Palmer chuckled softly. "Need me to tag along with you guys?"


    It was pretty obvious that the vintage paintings missing from Garrick''s ce the other day were


    Horatio''s doing.


    Horatio waved a dismissive hand. "Nah, you wouldn''t get our vibe. You’d just be in the way for me


    and Noe. Just chat with Helen, alright? Make sure everything''s ready for the memorial!"


    Palmer raised an eyebrow. This was the first time someone had told him he''d be a bother!


    But then again, this was Horatio speaking, whose insights as a spiritual practitioner always seemed


    particrly pure. Meeting those clear, earnest eyes, Palmer knew Horatio spoke his mind.


    Ccontent ? exclusive by N?/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.


    It was hard for Palmer to feel offended.


    "Grandma''s out of town, so I''ll handle the preparation. Just get back soon. If you need help, give me


    a buzz," Palmer said, directing thetter part to Noe.


    "Got it, will do."


    Horatio pped Palmer on the shoulder, satisfied, and left with Noe.


    ...


    At Larson Pock’s estate, Larson was almost amused by Old Mrs. Pock, who sat across from


    him, sipping her coffee with an air of indifference.


    "Mrs. Pock, how many times do I have to tell you? Those antiques were meant for the auction!"


    "Larson, we both know the true origins of those items. Don''t make me report you."


    "They were all legitimately bought with my own money. How can they be tainted? If it weren''t for


    Palmer ruining my business, I wouldn''t even be selling these things!"


    Helen didn’t even bother to lift her drooping eyelids. "I''ve made myself clear, Larson. I''m taking


    those items. You know very well whether they''re yours to keep."


    Larson was at his wit''s end!


    The moment Helen stepped in, she insisted on iming all the antiques Larson treasured from his


    storeroom. When Larson resisted, Helen threatened to report him on the spot, her phone already


    poised to dial the Cultural Heritage Agency!


    "Ma’am, those vases came through clean deals, you can''t just nder me like this!"


    Helen offered a faint smile. "Vases from 18th century, adorned with borate designs and patterns.


    You’re saying they came through clean channels? As far as I know, such items belong in museums.


    Exactly how ''clean'' are your sources? Raiding museums?"


    Larson’s expression soured. "Those are my lifelines. If you take them, I can''t go through with the


    auction tomorrow!"


    "I care not. I''vee for them, and I will take them. Otherwise, enjoy your time behind bars."


    Helen left Larson with no other choice.


    Suddenly, thumps echoed from the ceiling.


    Larson looked up towards the noise, only to hear Helen''s sarcastic remark, "Oh dear, seems you''ve


    really hit rock bottom, hosting rats in your home."


    "Ma’am, I really can''t just hand these over for nothing!"


    As Helen listened intently to the noises, she elegantly sipped her coffee.


    "Let''s see the goods then. If they''re not up to par, I don''t want them. If they are, I''ll pay you half the


    market price."


    Hearing Helen haggle from above, Noe''s lips curled into a smile.


    "Never would''ve guessed Grandma Helen had it in her."


    Horatio shrugged, hisrge frame carefully tucked in the narrow passage.


    "That’s nothing. Ever since Helen went straight, she''s been a top consultant for the Cultural


    Heritage Agency, even got amnesty. Let''s get moving, time to grab the goods."


    Helen knew all too well the unpredictability of their line of work. So, she gracefully epted the


    government''s offer, leveraging her expertise in antiques at the Cultural Heritage Agency. Whatever


    Larson had, Helen knew its true origins better than anyone.


    As the sound faded, Helen''s lips slightly curled.


    Noe and Horatio made their way to where Larson stored his antiques.


    "Monk, over there."


    "Right on."


    Noe removed a hairpin and expertly inserted its end into the security port, her muscles flexing


    slightly as she dismantled the camera, causing a brief system ckout.


    Without looking back, Horatio skillfully swapped Larson’s genuine antiques with replicas, cing a


    newly procured vase back on the shelf.


    As footsteps approached, Noe signaled to Horatio. They quickly returned to the roof’s passage,


    pressing against the wall to conceal themselves.


    The security system rebooted as if nothing had happened, the brief glitch seeming like a mere


    illusion.


    Larson opened the storage room, nced at the blinking surveince camera, and breathed a sigh


    of relief.


    "Ma’am, please, pick whatever you like. But those items you mentioned earlier, I really can’t let go!


    Palmer should at least leave me a way out! We''re family, aren''t we?"


    Helen scoffed, "Family? Don’t make me regretst year’s Thanksgiving dinner."


    She approached the shelf, tracing her fingers along the vase''s surface, then suddenly smiled. She


    could tell at a touch whether the items were genuine or fake. Clearly, Horatio had emptied the ce


    of all genuine articles in the past few days! The antiques Larson had pinned his hopes on were


    nothing but forgeries!


    Helen snorted coldly. "Larson, you better watch yourself."


    With that, she turned and left, not sparing Larson another nce.


    Larson was baffled but figured Helen was just being her unpredictable self again. As long as she


    wasn''t demanding items from him now, it was a relief. He then called for Luther. "For tomorrow''s


    auction, ensure Palmer and Sexton are invited. I n to turn the tables in front of them, show them


    once and for all who really calls the shots in the Pock family!"


    "Understood."


    ...


    At the Pock Mansion, Horatio rubbed his hands together, his gaze lingering on the antiques


    scattered around his room, a big grin spreading across his face.


    Unable to hide her bemusement, Noe quipped, "Monk, your approach to spirituality is certainly


    unique. Why not just dig up an ancient burial site and set up camp there? It''d be vintage and


    authentic, even the graves would be centuries old."


    Horatio pressed his palms together in a gesture of respect. "Noe, you just don''t get it. This is my


    path of enlightenment. Sending these items to auction means countless children could afford to go


    to school, dress in warm new clothes!"


    Horatio''s path to enlightenment was centered on one crucial principle: robbing the corrupt rich to aid


    the destitute poor!


    "Before that, let me truly appreciate these items, the essence of our ancestors'' legacy!"


    Horatio’s serene expression as he held a vase in one hand and an ancient painting in the other


    prompted a slight twitch at the corners of Noe’s mouth.


    Luckily, she had grown ustomed to Horatio''s antics.


    Thinking about how the antiques in storage had been swapped for replicas, Noe cracked a smile


    herself.


    "I''m really looking forward to the auction tomorrow. Can''t wait to see the look on Larson''s face!"