“We don’t know that for sure,” he reminded her. “We do know they’re aware of your connection to me, and where you’re staying. I have no idea what they want from me, but it’s not much of a stretch to assume they might see you as a threat to their plans.” He motioned to her bandages. “I’d say it’s pretty clear their intentions toward you aren’t exactly friendly.”
“So you’re suggesting I switch to another hotel for tonight?”
“Or stay with me.”
She laughed. “And that’s supposed to be safer for me, how?”
“Do you really think they’d come back after today’s chase? The element of surprise is gone; we know who they are, now.”
“Maybe you and me should get a hotel room somewhere else instead. How does that sound?”
“Nice, but not practical.” He took her hand, gently massing her fingers. “I want you to stay the night, Claudia. What do you say?”
Mmmm, the man had a magical touch, even in such small ways.
“Love to, but I still need to go back to my hotel. How about we finish up whatever needs finishing, then meet somewhere and drive back here together?”
Vincent brought her closer, and she didn’t resist. She liked the feel of him against her, even if it was way too distracting.
“What I really want is to get you upstairs in bed,” he said, “but you’re right. Duty calls.”
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” God, she’d love to stay in bed with him the rest of the day and night. She didn’t want to have to face more time in airports and airplanes, starting from scratch on yet another case when this one was so close to cracking—and Vincent was smack in the middle of danger.
But, yes, duty called, and he was a big boy. He could take care of himself without her going mother hen all over him.
“Hey, promise me something,” she said as he walked her out to her car.
“What?”
“Wear your gun, okay?”
Vincent nodded.
Claudia headed back to the hotel, taking a different route and checking her mirrors frequently. She spotted no sign of a tail but didn’t let down her guard. Instead of going into the hotel’s parking garage, she parked across the street. No need to make it easy for anyone to get the jump on her.
The envelope from Sheridan Express was waiting for her at the front desk, and, Claudia grabbed it and limped to the elevator.
Up at her room, she opened the door slowly, alert for any sign of an intruder, but there were no ominous shadows, no blur of a body jumping at her. The room was empty, recently tidied by housekeeping, who’d left a little chocolate mint on her pillow.
With a sigh of relief, Claudia sat and thumbed through the contents of the package Ellie had sent. Vincent had guessed correctly: stolen church relics. Not much else beyond the expected itinerary and contact info, along with a new temporary cell phone. She was going to need to come up with a reliable way for Vincent to contact her. She couldn’t expect him to program a bunch of constantly changing numbers into his phone.
After she’d gone over everything in the envelope, she gingerly examined her knees, wincing as she peeled back the bandages that stuck to the weeping skin. The scrapes and bruises looked alarmingly red and puffy, but as long as infection didn’t set in, they’d be healing up within a few days.
She took a quick shower and reapplied ointment and bandages, dressing in jeans to protect her knees and double-padding the bandages at her elbows. Vincent’s suggestion to leave the hotel was a good one, and staying the night with him appealed to her more than it probably should. She quickly packed her belongings, then buckled on the belt holster, her gun snugly inside, and slipped on the denim vest to conceal it.
From the doorway, she glanced back at the room, undisturbed except for an indentation on the bed where she’d sat and the pile of damp towels in the bathroom. It was like a hundred other rooms she’d stayed in, sterile and anonymous compared to Vincent’s modest, cozy house.
There’d be more hotel rooms like this one as long as she was with Avalon, but the thought of “coming home” to Vincent’s place sometimes made the situation a little more bearable.
After she checked out and got into her rental car, she dialed Vincent. He wouldn’t be done with his work yet, but maybe she could join him.
She reached him at his office, surprised to hear that he was already finishing up forms and paperwork, and arranged to meet him at a small Italian restaurant a few blocks from the FBI building. She waited in a booth for almost a half hour, impatiently at first, then with worry. Just as she decided she should go look for him, she spotted a familiar figure in a black suit, white shirt, and skinny tie approaching the restaurant.
Only when she realized she’d stopped breathing did she admit how worried she’d been. Oh, yes, she was falling hard for this man. When and how it had happened, she couldn’t say, but she’d been fighting her attraction to Vincent DeLuca from the first antagonistic second they’d met.
The door chime tinkled as Vincent walked in, and he spotted her waving at him. He slid into the booth opposite her, tugging his tie loose. “Did you get your package?”
“Yup. I leave tomorrow morning.” He was plainly not happy about her answer, but accepting of it. “And you?” she asked. “Everything taken care of?”
Vincent nodded. “We’ve issued alerts and descriptions for the two women; and maybe we’ll get lucky. I checked about Brody, but nobody’s brought him in yet.”
“So now what?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Vincent admitted. “It could be this is the last we see of them. I hope so; I don’t like the possibility that they’re still out there, watching me. I just wish I knew what they wanted.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’ve seen the last of them. They’ve fixated on you, for whatever reason, and they’re going to want to try and make contact again.” She reached across the table and pulled his coat aside, gratified to see the shoulder holster. “Good. I’ll rest a little easier knowing you’re properly accessorized.”
He straightened his coat, looking around to make sure no one had noticed the gun. “I wanted a taste of danger. Guess I got my wish.”
“And how’d you like it?”
“Can’t say I care for it, but maybe it’s an acquired taste. And you? I recognize that vest.”
“I’m licensed up. For real.”
“I don’t believe the ‘real’ part, but it doesn’t matter. You could be carrying a missile launcher under there and I wouldn’t care.”
“So much for those rules, huh?”
“Seems that way,” he said, glancing away.
Claudia immediately regretted her words. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I know how important personal integrity is to you, and teasing you about something that serious isn’t fair.”
“But it’s the truth. I’ve learned a few things about myself over the past couple days.”
“Is this good?” she asked, not sure she wanted to hear his answer.
“Mostly.” He leaned back against the booth. “You busy right now?”
“Not really, why?”
“What do you say we head over to Champion and Stone and test-drive our theories about the theft? I called Arnetta Gallagher, and she was fine with it, as long as we were quiet and didn’t upset any customers.”
“Did you mention me? I get the feeling she likes you much better than she likes me.”
“That’s because I’m a nice, well-mannered Italian boy.” Vincent grinned. “And yes, I mentioned you. I told her we’re working together.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.” He gave her a smug look. “Do I get any rewards for good behavior?”
After waving off the approaching waiter, Claudia slid out of the booth. “If we had a few hours to kill, I can’t think of a better way to pass the time than letting you ravish my poor body in thanks, but we shouldn’t keep that nice lady at Champion and Stone waiting.”
Vincent grinned. “C
an I ravish your body after that?”
“I’m counting on it.”
Chapter Seventeen
Arnetta Gallagher met them with a warm smile directed at Vincent. When she took in Claudia’s cuts, scrapes, and bruises she said, “Oh, my, what happened? You look like you got hit by a truck, poor thing.”
“It felt like it, too,” Claudia answered with feeling. “Thank you for letting us come by to walk through a couple theories. We’ll be sure to stay out of your way.”
She was on her best behavior, Vincent noted with amusement. “Yes, thank you.” he added.
“It’s a little slow right now, as you can see.” Arnetta motioned to the empty gallery. “So if there’s anything you’d like me to do, just ask. I’m happy to cooperate in any way I can.”
“Appreciate it, Ms. Gallagher. For now, we’re only going to walk around and take a look at things.”
After Arnetta retreated to the cashier’s desk, Claudia said softly, “Déjà vu, eh? We’re right back where we started.”
“Technically, we started out at the Alliance Gallery.”
“Mmm,” Claudia murmured, as she followed him to the next annex. “You were so mean to me.”
“You were so intrusive and pushy.”
“And here we are, making nice. Amazing, isn’t it?”
“Yup,” Vincent agreed, stopping at the empty display case that had held the Corinthian helmet.
Claudia moved up beside him. “They’ve got a new camera setup. It wasn’t like this before.”
“Looks like more cameras, period. That one”—he pointed to the hall entrance—“is new. This annex is under full surveillance now, but before you couldn’t see this side of the case.”
“Or this entire hallway.” Claudia headed down the hall that led to the office. “At least not until you get to the back service door.”
Vincent stopped to point to the doors along the hall. “This is the bathroom. This door’s to the office, and this is the storage room. This one . . . the supply room, right?”
“Right.” Claudia walked back to him. “The cleaning crew didn’t go into the supply or storage rooms. They did clean the bathroom and office so I think we can safely rule out those two rooms as potential hiding places.”
Vincent met her gaze. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
She nodded. “People would be going in and out of the storage room a lot. The supply room, not so much, and probably not at all toward the end of the day. Is it locked?”
Vincent tried the doorknob. “Locked.”
Claudia hunkered down to examine the keyhole. “It’s a cheapie, and old. Pretty beat up, so it’s hard to say if it’s been jimmied recently. Did you check if it had been locked the night of the theft?”
“I asked Arnetta about it.” He’d jotted down a few notes before coming over, and now he pulled them from his inside coat pocket and thumbed through them. “Basic office supplies inside, nothing valuable. Sometimes the door’s locked, sometimes not. It was open the night of the theft. She couldn’t remember if she’d locked it before she went home.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Claudia straightened. “Both the office and storage room have secure locks. The bathroom only locks from the inside, and there’s no place to hide in there.”
“So we go with the supply room.” When she nodded, Vincent called, “Ms. Gallagher, can you please open the supply room for us?”
A moment later, Arnetta’s heels click-clacked toward them and she appeared with a jangle of keys. “Why do you need to go in there?”
“We’re exploring a theory that the thief might have remained in the gallery, hiding, after you closed,” Vincent explained. As Arnetta opened her mouth to protest, he added, “The cameras didn’t cover this part of the hall, and it wouldn’t be difficult to slip down this way unnoticed while you were busy helping customers. Both the office and storage room are locked down, and the janitorial service only cleans the office and bathroom.”
“They never do this room unless I ask them. It doesn’t really need cleaning often, just the occasional dusting.” The lock clicked open, and Arnetta pushed the door inward. “To tell the truth, it’s not a very good lock. I’ve known a few employees who’ve opened it with a paper clip.”
The small room was dominated by industrial steel shelving units, filled with boxes of various sizes, and two older steel cabinets. Vincent motioned Claudia in. “After you.” To Arnetta, he said, “Thanks. We’ll come get you when it’s time to lock the door again. And, by the way, let’s keep this between just the three of us for now.”
The gallery manager looked a little disappointed, probably wishing she could stay and watch. “Of course I’ll keep quiet, Agent DeLuca. We have our reputation to maintain. Though I do have to say, it’s highly unnerving to contemplate that someone might have been hiding in here all along. After today, we’ll make sure to take any necessary steps to prevent that from happening again.”
“Good idea. Some knowledge is hard-earned, but better to learn from mistakes than repeat them.” Vincent waited until she’d left, then followed Claudia into the room. “Pretty tight in here.”
“I know,” she said as he brushed up against her. With a wink, she added, “Kinda sexy.”
“A garden shed would be sexy, if you and I were alone in it,” Vincent retorted. His body’s reaction to touching hers was instantaneous—and very inconvenient, considering their situation.
“Heh. Makes us sound like horny teenagers. Ain’t it great?” She grinned, then gave him a swat so that he stepped aside. “This is looking promising. You can squeeze behind the shelves here, see? And with all these boxes here and here, if you squat down, nobody sees you unless they come around the corner.”
Vincent nodded, seeking out other likely hiding spots. He pointed toward two cabinets. “Either side of the cabinet provides cover . . . and there, the boxes on those shelves. You’re right; looks promising.”
He turned slowly. “Okay. If you were hiding here, and knew there was a chance someone could come in for a box of staples, where would you want to be?”
“Good question.” Claudia joined him in the main aisle in the middle of the room. When his gaze tracked toward the far set of shelves and boxes, she followed it, her eyes narrowing. “Yeah, that would be good, right there. Mobility.”
“Exactly. Someone comes in, you move quickly around to the other side without being seen, and, if things get worse, it’s just a step or two to the cabinet there. It’s a tight fit, but far back enough that you wouldn’t be too noticeable if you were still standing, and not noticeable at all if you squatted down.”
“Good observation,” she said, smiling. “You’re a credit to the badge.”
Grinning, Vincent pulled two pairs of latex gloves out of his pocket and handed one to her, loving the look of surprise on her face. “I always come prepared for the job at hand.”
She grinned back. “Oooh, a man with spare latex in his pockets. Sexy! I am impressed, DeLuca.”
“As an encore, there’s tweezers.” He handed his extra one to her as she laughed, softly. “And . . . a penlight.”
“Impressed once again. I didn’t think to bring my crime scene kit.” She pretend pouted. “That means you win all the smarty-pants points this time.”
“Yay for me. Let’s go look for evidence, shall we?”
“Aha! I get your master plan now. You want me bending and crawling around so you have an excuse to shine your flashlight at my ass or down my shirt. Just be damn sure you keep your tweezers to yourself, buddy.”
His deep chuckle blended with Claudia’s giggles.
A half hour later, Claudia sucked in her breath and said, “Hey, I think maybe I’ve got something. Come over here and take a look.”
Backing out from where he knelt by one of the empty shelves, Vincent headed over to the door. Claudia pointed at the first shelf. “Hair strands. A couple of them . . . long and black.”
Their eyes met, excitement flashing between th
em. “My dark-haired businesswoman—the one who walked out but never walked in the next morning.”
“The Amazon.”
“Yup,” he said, grinning back at her.
“We’re sure it’s from a wig?” Claudia asked.
“We’ll know if it’s synthetic hair as soon as we get it back to the lab.”
“It’s not Arnetta Gallagher’s; hers is gray and short. Any employees here with long dark hair?”
“There are only four employees including Gallagher, and two of them are male. The other’s a forty-something woman with short brown hair. I think there’s a good chance this could be from our thief. She put on the wig, and it caught on the screws here. She probably never felt the hair catch since it was a wig,” Vincent said.
“Well, I’m assuming you brought baggies along with everything else.”
He had, and produced one from his back pants pocket. “I think your finding the first piece of evidence evens the smarty-pants score. Let’s finish up in here so we can do a review of what happened.”
By the time he and Claudia finished scouring the supply room for evidence, Champion and Stone had closed for the day. They’d found nothing else of note, not even fingerprints on dusty shelves.
“Somebody was very, very careful not to leave anything behind,” Claudia said, stripping off her gloves.
Vincent took off his gloves as well and went into the main gallery room, where Arnetta was cashing out the register. “When you’re done there, Ms. Gallagher, could we borrow you for a moment?” he asked.
She raised a brow but nodded. “Of course.”
They tossed the gloves in a wastebasket, which then reminded them to check the bathroom’s trash can. It was a typical large, chrome canister with an easily removable top. It was partially full of paper towel waste.
“Plenty of room for a helmet,” Claudia pointed out. “And lots of paper towels for padding and protection.”
“Still, the helmet would likely be damaged in handling,” Vincent said.
Her Last Chance Page 16
