“It’s…Tim.”
“Tim Sizemore? The security guard?”
Jane nodded. She took off her glasses and let them swing from the gold chain she wore around her neck. For the first time, Penelope noticed that the woman’s eyes were red from crying. That wasn’t like Jane. She was usually the epitome of composure.
“Jane, what happened to Tim?”
She bit her lip to keep from crying again. “Avery found him this morning. He came in early for a meeting with the general contractor, and he stumbled across Tim’s body in the hallway right outside your office.”
Penelope gasped. “His body? Oh, my God—”
Jane’s grasp tightened on her arm. “No, no. He’s alive. But he’s still unconscious. They don’t…they think he’s going to be okay, but they can’t say for sure, of course.”
She was visibly trembling, and Penelope put an arm around her shoulders. She’d never seen Jane so distraught. “Just take it easy, okay? Does anyone know how it happened?”
Jane shook her head. “Evidently there was a break-in. The police think that Tim caught them in the act, and they knocked him out and left him for dead.” She glanced down the hall toward Penelope’s office. “Avery’s talking to the detective right now. Maybe you’d better join them.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
Jane sniffed. “Yes, I’ll be fine. It’s just such a shock.” She wrung her hands in agitation. “I’ve been through this before, you know.”
Penelope knew that Jane’s husband had died in a tragic accident years ago, but she couldn’t remember the details and Jane rarely talked about it. Obviously, the poor woman had never gotten over the trauma.
“I didn’t realize that you and Tim were so close,” Penelope murmured.
“He doesn’t have any family to speak of, either, and we both get lonely from time to time….” Jane looked away, as if not wanting to reveal the depth of her emotions.
Penelope squeezed her hand. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s tough, you know? He’ll get through this.”
“Yes, I keep telling myself that.” Pulling herself together, she said, “You’d better go talk to Avery.”
As Penelope started down the hallway, she could see that there were people inside her office—at least one uniformed officer, a man in plain clothes whom she assumed was the detective Jane had mentioned, and Avery.
He turned when he heard her approach and motioned for her to join them.
“Jane told you what happened?”
Penelope nodded. “It’s terrible. Poor Tim…I can’t believe someone would do that.”
“I know,” Avery said grimly.
Penelope placed her hand on his arm. “Avery, what about the exhibits? Was anything taken?”
“The exhibits are fine,” he said. “That’s the first thing I checked once the ambulance had left. The damage seems to have been contained to the third floor. To your office, as a matter of fact.”
“My office?” Penelope asked incredulously. Her office had been broken into?
The man in street clothes came around the desk and introduced himself. “Detective Wayne Nevins, HPD.”
“Detective, this is Penelope Moon.” Avery shifted back on his crutches to make room for her. “She’s assistant curator here at the Morehart.”
The detective gave her a brief nod. “This is your office, I’m told.”
“Yes. Do you have any idea how the intruders got past the security system?”
He lifted a brow at her question. “Why do you think there was more than one?”
“I…don’t know,” Penelope stammered, caught off guard. “I just assumed.”
“My guess is, it was a one-man job,” the detective informed her. “It’s possible he came into the museum sometime yesterday with one of the tours. At some point, he could have left the group, come up here and unlocked a window to use later. Either that or he had an inside accomplice.”
An inside accomplice? Penelope’s gaze shot to Avery. She couldn’t help remembering what Tonio Vargas had told her when they met on Tuesday.
“Do you have any idea what the suspect could have been looking for?” the detective queried.
Penelope’s mind switched to her sister earlier that morning frantically searching her bedroom.
She swallowed and shook her head. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. The artifacts and exhibits are kept on the first two floors.”
“Mr. Bennett here tells us that you authenticate and catalog most of the artifacts as they come into the museum. Do you ever bring any of that stuff up here to your office?”
“No, never. I keep all my equipment in a workroom on the second floor.”
“What about personal items? Jewelry, money, anything like that?”
Penelope shook her head. “There’s nothing in here except books, research materials, my computer. I have no idea what the intruder could have been looking for,” she said in all honesty.
The detective shrugged. “Not a lot to go on then, is there?” To Avery, he said, “We’re almost finished in here. We’ve lifted some prints so we’ll need to fingerprint everyone who has access to this room for comparison.”
“Whatever you need, Detective. Just let us know.” Avery put his hand on Penelope’s arm. “In the meantime, we’ll be in my office down the hall.”
He nodded toward the door, and both he and Penelope walked out. Once they were inside his office, he set his crutches aside and sat down behind his desk with a heavy sigh. “What a ghastly morning. Not a great way to welcome you home, is it? What are you doing back so early, by the way?”
“That’s what I need to talk to you about.” Penelope bit her lip. “Avery, something terrible happened while I was in Mexico. I just hope to God it doesn’t have anything to do with the break-in.”
His expression turned grim. “I know about Tonio Vargas’s murder. Manuel’s assistant called me yesterday. She and I have become fairly close during all the negotiations, and she wanted to assure me that she’d received all the paperwork and everything is in order.”
She’d received all the paperwork? How was that possible? Tonio had left the envelope of documents at the restaurant. Penelope had meant to deliver them herself the following day, but she hadn’t had time. Elena must have found them when she packed Penelope’s things and sent them over to her cousin. Penelope started to tell Avery exactly that, but thought better of it. As long as Vargas had received the papers, why make herself sound any more incompetent than she’d been?
“She assured me that in spite of the tragedy, the exhibit will go on as scheduled,” he added.
Did that mean that Tonio hadn’t been able to talk to his father before he’d been murdered? Penelope wondered.
A terrible thought flickered through her mind. Was that the reason he’d been murdered? So that he couldn’t stop the exhibit?
But that didn’t make sense. It was true that the masks were important to the museum. An exhibit like that could put the Morehart on the map, but murder?
“I don’t see how the two incidents could be related,” Avery was saying. “And, frankly, you’re the one I’m worried about here.”
“Me? Why?”
“You look terrible, Penelope. You should take the rest of the day off, go home and try to get some rest.”
The suggestion wasn’t the least bit appealing. The last thing Penelope wanted to do was spend the day brooding in her apartment. “No, I don’t want to do that. I’d rather stay here and work.”
Avery looked relieved. “I was hoping you’d say that because we have a million things to do before Saturday night. We’ve received some late shipments for the auction. The catalogs, of course, went out weeks ago with the invitations, but I was hoping you could go through the boxes, photograph some of the more impressive pieces, and then we could at least add them to the online catalog. We might even send out an e-mail to our donor list.”
Penelope nodded. “Of course. I’ll get right on it.” She was glad to have
something to take her mind off everything that had happened in the past thirty-six hours. Including the murder, her memory lapses, and now a break-in at the museum.
Chapter Thirteen
In spite of the way the morning had started, Penelope ended up having a very productive day. She sequestered herself in the workroom on the second floor, unpacking and cataloging shipments and photographing the late arrivals that would go on the auction block on Saturday night.
The only time she came out was to deliver the digital camera to Jane so that she could upload the photographs to the online catalog, and later that afternoon to inquire about Tim. He’d regained consciousness and his prognosis looked good, but a head wound at his age was nothing to take lightly.
Returning to the workshop, Penelope remained behind closed doors until hunger pains forced her to glance at her watch. She was amazed to find that it was after eight o’clock. The museum had closed two hours ago, and most of the staff would have left shortly afterward.
Even though the security system on the first two floors where the exhibits were located would have been turned on by now and Avery had added an extra guard to the rotation, the museum after hours always gave Penelope a few tingles. She couldn’t resist checking over her shoulder as she walked up the stairs to the third floor to retrieve her purse.
As she strode down the hallway toward her office, her uneasiness deepened. A man had been attacked right outside her door last night. That was enough to give anyone pause, but after everything else Penelope had been through, it was little wonder she was on edge.
She drew a breath and kept walking. She couldn’t avoid her office forever, and besides, she was probably safer here than anywhere else. The assailant wasn’t likely to return to the scene of the crime so quickly. Not with the police watching the museum.
Stepping inside, Penelope turned on the light and surveyed the room. Someone had straightened up while she’d been downstairs. Probably Jane. She was undoubtedly trying to keep busy so she wouldn’t have to dwell on what had happened. The woman obviously had a great deal of affection for Tim, and Penelope knew better than anyone what she was going through.
Grabbing her purse from her desk drawer, she turned off the light and stepped outside to lock her door. Then, as she headed toward the stairs, she noticed that Avery’s door was ajar, and she could see that a light was on inside. She walked over to let him know that she was on her way out, but paused when she realized he was on the phone.
Not wanting to interrupt, she started to turn away, but just then she caught a glimpse of him inside. He had the phone to his ear as he walked over to the window—without his crutches, without a limp.
Penelope quickly stepped back before he saw her, but a metal buckle on her purse scrapped against the wall, and everything went silent inside the office.
Then Penelope heard him say softly, “Hold on. I just heard something in the hallway…”
Penelope looked around for someplace to hide, although she wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t afraid of Avery, was she?
As quietly as she could, she slipped down the hallway to her office. She still had her key in her hand and she pretended to fiddle with the lock as she listened for Avery.
When he called out her name, she jumped even though she’d braced herself for it. Whirling, she put a hand to her heart. “Avery! Oh, my gosh, you scared me half to death. I thought I was the last one here.”
Avery—on crutches now—started toward her. “I was just about to say the same thing. I thought you’d left hours ago.”
“No, I’ve been in the workroom all day. I just came up here to get my purse.” She patted her bag, hoping that Avery wouldn’t notice how badly her hands shook.
He peered at her in the dim hallway. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look a little pale.”
She shrugged. “I guess I’m just a little jumpy after what happened to poor Tim. Thank goodness he’s going to be okay.”
“Yes, thank goodness. Although it’s a shame he didn’t get a good look at his attacker. But maybe that’s just as well. If he could identify the guy, he might still be in danger.”
“Good point,” Penelope murmured.
Avery paused in front of his office door. “Keep an eye out as you leave, okay? You can’t be too careful these days.”
“I will,” Penelope promised. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As she started for the stairs, she heard Avery’s door close behind him. She didn’t look back, though, until she was at the bottom of the steps, and then she glanced over her shoulder just as she pushed open the door that led into the front hallway.
When she turned back around, she ran smack into someone.
She let out a scream as the man grabbed her arms.
“Miss Moon, is that you? It’s me, George. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Penelope had been genuinely startled this time, and now she gave a shaky laugh as she recognized the security guard. “George!”
He peered down at her much as Avery had done just moments before. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m just a little skittish, that’s all.”
“With good reason,” he said. “Here, let me walk you to your car.”
“That’s not necessary. I’m parked out front and the lot is well lit. Besides, whoever broke into the museum and attacked Tim is probably long gone.”
“Maybe.” But his frown told her that he didn’t necessarily agree. “I’m not so sure that guy is the one we should be worried about anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Penelope asked as they left the museum and headed across the parking lot.
“You haven’t heard? There’s been another murder in Montrose.”
“Another murder?” Penelope asked in alarm. “As in more than one?” Even though she was certain the latest homicide in Montrose wasn’t related to the break-in, the news still drew a shiver up her spine.
“You remember that girl they found a while back, right? Well, now another body has turned up, with the same MO. The police still aren’t releasing much information, but I’ve got this buddy who works for HPD. He knows an ex-detective who was on that task force a couple of years ago when all those other girls were being killed. You remember. The Casanova case they called it, on account of the way the killer left all that stuff at the crime scenes. Anyway, my friend says this ex-detective thinks the wrong man was sent to prison. He thinks Casanova is still out there and now he’s starting to kill again.”
Penelope remembered the original case very well because she’d just moved into an apartment a few blocks from the Montrose area. When the killings started, her mother had tried to get her to come back home, but Penelope had known that if she gave in to her fears, she would never gain her independence, so she’d toughed it out, although she’d been terrified just like everyone else in the city.
Panic had gripped Houston that summer, and Penelope felt some of that same fear now. But Houston was the fourth largest city in the country. Crime, including murders, were a fact of urban life.
Still, she was grateful for George’s presence as she climbed into her car and started the engine. He leaned down and said into her open window, “You take care, Miss Moon. Lot of crazies out there.”
“Don’t I know it,” Penelope muttered as she put the car in gear and drove off.
A LITTLE WHILE LATER, she let herself into her apartment, turned on the light, and was just about to put her purse and keys away when she stopped short.
Something was wrong. It wasn’t anything she could put her finger on. No open windows. No muddy footprints across the hardwood floor. But she knew that something wasn’t quite right.
She’d lived in the apartment for nearly two years. She knew every square inch. Every nook and cranny. The placement of all her tchotchkes. She couldn’t see anything amiss, but she could sense it. Someone had been in her apartment after she’d left that morning.
Backing out the door, she hurried down the breezeway to Tay’s apartment and knocked.
She wasn’t sure if her friend would be home yet. Sometimes the spa booked late appointments for the clients who couldn’t get away during regular hours.
But Tay opened the door immediately. She had her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore a short terry-cloth robe, as if she’d been home relaxing for some time.
“Hey!” she said in surprise. “Did you just get in from the airport?” She stepped back so that Penelope could enter.
“No, I’ve been at the museum all day,” Penelope said as she brushed past her friend. She turned, clutching her purse strap. “This is going to sound crazy, but I think someone’s been in my apartment.”
“Someone broke in?” Tay asked in alarm. “Are you sure?”
“No, I’m not sure. The door was locked, and I didn’t see any open windows, but I could swear someone’s been in there. You know how you can just sense it sometimes?”
Tay nodded. “Did you check with the building manager? Maybe he had someone come in to spray for bugs or something while you were gone.”
“Maybe,” Penelope said doubtfully. “But they usually give us some warning, don’t they? I hate to ask this, but could you just go with me while I have a look around?”
“Sure, no problem.” Tay opened a desk drawer and pulled out a gun.
Penelope gasped. “What are you doing with that?”
“I bought it when all those women were murdered in Montrose that summer. I may not have fit Casanova’s profile, but you never know when some nutcase will decide that exotic brunettes are his thing.”
Penelope stared at her for a moment. “What an odd coincidence. I was just thinking about those murders myself,” she murmured.
Tay gave her a shrewd look. “You heard about the latest?”
“Someone told me about it. And I know what you’re thinking. I heard about the murder, and now my imagination is working overtime. But I don’t think that’s it.” Penelope’s focus was still on the gun. “Look, is that thing legal? Do you have a permit for it?”
Intimate Knowledge Page 11
