AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Which probably meant no metal detectors and little security.
“You have no idea who that other man is, or what he’s doing here?”
Rick shook his head.
“You have a security force and the police.”
“I prefer you.”
She got the message.
Payback could sometimes be a pain in the ass.
He gestured for them to walk outside into the corridor. There he quickly explained that it had all started a few months before when some confidential records, not available for general inspection without administrative approval, were violated in the museum archives.
“I didn’t realize the Smithsonian had a secret archive,” she said.
“We don’t. It’s just that some materials are held in trust, not for general inspection.”
Video surveillance had quickly targeted Martin Thomas. When confronted, he’d confessed that a member of the library’s citizen advisory board, the wife of a Smithsonian regent, a woman named Diane Sherwood, had requested he examine the information.
“Senator Sherwood’s widow?” she asked.
He nodded. “That’s right.”
She was beginning to appreciate the delicacy of the situation.
Aiming to please, Thomas had accommodated Mrs. Sherwood. Interestingly, instead of confronting either offender, or shutting off access, Rick told her that further views into the confidential files had been allowed.
“We thought, what better way to find out what was going on than to allow her to show us the way. Martin was, by then, working with us, so we let it ride.”
“What happened?”
“Something we didn’t expect. Martin flew to Arkansas, returned rattled and scared, reporting on a threat to his life. That’s when we called Cotton Malone.”
That shocked her. “How do you know Cotton?”
“I didn’t. But the chancellor knew about him and had me make some inquiries. I found out he once worked for you, but is now retired. So we called him at his Copenhagen bookstore and hired him.”
“Cotton is here? Working with you?”
“Actually he’s in Arkansas with a Ms. Vitt, going behind Martin Thomas to see what’s there.”
Usually it was the other way around, with her calling Cotton and either corralling or hiring him. He’d been her first recruit at the Magellan Billet and worked for her a dozen years before opting out early and moving to Denmark. At the moment all twelve of her current agents were either on assignment or busy helping her restart the Magellan Billet after its recent temporary shutdown by the new president and attorney general. She’d come to DC to meet with the new AG, trying to forge some sort of working relationship with someone who had no desire to work with her.
“Rick, it seems you have quite a mess. But you also have Cotton and Cassiopeia on this. They’re really good. So why am I here?”
“We’re going to take this new guy and Martin Thomas down. I need your assistance with that. Then I want you to help me find out what’s going on. This kind of thing is a little out of my area of expertise.”
The door to the security room opened and one of the technicians told them that the two men were on the move. They rushed back inside and watched the screen as the two left the library. Thomas was talking and gesturing toward the visitor, who still kept his back to them.
“He knows there are cameras,” she said.
“I see that.”
Thomas left through the exit doors. His guest followed. But as the man turned for the door his jacket swept open for an instant. He quickly caught it and rebuttoned it, but not before the lens captured a disturbing sight.
“Go back and replay that,” Rick said.
She’d seen it, too.
One of the men working the monitors typed on his keyboard. A frozen image appeared on one of the screens. Where the jacket gaped open the metallic butt end of a pistol could be seen in a shoulder harness.
“That’s not good,” she said. “You need to stop this now.”
“I have to see what they’re after.”
“You could be putting that librarian’s life in danger.” She could see his dilemma. “And you’re still not telling me everything, are you?”
“Will you trust me on this a little longer?”
That went without question. She’d known this man a long time.
On the monitor the two men left the Cullman Library and the lights extinguished. Another camera captured them in the hallway, walking down the corridors, finally entering a set of metal doors.
“That opens into a closed-off area that’s under construction,” Rick said.
She knew what had to be done.
“Tell me how to get there, undetected.”
* * *
She eased the metal door shut without a sound. A small radio was clipped to her waist, an ear fob and lapel mic providing her with hands-free communications.
“They’re still there,” Rick said in her ear. “Walk straight ahead and take the first right.”
She stood in a dim corridor, only occasional lights illuminating the cavernous space around her. Shadows hung thick but she could see the construction. Rick had told her that this part of the museum had once been used as a storage basement, though it actually sat at ground level. It had been closed for over a year, undergoing a renovation to add additional office space. Her entry point had been on the far side, away from where the two men had entered, the idea being to allow her to weave a path close and find out more about what was going on before they took anyone into custody. Security guards were waiting for her signal, posted at all the exit doors.
There was nowhere for anyone to run.
No working cameras existed inside the work site. Barricades prevented anyone from wandering into the area, but her two targets had ignored those. It seemed that whatever they were after must be here. She was concerned about the situation but assumed Martin Thomas was in no real danger since the other man was here for a reason and apparently needed Thomas to accomplish that.
Or at least that’s what she kept telling herself.
Carefully she wove her way through the maze of wires, pipes, ducts, and machinery to where Rick had told her to turn. She could hear the two men talking, their voices echoing thanks to the unfinished walls. Perhaps they’d come to this part of the building to further avoid the cameras? The presence of the gun, though, still hung in her mind. Thankfully she, too, was armed, her Magellan Billet–issued Beretta snug in a shoulder harness beneath her jacket. There was a time when she hadn’t carried a weapon. But she’d learned that it was better to b
e safe than sorry.
It should have been easy to keep her steps silent on the concrete floor, but a layer of sawdust, drywall shavings, and dirt challenged her footing. She marveled at how resilient places like this could be. This building had stood since 1910, remodeled over and over, each time adapting to an ever-changing world.
She closed the gap to the voices, finally stopping at a corner with bare Sheetrock walls.
“—appreciate what you’ve done. I truly do,” a male voice said.
“I’ve worked here a long time, but I have to tell you, the pay is not why you stay,” another voice said, which she assumed was Thomas.
“Those gold pieces I gave you should come in handy. Here’s three more for your trouble tonight.”
She heard the clink of metal.
“These are really rare,” Thomas said. “I’ve been looking into all this. You’re after more gold, aren’t you?”
A few seconds of silence passed.
“I can help you,” Thomas said.
“What is it exactly you want?”
“Part of the lost Confederate treasure you’re after.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Grant appraised Martin Thomas. Perhaps he’d underestimated this librarian. Diane had assured him that the man would be fully cooperative, enamored by the fact that she was the wife of a U.S. senator and a Smithsonian regent. And so far Thomas had been nothing but compliant, accessing the right records, providing needed information, even going to Arkansas to investigate things firsthand.
That had been important. Sentinels were still out there. Where? Nobody knew for sure. Only bits and pieces of the Order’s records had survived, though enough for Diane to learn that the Witch’s Stone might be under the care of a man named Terry Morse, whose family had longtime ties to the knights. So she’d suggested to Thomas that he have a look, which the librarian had done. They’d thought that a trip by someone from the Smithsonian might open doors that would have otherwise remained closed, but that had not been the case. They did learn, however, that a sentinel was still there.
