by Reed, Terri
She was glad he had left the artifact whatever his reason and the relief was so overwhelming she almost wept. She prayed the damage done wasn’t too extensive.
“Okay, young lady, I think you’re safe to go home, but I want you to take it easy. Lots of rest and plenty of water. You came in here with not only a nasty bonk on the head but you were dehydrated, as well.”
She grimaced. Now that she thought about it, she remembered she hadn’t eaten or drunk anything yesterday, except a cup of coffee. She tended to skip meals when she was working. “Yeah, I’ll try to do better.”
“No try. Do.”
She laughed, the motion sending a ball of pain ricocheting through her skull but she held her smile in place. “Okay, Doctor.”
He smiled. “I’ll have Cindy retrieve your clothes and initiate the discharge papers. Do you have someone to drive you home?”
Considering she didn’t own a car, she would have to call a friend to pick her up and take her to the home. Or she could take public transit, her normal mode of transportation. “I’ll figure it out. Thank you, Doctor Evans.”
With a nod, he left the room. Almost immediately Adam and his partner were striding back through the door. Dog and man moved as one unit with synchronized lethal grace. A daunting pair.
Her smile faded. “You have more questions?”
“I’m sure I will.”
She blew out a breath of frustration as Adam halted at the foot of her bed. Ace, however, came to her bedside and laid his nose next to her so she could pet him. She found the rhythmic motion soothing. Was that why the dog had come to her? To soothe her?
Adam frowned at the dog but didn’t reprimand him. “The doctor says you’ll be discharged within the hour. Ace and I will take you home.”
Hearing his name, Ace sat at attention, looking at his master.
“Ace,” she murmured. “That’s a fitting name.”
Something she couldn’t identify flickered in Adam’s eyes. “I thought so, too.”
Holding his gaze, she said, “I have a friend I can call to take me home.”
“Actually, if you’re up to it, I’d like to take you to the museum, then home,” he said. “I’d like you to verify there is nothing missing.”
Her heart gave a nervous thump. “Gladly.”
Despite her relief that nothing had been stolen, she couldn’t stop the shiver of anxiety from slithering down her spine. Because if the intruder’s intent had been to kill her...then he might come back to finish the job.
* * *
Adam drove through the midmorning DC traffic with Lana secured in the passenger seat. They were on their way to the museum. She hadn’t said much other than a polite thank-you when he opened the passenger door for her.
He slid a glance her way, liking her profile. She’d tied her long dark hair back in a low ponytail, which gave him a clear view of her straight nose, high cheekbones and the proud jut of her chin.
From this vantage, he couldn’t see the bandage but the bloodstains on the collar of her white blouse reminded him of the trauma she’d suffered.
He parked at an angle next to a patrol cruiser outside the entrance to the museum. After releasing Ace from the back, he escorted Lana inside. Ace walked between them.
A dozen or so uniformed patrol officers nodded in acknowledgement of a fellow law enforcement officer and gave Lana curious stares as she, Adam and Ace walked into the main lobby.
Adam had never visited this particular museum. He was immediately struck with the interesting way the wall art and the display cases were arranged, allowing a flowing progression through history. Solid white marble walls and matching floor provided a nondescript backdrop, which emphasized the colors of the artwork.
“Nice,” he said.
Lana caught his gaze. The beaming smile on her face full of pride made his heart jerk like the muscle had taken a direct hit from the business end of a Taser.
“We’ve worked really hard to make this a premier museum to rival the others in the city.” She touched his arm, the contact setting off a firestorm shooting up his arm beneath the thick cotton material of his uniform. She jerked her hand away as if she, too, had felt the current of electricity. Must be the static in the air from the spring storm.
She laced her fingers together in front of her. “If it were not for the Carroll family, this museum wouldn’t be here.”
“Carroll family?” he murmured more to keep her talking than from real interest. In his experience when people got on a verbal roll they tended to divulge aspects of themselves they wouldn’t normally share.
“Really?” Her eyes lit up. “Daniel Carroll was one of three commissioners appointed by General George Washington to survey and define the District of Columbia. The Carrolls owned land in Maryland, and Daniel strongly advocated locating the nation’s capital on the banks of the Potomac.”
Her face glowed with animation as she went on to tell him about the Carrolls’ descendants buying the building and forming a nonprofit foundation to start the museum. The joy in her voice squeezed Adam’s lungs, wringing out all the air as though he’d run a twenty-block foot chase.
Maybe getting her to open up on a subject she was so passionate about wasn’t the best idea since he got too easily wrapped up in her voice and could forget his purpose.
Out of the corner of his eye Adam spotted Detective David Delvecchio of the DC Police Department coming toward them.
Lana’s monologue tapered off for a moment before she breathed out, “It’s gone.”
Adam followed her gaze to an empty display case where a bed of red velvet sparkled with splinters of glass. Little plastic yellow markers were set in a circle around the case. As he led Lana closer, Adam noted bright red blood sprinkled on the floor amongst shards of glass. Lana’s blood.
“What do you have?” Adam asked as the detective halted in front of them.
David’s mouth lifted at one corner. “Former Special Agent Adam Donovan. Didn’t realize we’d invited the K-9 unit to the party.”
Adam flinched at the reminder of his past. He could feel Lana’s curious gaze on his face like an itch, but he refused to scratch. “This break-in may be related to an active investigation of ours.”
After giving Lana an interested once-over, David bounced his gaze back to Adam, a question in his eyes.
“Where’s the arrow?” Lana asked, drawing David’s attention back to her.
Knowing he had to tread lightly to ensure cooperation, Adam said, “This is Lana Gomez.”
David’s eyes widened then narrowed. “I see. The artifact is with the crime scene technicians.” He turned his sharp-eyed gaze on Adam. “You poaching the case, Donovan?”
“More like hoping we can work together.” Adam kept his voice neutral. “As I said, part of an open investigation.”
If push came to shove, Adam knew Captain McCord would involve the woman who’d formed the K-9 unit, the president’s special in-house security chief, General Margaret Meyer. The former four-star general would have no problem taking the case away from the local PD if necessary. Adam, however, preferred to keep interagency relations on good terms.
David cocked an eyebrow. “Ah, you show me yours, I’ll show you mine?”
Adam’s lips twitched. “Something like that.”
David’s attention transferred back to Lana. “I’m sure you’ve already filled my friend, here, in, but we like to conduct our own interviews. Are you up to giving your statement to an officer?”
Lana nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Garrison,” David called to a young uniformed officer. “Take Miss Gomez’s statement.”
Once Lana was out of earshot, David said, “Spill.”
“There’s a connection between Miss Gomez and the Jeffries case,” Adam went on to explain.
David grimaced. “Nasty business.”
Motioning for Adam and Ace to follow him to the back of the museum, the detective pointed to a spot on the gleaming white marble floor beneat
h an oil painting of the Capitol building. Black scuff marks showed in stark contrast, clearly indicating a struggle.
“The intruder came up behind the security guard and placed him in a choke hold,” David continued. “Guard passed out and dropped like a bag of stones in the Potomac.”
Adam frowned as he surveyed the area. The guard would have seen the intruder coming. Did that mean he knew his attacker? But for a choke hold to work, the guard would have had his back turned on the intruder. More pieces of the puzzle that weren’t fitting together. “Has the guard been released from the hospital?”
“Yes, he was released last night. He suffered no ill effects from the attack. Right now he’s in the security office with my officers.”
“I’d like a moment with him. How did the intruder enter?”
“The perp bypassed the security system by jerry-rigging a bladeRF radio device to the system’s keypad and jamming the signal while providing a phony rogue cell network for the keypad to latch on to. So when the intruder entered and the alarm sent a signal, it didn’t really go anywhere, which allowed the intruder to enter undetected.”
Keeping Ace at his heels, Adam headed for the smashed display case where a short man wearing the blue coveralls of the crime scene unit was placing the artifact back on its velvet bed. “This is where the intruder attacked Miss Gomez.”
“Our best guess is she interrupted the unidentified suspect before he could take the arrow.” David pointed to the red spots on the floor. “He hit her over the head and knocked her out. The intruder didn’t get what he was after because the security guard came to and managed to pull the fire alarm.”
Adam studied the long gold arrow; it certainly didn’t look like any archery arrow he’d ever used. The pointed pile had a wide base that narrowed to a tip, much like a Native American arrowhead that appeared sharp enough to pierce skin. The gold-plated shaft measured roughly an inch in diameter and the fletching, normally consisting of feathers to give the arrow wings, was made from delicately pounded gold filigree. “I don’t see any blood on it.”
“Should there be?”
“Miss Gomez claims he hit her with the arrow.” Adam’s gaze went to where she stood in her serviceable navy pumps. Though the heels were low and her navy blue skirt dropped to just above her knees, he found his gaze drawn to her shapely calves. Did she cycle? Or run? Or was she naturally toned? He gave a quick shake of his head to clear his thoughts. Her exercise regimen wasn’t any of his business.
David’s eyebrows hitched upward. In response to Adam’s statement or to the fact Adam had been staring at Lana? He tugged at the collar of his uniform shirt.
With a slight curl of his lip, David waved over a crime scene technician. “Did you find blood on the arrow?”
The tech shook his head. “No. No blood.”
Adam’s gaze slid back to Lana. Suspicion snarled inside his chest. Had she lied to him? Or had the intruder cleaned up after himself? He rubbed his chin. The perpetrator of the break-in had the technical know-how to bypass a state-of-the-art security system and was physically capable of taking out an armed guard. Both suggested the intruder had training that went beyond the norm. It was plausible the trespasser would have the smarts to wipe away trace evidence.
“I found a latent print, though. I used an alternate light source to find it and then ran a photograph of the print through the FBI’s and the DC fingerprint databases and got a hit.”
The tech’s words jolted through Adam. Blood rushed to his head, making his temples pound. This was good news.
“Do you have an ID?” David asked.
“Yes, sir.” The tech held out a printed sheet of paper. David took the paper and studied it for a long tense moment. His jaw firmed. The hard glint in his eyes as he lifted his gaze and handed Adam the sheet sent apprehension sliding through him.
Adam stared at the photo identification of the person who had last touched the Golden Arrow. His stomach sank to his toes.
Lana Gomez.
THREE
The muscles in Adam’s hand convulsed, crumpling the paper with Lana’s photo. A cold draft of air swirled through the museum, settling around him like a dark cloak. Outside, rain pinged irritating little drops of water against the overhead skylight. Lana’s soft voice echoed off the marble walls. He wasn’t sure what to think about this new development.
Someone had broken into the museum, hit Lana on the head and knocked her unconscious. Her wound was not self-inflicted. She claimed the attacker used the arrow. But the CSU tech found no blood on the artifact. Only Lana’s fingerprint.
“Recheck the thing for blood,” David directed the tech.
“Okay, but I’m telling you, there isn’t any.” Reclaiming the arrow, the tech walked away to reexamine the piece.
Adam’s gaze zeroed in on Lana. Even across the room, her fatigue was evident in the way she rubbed at her neck as if to massage away a knot. She finished giving her statement to the officer and slowly made her way to Adam’s side. She stared at the broken glass littering the floor, her arms wrapped around her middle.
She lifted her eyes and met his gaze. The bruising beneath the edges of the bandage covering her lovely face clutched at him and he fought to keep from running his hands over her arms to soothe away her upset.
Ace moved to her side and leaned into her so that Lana’s long, tapered fingers could rub the sweet spot behind his ears.
Normally his partner was reticent to let others touch him. By nature Dobermans were energetic and could be friendly when they were comfortable. But Ace was also fierce and loyal and intimidating, especially when working.
Most of the time, people were too nervous to broach petting the dog, let alone the dog allowing attention from strangers. Adam wasn’t even sure Lana realized what she was doing or how unique it was for Ace to seek out her touch. By the way Ace’s eyes rolled in his head the dog obviously enjoyed the contact.
“Ace, heel.”
The dog jumped to attention, sitting at Adam’s side, his ears perked up and his eyes on his master. That was more like it.
“Don’t be angry with him.” Lana’s softly spoken words hit Adam square in the chest. “He’s a good dog.”
“Yes, he is, but we’re working now.”
David cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “Miss Gomez, can you walk us through what happened last night?”
“I just told everything to your officer.”
When David didn’t respond, she glanced at Adam as if looking for support.
He nodded, encouraging her to retell her story. He wanted to hear her version again. Would she stick to her claim the suspect had hit her with the arrow?
She let out a soft, delicate sigh full of resignation. “I was in my office working.” She pointed to the hallway behind them. “I heard a thud then glass breaking. I thought maybe Brad had slipped and fallen. I came out and saw the man dressed in white reaching for the arrow.”
Adam visualized the event unfolding. Most people would have fled in search of a phone to call for help. “How did you try to stop him?”
She licked her lips. He tracked the movement as awareness zipped through him, setting his senses on fire. Not good. Not good at all. He had a cardinal rule to never become emotionally involved in a case; doing so impaired one’s judgment.
He jerked his gaze back to Lana’s eyes in time to see a flare of interest in the dark depths, but then the flame was gone so fast he wouldn’t have been able to stand in court and swear he’d seen the look. Must have been a trick of the lighting inside the museum. Or maybe a stray sunbeam from the overhead skylight. But that couldn’t be since it was raining. He gave himself a mental shake to clear his thoughts and refocused on her words.
“I attacked him. I’ve been taking mixed martial arts classes.”
He dropped his chin and stared at her. He wasn’t sure if she was crazy or brave. Or both. That was the problem with self-defense classes in a gym. People tended to think when the time came they’d
be prepared to act, but reality never followed the patterns learned in a studio class. Especially when it came to offensive moves. “You could have been killed.”
She made a face. “I reacted before I really considered what I was doing.”
He hadn’t pegged her as impulsive.
“Were you the last one to handle the arrow before the break-in?” David asked.
“Handle?” She canted her head. “Yes, I suppose. I’m the one who placed the artifact in the display case earlier this week before the glass barrier was sealed, if that’s what you mean.”
“You told me the intruder hit you with the arrow, isn’t that correct?” Adam watched her closely.
“Yes, that’s right.”
Sharing a dubious glance with David, Adam stated, “There was no blood found on the arrow. Only your prints.”
“What?” Her stunned gaze bounced between him and David. She took a step back. Ace rose to all fours, alert to her obvious tension. Adam gave him a hand signal to sit. Slowly, Ace sat but his gaze stayed intently focused on Lana.
“That doesn’t make sense.” Her voice held a quiver of uncertainty. “He had the arrow in his hand. He used it to hit me and knocked me unconscious.”
“Did the man have gloves on?” David asked.
She blinked. “Yes, he did. White gloves that matched his clothes.”
Her version of the event wasn’t lining up with the facts. Hopefully, the security guard would shed some light on the murky situation.
“Can I speak with Brad?” she asked.
David gave a sharp nod. “This way.”
Adam tugged on Ace’s lead when the dog wouldn’t leave Lana’s side.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” she asked before he had taken two steps.
“I’m reserving judgment,” he offered. It would be bad police work to let her in on what he was thinking.
There was no mistaking the hurt in her expression as she walked past him down the same hall in which David had disappeared. She was much easier to read today than the first time they’d met, but even so, Adam wasn’t sure what to make of her story. The woman was an enigma. Calm and collected to the point of unemotional one minute, then impulsive and expressive the next.
