Last Breath Read online

Page 14


  “You’re positive?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Do you mind if I look at something on your computer?”

  “Go right ahead.”

  He sat at the table and pulled up Daria’s documents. A few clicks of the mouse, and Connor was looking at the list. “Yes, this was the last file opened,” he nodded, “but it was last opened at 10:37 P.M.”

  “I wasn’t here at…oh.” She sat in a chair across from Connor. “Someone else opened the file.”

  “And someone else now knows where the rest of the artifacts are, if they didn’t already know.”

  “We’re going to have to warn those people.” She looked at him with frightened eyes.

  “I can take care of that right now.” He began to type. “Shit. I can’t send e-mail from here. I forgot, you don’t have Internet service here in the house.”

  “Maybe you can send it from the library in the morning.”

  “Maybe I can just call in the names right now.” He took out his cell phone.

  “It’s after midnight.”

  “John Mancini seldom sleeps,” Connor said as the number began to ring. “John, hey, it’s Connor. I’ve got something for you…”

  It was another hour before Connor ended his call. Exhausted, Daria was half asleep, her head resting on the kitchen table, her eyes closed.

  “Daria,” Connor whispered.

  “I’m awake,” she told him. “I just couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer.”

  She sat up and yawned. “Did you give John all the names and addresses?”

  “Yes. He’ll take care of it.”

  “Good. I hate the thought of anyone else being tortured like that.” She shuddered.

  “We’ll do everything we can to keep that from happening. In the meantime, you need to get some sleep. You look as if you’re going to fall over.”

  “That’s exactly how I feel.” She looked at the old clock on the opposite wall. “But what about you? It’s really late. How far is the motel from here? Do you still have your room?”

  “I checked out this morning.”

  “Then stay here. There are several guest rooms upstairs. I’m afraid there’s no air-conditioning, so you won’t be as comfortable as you would be at a motel, but it’s a lot closer.”

  “Hey, I sleep in tents, too, remember? There is no air-conditioning in most of the places I sleep.” He grinned. “And frankly, I would have slept on your front porch if I’d had to. There’s no way I’d leave you alone here, knowing that someone has already broken into your house once tonight.”

  “Do you really think he won’t be back?”

  “I really think he’s done here.” At least for now.

  “Maybe we should call the police.” She paused in the doorway. “At least make a report.”

  “I already told John. He agrees that the breakin here must be part of the whole picture. First thing in the morning, I’m going to see if I can lift prints off the windowsill and the screen. John’s going to get someone from NSAF up here ASAP. And in the meantime, I think you need to get some sleep.”

  Daria nodded. “I have a meeting with Louise at nine in the morning.” She waved for him to follow her, but first he rechecked the lock on the back door.

  “I’ll go look for some sheets for your bed,” Daria said, yawning as she made her way up the stairs, “if you wouldn’t mind locking up down here.”

  “Fair enough.” He checked all the windows, the basement door, and the front door before turning off the lamp on the table in the hall. As he climbed the steps to the second floor, he heard a low rumble. Looking up, he saw Sweet Thing on the top step, her ears back, her upper lip curled.

  “Hey, girl. It’s me. No need for that.” He held his hand out to her. “We’re old friends, remember?”

  “Who are you talking to?” Daria walked out of the room near the top of the steps.

  “The dog forgot for a moment that we’re buds,” Connor told her.

  “She growled at you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I think maybe you startled her. I don’t think she would have attacked you.”

  “I don’t think she would either, but it’s good to know her protective instincts are in full swing.”

  “I have sheets for the bed in here, and if you’ll give me a minute, I’ll have the bed made for you.”

  “Thanks, Daria, but don’t bother. I can do that.”

  “Really. It’s no bother.”

  He took the pile of sheets from her hands. “No bother for me, either. You’re exhausted. Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Okay. Thanks. I am pretty much wiped out. But I don’t mind telling you I’ll sleep better knowing you’re here.” She stifled a yawn. “See you in the morning. Come on, Sweet Thing,” she called to the dog, who had positioned herself at the top of the steps once again.

  Connor closed the door to the bedroom and stripped the white coverlet from the bed. From the room next door, he heard Daria talking to the dog, and he smiled to himself. She and the dog had taken to each other like long-lost friends, and there was no doubt in his mind that the dog would be a most protective guardian. Not that Connor had any intention of leaving Daria unprotected.

  He finished making the bed and went into the adjoining bathroom. He noted gratefully that Daria had left several towels stacked on the side of the sink. He turned on the shower and stripped down. It had been a busy day, but his mind was still in overdrive and he had a lot to think about before getting into bed, including how to prolong his stay here at Howe. He turned down the hot water until it was almost off, and stood beneath the cold spray until his tanned skin was almost red. His head clear and his body cooled, he turned off the shower and wrapped one of the towels around his waist. Quietly, with only the light from the hall to guide him, he crossed the room and opened all three windows to the slight breeze that passed through the trees alongside the house. He peered out the window at the campus. He could see Louise’s house and noted that it, too, was now in darkness. The student body was still on summer hiatus, and the campus was eerily quiet. Connor watched the shadows for a long time, but nothing moved. Still, he knew that somewhere out there was someone who knew a lot more about the treasures hidden in the museum’s basement than he was supposed to.

  From the beginning, Connor suspected that someone from the university was involved in the thefts. Now he had to wonder if that person was also a murderer.

  The only thing Connor knew for certain was that he would not be leaving Howe until he found out.

  11

  “I thought I smelled coffee.” Daria came through the swinging kitchen door.

  “I hope you don’t mind.” Connor looked up from the folder he was reading. “I’m used to getting up early.”

  “I’d be crazy to object to someone making my coffee in the morning.” She smiled when she noticed the mug he’d left next to the pot for her. “Thank you. This was thoughtful of you.”

  “Just as easy to make enough for two.” He shrugged without looking up. “Did you sleep?”

  “Not really. I kept thinking about the breakin, and what happened to those people. But I was glad you were here.” She filled the mug and took a sip. “This is really good.”

  “Thanks. You know I’m armed and can handle anything that might happen, right?”

  “I really hadn’t thought about you being armed. I just figured you could handle it.” She paused. “Are you armed right now, this minute?”

  He reached a hand behind his back and held up a black handgun.

  “Oh.”

  “Does it make you nervous?”

  “Not as nervous as thinking about having my tongue cut out.”

  He smiled and slid the gun back into the holster at the small of his back.

  “Have you seen Sweet Thing?” Daria leaned back against the counter.

  “I took her out earlier. She heard me moving around and came into my room, so I brought her down with me and we
took a little walk. Last I saw her, she was sleeping on the top step.”

  “She’s outside alone?” Daria frowned. “What if she runs away? Or chases someone?”

  “She has been extremely well trained. When you tell her to stay, she stays.”

  “You think she’s still there?”

  “Go on. Take a look. I will bet you anything she’s still right there on the top step.” Connor slid several sheets of paper from the folder and appeared to be studying them.

  “Anything?” Daria stopped halfway to the door. “You’re that sure?”

  “I am.”

  “Good. We’ll bet your car.”

  “Wait a minute-”

  “Hey, your idea.” Daria peeked out through the glass. The dog was standing on the top step, looking up at her. “And oh, my, that idea is certainly going to cost you.”

  “You’re bluffing.” Connor was in the doorway behind her.

  “You think?”

  “If that dog wasn’t right there, you’d already be outside looking for her.”

  “I’m that transparent?”

  “Sorry, but yes.”

  “Damn.” She opened the door and the dog came in, wagging her tail. “I did get your attention though, didn’t I?”

  “Daria, you got my attention a long time ago.” He was leaning against the doorjamb, coffee mug in his hand.

  She tried to think of something clever to say, but could not. When she realized she was blushing, she put her head down and fussed with the dog. By the time a response had come to her, he’d gone back into the kitchen alone.

  “What is on your agenda today?” Connor was at the table, acting as if he had not just thrown a pitch she hadn’t bothered to take a swing at.

  “I have a meeting with Louise in about twenty minutes.” Daria filled Sweet Thing’s water bowl at the sink.

  “Then what?”

  She shrugged. “Just work. I expect the museum will be a busy place with all the inspectors and insurance people, so I’ll work here. And since someone from the FBI is going to go after the missing artifacts, I can go about my business.”

  “Which business is that?”

  “Designing the exhibits. Deciding what to showcase, what should go where. How best to display certain pieces.”

  “So you decided to stay.”

  “I think I’ve known since day one I’d be staying. I guess I just wanted to believe I was making an intellectual decision rather than an emotional one.”

  “What’s wrong with making decisions based on your emotions?”

  “I’m a scientist,” she said, as if that should explain it. “Anyway, I’m eager to start. I need to put a lot of thought into how I want to present things. This will be the debut of Shandihar’s culture to the rest of the world, so I want to get it right. And I want to convey Alistair’s joy in having found the city. I want people to be able to see Shandihar the way he saw it.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “It will be.” Her eyes darkened. “At least, it would be, if we didn’t have these murders…”

  He placed the papers on the table before him in a neat stack. “Regardless of what has happened, you still have a job to do. You have a lot of responsibility. Getting the museum reopened is the goal, right? To help keep the school going?”

  She nodded.

  “Then focus on that, and only that.”

  “I can’t. I thought about this a lot last night.” She sat across the table from him. “About Alistair and his search for Shandihar. Finding it. Packing up everything he could get his hands on and bringing it back here. He was so proud of himself, that he’d found a place that no one else believed existed. He couldn’t wait to show the world what he’d found. And then he died. Now that the university is finally going to display the Shandihar artifacts, once again, people are dying.”

  “I thought you said Alistair died of a lung infection.”

  “He did. But I was remembering last night that Iliana wrote in her diaries about several others connected with the expedition who’d died after Alistair. Three of his assistants died within the next two years.”

  “How?”

  “The same vague ‘lung disease’ that Alistair died from.”

  “Maybe they all picked up the virus at the same time.”

  She looked doubtful.

  “Seriously. Think about it. They were all in the same part of the world together. They might have picked up a virus or some sort of bacteria.”

  “And it lay dormant in all four men for two, three, or four years?” She shook her head.

  “Right. I’d forgotten that Alistair returned to Howe two years before he died. And if the others died within two years, that would have been…” He tried to recall the dates.

  “Anywhere from 1911 to 1912. My great-grandfather died in late 1910.”

  “So what are you saying, Daria?”

  “I don’t know. You’re the investigator. You tell me.” She stole a look at the clock. “I have to get going or I’ll be late for my meeting with Louise.”

  She rinsed her mug out in the sink. “Thanks for the coffee. And for letting Sweet Thing out. I apologize for not being able to offer you breakfast.”

  “I’ll pick up something later. I’m pretty resourceful.”

  “Will you be here when I get back?” She paused with her hand on the kitchen door.

  “Would you like me to be?” His eyes held hers for a long moment.

  “Yes. I would.”

  “Then I’ll see you later.”

  “Great. See you later.” She pushed through the door and as it swung back, he called to her.

  “Daria. Where are Iliana’s diaries?”

  “Upstairs on the table next to my bed.”

  “Do you mind if I take a look?’

  “Not at all,” she called back as she unlocked the front door. “Go for it.”

  Daria stepped out onto the front porch and drew in a deep breath of sheer mugginess. It had been years since she’d experienced an American summer in this part of the country, and she’d forgotten how oppressive the humidity could be. She had become accustomed to the dry desert air.

  Instead of her usual work clothes-shorts and a T-shirt-she’d put on a khaki skirt that fell to her knees and a sleeveless cotton shirt because she wasn’t sure if anyone else would be at her meeting this morning. She hoped it wouldn’t be the bankers. Or the insurance people. She wouldn’t mind the contractors who were going to work on the building, though; she’d like to have some input if they were going to alter the interior design. She made a mental note to ask Louise about that. The Great Room had been perfectly designed for exhibitions like the one she had in mind. There was no need to mess with what worked.

  Vita was on the phone when Daria stepped into the reception area. She waved Daria in, pointed to Louise’s open door, and mouthed the words, “Go on in, she’s waiting for you.”

  “Louise?” Daria entered the inner office.

  “Over here.” Louise was at a small conference table that was set up by the windows on the right side of the room. “I was just looking over some of the notes I made when the security firm was here yesterday.”

  “Has anything been decided?”

  “Yes. The bank is refurbishing a large secure space in the basement of their main branch in downtown Wilmington. They’re hoping to have it completed by the end of the week. In the meantime, there are several guards at the museum keeping an eye on things.”

  “Why move the collection at all, if bringing in more guards works?”

  “The bank feels that the artifacts will be safer if they’re locked away in a vault.”

  “That’s probably what Mrs. Sevrenson thought, too.”

  “What?” Louise frowned. “Who?”

  “Elena Sevrenson. The woman in Philadelphia who was murdered. Her niece told us she had a vault in her basement. That’s where she kept the griffins.”

  “And yet they were the only things stolen. Odd that nothing else was ta
ken.” Louise took a seat at the table and motioned for Daria to do the same.

  “Particularly since there were other highly valuable objects on display in the dining room at the time.”

  “That couple out in Gladwyne-do we know what was stolen from their home?”

  “I suspect I do, but I’m sure the FBI will let us know for certain.”

  “And the gentleman from Delaware?”

  “Someone will be searching the house to confirm what was stolen. The piece he owned from the university’s collection-a statue of the goddess Ereshkigal that’s almost two feet tall-should be easy enough to spot.”

  “Good Lord, you’d have to be an idiot not to see the connection.” Louise swore softly under her breath. “It’s only a matter of time before this story breaks and the phones start ringing off the hook.”

  “Louise, does Howe have a public relations person?”

  “We did.” Louise sighed. “She left at the end of the semester and we haven’t replaced her yet.”

  “Is there anyone on staff you could call upon as acting public relations director to at least see you through the next few weeks? Unless you have the time to deal with the media yourself, it could get ugly.”

  “Good point. Let me think on this for a while. Maybe there is someone…” She bit her bottom lip. “In the meantime, I have some things to give you.”

  Louise got up and walked to her desk, where a cardboard box sat on the chair. She carried the box to Daria at the table.

  “In here is a copy of the catalog from the Oliver Jacobs exhibit.”

  “The one that marked the opening of the museum?” Daria’s eyebrows raised in interest.

  “Yes. Vita is still searching for the records Casper Fenn kept, detailing his acquisitions and sales. I haven’t had time to help her look more thoroughly. I imagine you would welcome the opportunity to see what transpired back in the 1940s and 1950s.”

  “I would, thank you. Can I take the catalog back to the house?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I should tell you that I may have had a breakin at McGowan House last night.”

  Louise frowned. “And you waited until now to tell me? Did you call the police? What was taken?”

  “I meant to tell you as soon as I arrived this morning, but we started talking about other things. As far as I can tell, nothing was taken, but Connor thinks somebody got some information from my computer.”