Henry’s dark eyes landed on mine. “Tonight, she said she first met Bernard many years ago, right?”
“She did,” I said.
“Bernard used to talk about this woman he called his Lady Love. She never came to the library, but he’d meet her all over the world. Istanbul, Barcelona, Paris. And she was from the States, so he often spent weeks at a time visiting her here. It stopped, about a year into my working with him. So nine years ago. I never gave it a thought, it was just one more funny quirk about him.”
Awareness flooded his features—and a hint of that charming smile. “He always told me she was richer than God. And she was fascinated with the scientists who had discovered the heavens.”
Henry pulled one of the postcards we’d been given at the event—the one with the picture of the Copernicus book on it. It was open to a famous drawing of the planets, drifting in orbit around the sun. I returned his smile—a tentative one—and his grew. I knew that feeling well, chased that feeling every day here. When the jumbled puzzle pieces of your mind clicked together to make something real.
“I’m thinking something crazy,” I ventured.
“I’m listening,” Abe said.
“What if…” I took a deep breath. “What if Victoria took this book? Or is planning to take it, setting up a job before the exhibit?”
It was a big leap—but Abe and Freya were already nodding.
“I’ve certainly always suspected Victoria of dipping her toe in illegal waters,” Abe said. “When I was with the FBI, we had a lot of suspects like her—supremely wealthy collectors who had lawyers on retainer and always claimed they never knew anything.” He stopped, cocked his head. “I agree with you, Delilah. None of this sits right with me.”
Freya fiddled with her bun. “This would certainly take the cake for most peculiar case…but I can see it.”
The trust Abe and Freya returned to me so easily here always felt like a gift. One that I treasured greatly.
Henry, however, was silent.
“How did you get her to cozy up to you?” Abe asked.
I coughed into my hand. “It’s nothing, really.”
Freya hummed the opening bars of the “Wedding March” beneath her breath.
“Victoria thought Henry and I were newlyweds, so we went with it. She thinks we eloped one month ago in Ireland beneath a veil of rose petals.” My palms were sticky as I dragged them up my thighs.
Abe swirled his drink with expert care. “Interesting approach,” he mused. “Especially for your first day in the field.”
“I didn’t do much,” Henry said. “Delilah took the lead. She did a great job on the spot.”
“Delilah’s quick on her feet,” Abe said, giving me a nod of approval.
I nodded back but knew later he’d ask me about Henry’s performance, how he kept his head under pressure. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the ability to charm a target—but he’d floundered when pushed past his comfort zone. If Freya and I could figure out a way to work this potential Victoria case, we’d nail it. No awkward training needed—Henry could get out in the field at a later date, for a case that would be a little less conspicuous.
“So what do we do next?” I asked. Abe and Freya mirroring my suspicions had my bloodhound senses turned way up. My fingers flexed into my palm. I’d had mandatory Krav Maga self-defense training at the police academy, and when Abe learned I still practiced, he had a bag and a few mats installed in the office. Abe and Freya sparred with me sometimes, but I usually took my frustrations—or excitement—out on that punching bag. My knee was jiggling, and Freya placed a gentle hand to stop it.
Abe tapped his pen hard against the desk. Stared out the window. “Usually, Codex is hired when a book is missing,” he said to Henry, by way of explanation. “We don’t go to a potential client and beg for a job. So I’m not saying we should do this all of the time. And it’s certainly a massive risk.”
“But we’d have a huge reward,” Freya sang.
“Are you suggesting we go to the Franklin Museum and ask them if their Copernicus is missing based on a collective hunch?” Henry asked.
“Yes,” Abe said. “Does that concern you?”
“It does,” Henry said, blowing out a breath. “I’m not trying to step on any toes, and I’m certainly no expert, but what is our hard evidence exactly?”
“None.” Abe shrugged. “But Delilah and Freya have fairly good instincts I find are right the majority of the time.”
“And when they’re wrong?”
Henry cast his gaze toward me. But I didn’t have a response for that.
“I don’t believe they are,” Abe shot back.
“Okay,” Henry conceded, after a moment of silence. But he didn’t expand.
My fingers flexed at my sides in preparation, attempting to ignore my disappointment that my new coworker seemed reluctant. But Abe was already on the move—standing swiftly, tossing his jacket over his shoulders. “Then I think we should go pay the president of the Franklin Museum a late-night visit.”
7
Delilah
Pale moonlight shimmered on the broad steps that led to the very top of the Franklin Museum. The building sat like a coliseum—round columns towered over us as we raced up the stairs. The museum was utterly silent, tomb-like, but Abe insisted that Francisco would be there.
“On a scale of one to fucking ten, how would you rate your first day of field work?” Freya asked Henry. To his credit, he wasn’t even out of breath, taking long, confident strides that dwarfed my own.
“Fucking ten seems fair,” he said. “I suppose I thought there’d be more HR paperwork to fill out before I embarked on this evening’s adventure.”
Freya shook her head. “Only if you fuck up.”
Henry’s warm laugh echoed in the quiet of the courtyard. We’d reached the main doors, but Abe was leading us to an unremarkable-looking side door. His phone was at his ear in an instant.
“Francisco,” he said. “Fancy a late-night visit from an old friend?”
“How does Abe know him again?” Henry asked, dropping his voice.
“FBI contacts,” I replied. “Before he left to start Codex, he’d worked Art Theft for years. He knows everyone in Philly connected to art. And they all seem to owe him favors.”
Henry slid his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Interesting.”
“What?” I asked.
He adjusted his glasses. “This night is nothing like a typical night in my former life as a librarian, that’s all. Just noting the difference.”
“In a good way?” I asked.
Our eyes met in the darkness. “Very,” he said.
“The only reason a bunch of Codex agents would be storming my castle past midnight would be if I stole something.” A short, balding man with tan skin and gold glasses was standing in the unremarkable doorway.
“Well, did you?” Abe asked.
The man huffed out a breath. “Come in. The kettle is on. For God’s sake, don’t touch anything.”