with your sister?”
“I don’t control who Sarah is friends with, and you’re a grown adult.”
“I think that might be the biggest vote of confidence you’ve given me in our entire relationship, Davey.”
“I literally hired you.”
“And in the same breath told me that you just know that I’m doing illegal shit so just please for the love of god leave me out of it and solve this case.”
“I did not-“
“You sound exactly like that, Davey dearest, don’t kid yourself.” Jack wrinkled his nose at Davey and picked up an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter.
“We just ate, and you’re stealing my fruit?”
“Dessert?”
Davey sighed, which Jack took as acceptance and so he took a purposefully obnoxiously loud bite of the apple.
“You’re truly one of the most insufferable people on the planet. I honestly can’t imagine anybody more annoying than you. My little brother was less annoying then you when he was seven.”
“That means more to me than you can possibly imagine.” Jack took another bite of the apple and flashed what he was sure was a disgusting smile before laughing and flipping Davey a one-finger salute on his way out the door.
He had kind of a lot to do, after all.
Sarah and Katherine’s information aside, he had to regroup with Crutchie and also figure out how the hell he was gonna finish Snyder’s mansion when he definitely never ever want to see Joseph Pulitzer again in his life and also really fucking hated the vibe of that place. More than he could say, he never wanted to go back to that house, but he’d already started painting, and quitting halfway through a commission could very well ruin his good name.
Not his bad name, his reputation as Cowboy was exactly what he wanted it to be. But his good name. The recognition he’d only just started to get as Jack Kelly, an artist producing original work.
So he would be going back to that house, and he would be finishing that commission, no matter how much the thought of it made his skin crawl.
If Warren Snyder ended up being nothing more than a nice man, Jack was going to feel like an asshole for how strong his gut reaction to the man was.
He wouldn’t, though. Jack’s gut was very, very rarely wrong when it came to people, especially when he had a reaction this strong.
Whatever was wrong with Snyder, it wasn’t really any of his business, and so he could push through it and get this commission done and then take a long, scaldingly hot bath at Crutchie’s place to get the feeling of him totally off of his body and out of his mind.
For tonight, though…
Hmm.
He’d had a nice dinner, free of charge, seen and old friend and made a new one, learned a new fact that he absolutely couldn’t wait to share with Crutchie.
And Sarah wouldn’t mind him telling Crutchie, would she? Nah, because Crutchie was just about the most trustworthy person in all of New York City and certainly wouldn’t be selling her out, and maybe they’d be able to work together sometime.
Crutchie was pretty much Jack’s only feeler, after all, and he had said they should cross-reference feelers, so telling him almost made sense.
And Jack really, really couldn’t wait to see Crutchie’s reaction to learning that not only had Special Agent David Jacobs hired one of the most prolific art criminals currently active in New York to help him on a case, but his own sister had also aided and abetted said art criminal several times in the past. His own sister was a talented and fairly well-known (in the right circles, anyway) thief.
God.
Jack loved his business.
What other profession in the world could boast such wonderful, wonderful crossovers? Not many, that was for sure.
Annoying the rich, boggling the feds, and learning how deep the so-called corruption went, there was nothing more satisfying.
He very much enjoyed being an art criminal, make no doubt about that. Even if it was stressful at times and even if he could probably end up in prison for the rest of his life with the number of felonies he’s committed.
No way could he claim to have had no intention of defrauding anyone when his forgeries were hanging in museums. No, he’d very much intended to defraud, and he’d done it well, and at least half of his forgeries were still within the New York statute of limitations, which was many, many years in prison.
But even with the pretty much constant worry of being arrested, he enjoyed his work. He enjoyed the pride of knowing his work was good enough to pass as real, and he enjoyed the drama and dynamics between everyone behind the scenes, and he enjoyed the people themselves.
It seemed like every new thing he learned about the business, and make no mistake he would probably never stop learning new things about the business, only made it better.
Special Agent David Jacobs’ own sister. His own flesh and blood sister was a thief. The sister of the person who was closer to nailing Jack than anyone had ever been, was a thief. A cat burglar. Somebody who regularly broke into high-security places and stole things. Including the very pieces of art that Davey himself was tracking down, or at least art on the same level.
That was just so fucking funny. Like unbelievably funny.
Jack loved his job. Really and truly.
He was in a good mood by the time he finally went to bed, a good enough mood that he wasn’t even dreading going back to Snyder’s place in the morning.
Well, maybe a little. But not a lot.
He had to finish the ballroom, and then the other rooms wouldn’t take very long at all. They didn’t require quite so much planning, because he already had sketches for all the bits and pieces he wanted to use. All the cherubs and biblical figures and greek gods and goddesses, a delightful mix of baroque imagery to fill the most pretentious house in all of Manhattan, but because of the style he didn’t need detailed plans. He could judge it by eye and just throw up a bunch of paintings he already had sketched out.
He’d probably end up with several copies of the same cherubs with different color palettes in each room, but who would know that except him? And maybe a particularly perceptive viewer who was looking for it.
Anyway, it didn’t matter. The point was that he was feeling good. He’d be able to get this done, and everything would be great, and Katherine and Sarah would be able to help him track down the real Spider without hopefully ever having to see Pulitzer again, and life would go on.
He’d be able to go back to his life of crime in peace.
It felt pretty good to fall asleep in a good mood. To not have a nightmare, not even one, which was rarer than he really cared to admit. To wake up and sit on his fire escape and watch the sunrise not because he’d woken up and couldn’t fall back asleep, but because he’d fallen asleep at a decent hour and woken up to that soft pre-dawn grayness that always felt so good.
Dinner parties, medicine for the soul. Who would have thought?