Max reluctantly shook his head before pocketing his cell. “Nothing on Twitter or Facebook that matches the Daniel Howard in question.”
“Don’t you think that’s weird?” I asked. “For someone his age to not have online hangouts?”
“You’re not online.”
“I’m not a college kid.”
Max shrugged. “Maybe he values his privacy.”
“Then all the more reason I need to talk to Angela. I’ve got to find that intern. He hasn’t reported to work in days. Think about it. We still have two unidentified bodies—one mailed to Frank and one to me.”
Realization softened Max’s features. “He might be one of the bodies.”
“Right. And I can’t be certain if anyone on the museum staff bothered to mention Daniel Howard to Calvin during his interviews.”
Truth be told, I was actually a bit scared to meet Angela. From the way Max had described her, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out she wasn’t playing with a full deck. And even if she wasn’t the Collector, that perverse personality still made her dangerous. Anyone willing to steal from a museum had to have unsavory contacts and at least a general understanding of what an item on the black market was worth. Edward Drinker Cope’s skull could be worth thousands. Hundreds of thousands. After being involved in three Victorian-themed murder mysteries, nothing surprised me anymore.
Angela had been fired before Daniel vanished on his maybe-college-break and the murders began, that much Dr. Gould had established for me. But I was still uncertain about the possibility of Angela and Thyne working together to obtain the skull. I could hypothesize certain events, but I would need more details to confirm or deny their potential and unsavory business relationship if I was going to make any of the shit I was flinging stick to the target.
Angelacouldhave killed Daniel. This whole Collector business might have started as nothing more than a crime of passion. And in order to cover the death up—because she’d have been suspect numero uno otherwise—she fabricated this elaborate…murder machine. A bit outrageous, but she could have simultaneously exacted revenge on Frank while getting her hands on serious cash.
I took my sunglasses off and rubbed my eyes. “I don’t know why Cope’s skull is being punted around museums.”
“I hate it when you don’t know something.”
I snorted. “So do I.” I put my shades on again. “It’s extremely disorienting.”
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with mourning rituals?”
“Displaying a skull?” I asked doubtfully.
“They used to display the entire body in parlors.”
“Yes, but keepsakes of loved ones after burial were usually something small. A bit of hair preserved in a locket, or a ring made from a glass eye.”
“Gross.”
“Not by Victorian standards,” I chastised. “They had a much more intimate relationship with death than we do today.”
Max shrugged. He took out his phone again. “Well, I don’t know about the skull, but if you insist on talking to Angela, we have to set some ground rules.”
“Ground rules?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
He nodded, still studying the screen. “Yeah. Like meet somewhere well-lit and public, for one. Two, don’t tell her you suspect she might have offed someone.”
“You think so little of me?”
Max glanced up briefly. “You don’t have a good track record.”
“I feel personally attacked.”
He snorted and went back to whatever he was doing. “How are you going to ask her questions without it being suspicious?”
“I’m going to tell her I’m researching the whereabouts of the Cope skull.” I snatched my notebook and put it away. “If she’s the Collector, she’ll know that’s the truth but won’t realize she’s a suspect. If she’s innocent, she’ll know I’m contacting her because of her recent position in the paleontology division.” I grabbed my scarf, paused, and stared at the far wall of the coffee shop. “Except I have no idea how to reach her,” I said a bit absently.
“I was hoping you’d realize that before you walked out,” Max said with a quiet laugh. “Luckily you have me.” He turned his phone around.
I leaned across the table and squinted to read the tiny text. “What am I looking at?”
