by Gina Conroy
After the police left, Samantha boiled water. Nick crouched before Alex. “Hey buddy, can I see the knife you found?”
Alex pulled the knife from Samantha’s purse.
Nick held it with his fingertips.
“Is that the one from Mount Vernon’s exhibit?”
“Not sure until it’s tested, but the original is missing. Do you have a sack?”
Samantha handed him a lunch bag.
“Johnny came for the knife. Probably broke in earlier. When he couldn’t find it, he returned to look again.”
“Johnny’s the forger?”
“Probably not.”
Samantha grabbed a box of mac and cheese.
“I brought pizza, but ditched it when you called.”
Samantha smiled. “Did Johnny mention the telescope?”
“He claims he doesn’t know anything. I think he’s telling the truth.”
“It doesn’t make sense.” Samantha dumped the macaroni in the pot.
“It does if Johnny’s a pawn in a forgery ring.”
“Ring?”
“You were right about mob ties.”
“Cody’s off your suspect list?”
“I erased his name. I can add it when I find evidence.”
“You won’t. I have proof, and I’m willing to bet dinner on it.”
“Mac and cheese.” Nick’s brows arched. “Hardly worth it.”
“Winner chooses any restaurant in DC.” Samantha offered her hand. “Deal?”
Nick shook. “Now convince me.”
“Remember the books on wood restoration in the Smithsonian lab? That invoice we found is proof of a legitimate business transaction. Your suspicious project is a rocking chair for Cody’s grandmother.”
“Who’s conveniently dead so we can’t question her.”
“She’s at Graceful Living Nursing Home. Alive. At least she was this morning when we were at Christ Church. Cody left early. They couldn’t wake her. I should check on him.”
“I should check on him.”
What was she, Cody’s mother? Actually, that sounded better than the alternative. Nick clamped his teeth. To think he’d spent his entire Sunday searching prints and criminal history, while Samantha and Cody—his stomach roiled.
What was wrong with him? Samantha could do what she wanted. See who she wanted. The fire inside intensified. Who was he fooling? Samantha had weaseled into his heart, and Nick was powerless to evict her.
Samantha hung up the phone. “Melba is stable.”
“The toast?”
Samantha shook her head. “Cody’s grandmother. He said she’s a stubborn old woman and won’t go without a fight.”
“And I’m Mr. Universe.”
“What do you have against Cody?”
“Get a pen. I’ll make a list.”
Samantha’s arms crossed.
“I’m not being petty. Carole’d never involve Timmons and Sparks without telling me.”
“Maybe she forgot to mention it.”
Samantha’s last name fit perfectly. Steele. Tough and unbendable.
“Tell you what. On the way to dinner we’ll visit Grandma. If Cody’s story checks out, I won’t mention him as a suspect again.”
“I’ll call my neighbor to watch the kids.” She dialed. “Who’s buying?”
“We’ll let Grandma decide.”
“I’ll start with calamari, then the Trio Classico.” Nick handed the waiter the menu.
“Bruschetta, chicken parmigiana, and artichoke dip.” Samantha smirked. “Since you’re buying.”
“Why don’t you take that salt and rub it in?”
“Say it again.” Samantha rested her elbows on the table.
“I’ve said it twice. At the nursing home and in the car.”
“Third time’s the charm.”
“You were right. Grandma’s alive and rockin’.” Though a little forgetful, she confirmed Cody’s story. “I won’t mention Cody as a suspect again. Now drop it.” Nick removed the straw and gulped his Coke. How much of his ego could this woman devour?
“Losing graciously is a side of you I haven’t seen.”
“Because I don’t lose.” The waiter returned with the appetizers. Nick dunked his bread in the artichoke dip and took a bite. “This stuff isn’t bad.”
“Two affirmations in one day? What’s gotten into you?” She nibbled her bruschetta.
“I drop my guard when I’m hungry.”
Samantha’s face glowed from laughter or maybe from gloating. Either way, she looked amazing. This night, the two of them far from everything, was exactly what they needed.
Samantha’s eyes clouded. “Monday is twelve hours away. We haven’t identified the forger.”
So much for a relaxing dinner. “The only evidence is Johnny breaking into your condo.”
“He confessed to stealing antique dishes. That proves something.”
“That he’s a thief. Doesn’t mean he forged them.”
“If we find the dishes at the Capolinis—“
“They’re probably on the black market with the telescope. We should let it go and enjoy dinner.”
“We can’t give up. Maybe Althea works for the Capolinis.”
“Too unstable.”
“She seemed normal the other day.”
“Probably medicated with street drugs.”
“Why, when she has a prescription she could refill?”
“People with delusional disorder sometimes think doctors want to hurt them.”
“What about the fifth set of prints?”
“Someone’s running a criminal check, but if nothing hits, all leads are dead. There’s not enough time anyway.” Nick dunked his bread. “I could’ve cracked this case if I had more time.”
Samantha exhaled. “Why’s it taking so long?”
The waiter brought the calamari. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Dinner should arrive shortly.”
“Want some?” Nick waved a little tentacled squid.
“No, thanks.” Samantha watched the waiter hurry off. “You know what I meant.”
“Things don’t move in TV time. If we have eyewitnesses, plus concrete evidence, it can take days to get evidence lined up. Most times it’s months of detective work and then not all cases get a conviction.”
“I never realized what it takes to do your job. You should consider returning.”
He didn’t deserve her respect or a place on the force. He’d botched this case. Maybe if he had his head in the game, instead of chasing Samantha and her kids, he could’ve solved this case. Samantha sipped her water, seeming lost in thought.
Without Samantha, he wouldn’t be in the game. He’d be schlepping from his apartment to work with no chance of returning to the PD.
What chance did he have now? In twelve hours, Carole would spill it all.
The waiter brought their entrées.
Samantha cut a piece of chicken. “The telescope was in Professor Timmons’s lab.”
“I suspect he’s our fifth print. Can’t prove it since his criminal history hasn’t come back, and I can’t access his records at the Smithsonian.”
“He must be on file with Mount Vernon Security.”
“He works on the estate? Stupid! Why didn’t I do a search?”
“You didn’t know he worked there.”
“That’s no excuse, but there still might be time to connect him to the forgery.”
Monday morning, Nick hustled toward the archaeology lab to intercept Carole before she reported the telescope. Last night, he’d accessed security records and matched Timmons’s fingerprints with the unidentified print on the telescope. He told Samantha, but couldn’t reach Carole. No luck this morning, either. Former Chief Huntington probably knew about the forgery, but if Nick could stall Carole and keep them from reporting it, maybe he could break open the case.
Adrenaline started a slow drip when Nick opened the door and saw Timmons hunched over the worktable. He scanned the room. “Where’s Carol
e?”
Timmons adjusted his glasses. “She won’t be in all week. I thought my services could be useful with the new exhibit launching soon.”
Why didn’t Carole tell Nick? Stepping in further, he dialed her number. Voice mail. He tried Dale. No answer.
“What happened to the telescope I dropped off Friday?”
Timmons’s eyes shifted. “Carole didn’t mention a security guard discovered the forgery.”
“Never said I did.” Nick circled to the other side of the table. “They arrested the janitor for breaking into Samantha Steele’s home to steal an antique pocketknife.”
“How is that relevant?” Timmons’s mouth twitched. “Is she our forger?”
“No, but I think you know who is.”
He broke eye contact. “I resent that insinuation. If there’s nothing else, I’m extremely busy.”
The dweeb looked ready to crack. If Nick pressed, maybe he’d get a confession. Nick’s cell buzzed. Samantha. She’d have to wait.
“You’re head of paleobiology at the Museum of Natural History. Working here’s beneath you.” Last night Nick learned Timmons was a prodigy, gifted not only in science and math, but in art, with PhDs coming out the wazoo.
Timmons’s cheeks flushed. “I’m not beneath archaeology.”
“A man of your importance has to be extremely busy. Why not send an intern to do the grunt work?”
“If I extracted anyone, the summer program would be disrupted.”
“Removing the head of the program isn’t a problem? Guess you’re not so valuable.”
Timmons’s jaw clenched. “I’ve deferred my responsibilities to my assistant to aid a fellow scientist.”
“That explains why you’re here now. Why volunteer this summer?”
“The field is a nice change.”
A big chunk of change. “A guy with your degrees should aspire to something more prestigious than shoveling dirt.”
Timmons fiddled with the artifact and turned away. “Excuse me. I have work to do.”
“One more question.”
Timmons spun around in a huff.
“What was Mount Vernon’s telescope doing in your Smithsonian lab?”
Squatting in the dirt, Samantha brushed sweat from her brow. Why hadn’t Nick returned her call? Did Mount Vernon know about the forgery? She inhaled the sweet scent of the upper garden, but her angst didn’t fade.
Cody handed Samantha another brush. “You look tuckered out.”
“I didn’t sleep well.”
“Still fretting about that telescope?”
Samantha nodded. “I hoped to discover the forger. I need Mount Vernon to notice me.”
Cody lifted her chin. “I’ve noticed you.”
Samantha’s face flushed. “I need to do this.”
“Catching the forger isn’t the only way to impress them. Hard work will.”
“You’re right.” Samantha sorted through bits of pottery she’d uncovered. All good finds, but hundreds of the same could be buried in the stratigraphic level. Ten minutes later, she uncovered the edge of an unfamiliar object. With gentle strokes, she brushed the surface. The soil fell away easily, unlike the hard sediment she’d dug millimeters to the left. Her heart quickened.
“What’d you find?” Cody worked the edges with a brush and carefully removed it.
“Well?” Samantha anticipated his answer as he examined the square object.
“Has potential. Let’s keep this quiet until Timmons examines it.”
Samantha’s breath caught. Not Timmons!
Nick stared in the men’s room mirror. Dark circles and bloodshot eyes made him look ten years older. Pretty much how he felt. Four hours of sleep. Not much more the entire weekend. He dried his hands with a paper towel and made a three-pointer into the trash.
Too bad he hadn’t scored brownie points with Samantha last night. Her distance after dinner made him wonder what he’d done wrong.
He hadn’t scored at the precinct, either. Carole and Dale were still AWOL and nothing reported missing or forged at Mount Vernon. He didn’t buy Timmons’s story that Carole asked him to return the telescope. If so, why didn’t Carole mention it? Why wasn’t it in her lab now?
Nick’s cell buzzed as he entered the food court. “Samantha?”
“I need your help. I can’t process an artifact I found with Timmons in the lab.”
“He’s after the high-end stuff he can sell for quick cash, not broken pottery.”
“This could be George Washington’s cuff link.”
“I’m on my way.”
Heat rose off the asphalt parking lot as Samantha paced, waiting for Nick. She’d been so preoccupied with the cuff link she forgot to ask if Carole reported the forgery. What did it matter? With this new discovery, she could still get noticed.
Nick jogged over. “What’ve you got?”
“See the etchings. G.W. I can’t process it with Timmons in the lab.”
“If Carole were here, we wouldn’t have a problem.”
Samantha gasped. “What if she’s the forger?”
Nick’s eyes widened.
“She handles the artifacts. No one would suspect her.”
“The same could be said about Sparks.”
“Why isn’t she here?”
“It’s not because she’s a thief.”
“Then why hasn’t she reported the forgery?”
“I don’t know, but you need to back off. I’ll get Timmons out of the lab.”
“How?”
Nick dialed. “Timmons, I’ve uncovered interesting information about your connection to the forged telescope.
Meet behind the mansion in ten.” He turned to Samantha. “I’m all yours.”
Samantha looked at Nick like he was pazzo, crazy, one fry short of a Happy Meal. “What did you say?” “The lab’s free. It’s all yours.” “You said ‘I’m all yours.’”
Nick’s cheeks warmed. “Wishful thinking?” “Freudian slip?”
More like a landslide. This woman not only weaseled under his skin, but was now swimming in his head, wearing a bikini. Nick drowned the image. Okay, a modest one-piece. He took her hands. “I don’t want to stop seeing you after the investigation.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He hadn’t blown it last night? Nick checked his watch. “But I need to.” He back-shuffled. “Let’s catch up later. How’s pizza sound?”
“Perfect.”
Nick jogged off. What in the world had come over him? He’d acted like a lovesick teenager. He forced the bounce in his step to a stride. Porter, back in control.
Who was he fooling? Samantha had him whipped, and honestly, he didn’t mind the beating.
Samantha crouched below the open window of the archaeology lab.
“I owe you nothing.”
Professor Timmons? He should’ve left by now.
“You’ve put me in a precarious position, Arthur.” Timmons’s voice trembled. “I won’t jeopardize my reputation any longer.”
A long pause. Who’s Arthur?
“No. That’s my final answer.”
The front door slammed. Samantha stilled, recalling a similar conversation she’d overheard. The goon who’d pestered Johnny near the bathrooms. Could Timmons be indebted to the same thug?
“Sleeping on the job?” Cody’s voice startled Samantha. He helped her up.
“What’d Porter want? I saw him hightail it out of here.”
Samantha shifted her weight. “He thinks Professor Timmons is involved in the forgery.”
Cody laughed. “Timmons? He’s a lab geek, not a forger. I’m surprised Porter hasn’t fingered me.”
“He did, but now everything points to Timmons and Johnny Newberg.”
“Seriously? I didn’t think he’d stoop this low.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s tainted you against me, and I didn’t even mention the demons in his squad car. What kind of man gets his wife and son killed?”
Samantha’s gut clenched. “It wasn’t his fault.”
“Getting kicked off the PD for drug abuse wasn’t his fault, either? Darlin’, he’s pulling the wool over your eyes. If you ask me, he’s the most likely suspect.”
“I don’t believe it.”
Cody shook his head. “He’s worked here two weeks and already uncovered a forgery? You said Nick discovered it was a fake? How’d he know?”
She’d dismissed her concerns about Nick before, but a security guard would be a good cover. If there was any truth to Cody’s accusation of drug abuse, she had to know. Had she trusted Nick only to be deceived? Something inside Samantha crumbled.
One more reason she’d never rely on a man again.
Samantha walked to the dig, sorting through her muddled feelings. Cody’s allegation against Nick had awakened her from her male-induced stupor.
Men couldn’t be trusted.
That was why she’d left the cuff link in her locker. She’d ask her attorney neighbor, Ciara Turner, about legal ramifications before taking it off Mount Vernon property.
Rounding the corner, hundreds of tourists stood by the dig. Samantha gaped at the blond reporter standing by the pit. How’d news leak so fast, and who authorized the crew?
The swarm of activity hushed as the cameraman lifted three fingers, two, one, then pointed at Lydia Taylor, the region’s best-known broadcaster.
“This is one of the biggest finds at Mount Vernon since 1991 when over sixty thousand artifacts were excavated in the root cellar below the slave quarters.” Taylor peered at the pit. “A cuff link with the initials G.W., thought to belong to our founding father, President George Washington, was unearthed by archaeology intern Samantha Steele. Though it will undergo testing, Mount Vernon has no reason to doubt its authenticity. Which leads to another question. If it is Washington’s cuff link, why was it found behind slave quarters? Could it’ve been stolen by a slave? Or a gift? Could George Washington be more than just the father of our country? More on this as events unfold. Lydia Taylor, Channel Four News.”
Samantha cringed. Guess there was no dirt on the current president, so they went after a dead one.
A heaviness landed in Nick’s gut as Samantha chatted with the reporter. He should be happy for her, but his heart felt jammed in a vise. He wanted her to need him, and now she didn’t.