Chapter Seven
Jesse had textedBryce the morning following their hot, but interrupted, date. He was pretty sure they’d had an amazing time, despite Bryce being uneasy when Jesse revealed he worked for the FBI. Hell, Bryce had said he wanted to try a relationship. But when Jesse tried to set up the next date, Bryce had come back with a surprise.
I want to, but I need to think about it.
The text threatened to haunt Jesse’s dreams, and it might have, only Jesse hadn’t remembered what his dreams were the last couple of nights. After sending backLet me know what you decide, Jesse made his new case a priority. He spent the rest of the weekend researching the Valless collection and the statue that had gone missing. By Tuesday morning he still didn’t have a response from Bryce, but he had discovered that the stolen statue had a twin. And, as strange as it was, the statue was on display in a museum in Forest Park, just across the street from the Valless mansion.
Milton swung the car door shut and glared across the parking lot. “You’re sure this is where you want to go, rookie?”
“They have an exhibit filled with local artists, including Valless’s grandfather,” Jesse replied.
“Yeah, but I don’t see how that’s important.”
“I watched the footage from the mansion maybe a dozen times last night.” After making sure his car was locked, he headed toward the street that wound through the park. Traffic was light, but he needed to wait a moment before it was clear enough to walk. “The thief didn’t hesitate. He smashed through the glass pane with a crowbar, then went straight to that statue. The footage cuts out just before we would have seen his face, but there’s no mistaking the behavior. He had one goal. That statue.”
“And you think that’s significant?” Milton said.
Considering how Jesse had felt standing in that room, and the information he’d gleaned from online forums, he did. He had delved into theories about shared consciousness and Akashic fields before. Even his research into Crowley Construction raised questions about psychic resonance and pressure, but he’d never considered the effect on an individual, only the group response. He’d looked at quantities of data for trends, not specific points for behavior. Had the thief been under the influence of that particular statue? Could anobjectwant something?
He wasn’t willing to share those questions or theories with Milton. With the way his partner had brushed off Renee Valless’s odd attitude, Jesse was certain Milton didn’t believe in paranormal conspiracies. He could hardly tell him that the idea to check the museum came from a hunch he’d picked up in an online forum dedicated to psychic mysteries.
“Either he knows its value, or he needs it for something else,” Jesse said. “And if one statue has value, then the other one does. It’s actually a set of three, but the third one is in Boston.”
“I’m thinking we need to toss this case back to the SLMPD and wash our hands of it,” Milton replied. “Ronald Valless might think he can summon the FBI to handle things for him, but this falls out of our jurisdiction.”
“Unless it’s sold over state lines, taken over them, or we can connect it to a problem at the museum. All of which is entirely possible.” Jesse went up the long staircase toward the art museum.
Milton stayed right on his heels. “And if none of that happens, you’re wasting our time.”
“Only a day. You’ll have plenty of defensive points to keep Hadler off your back,” Jesse replied.
“Ah, to be young and full of energetic enthusiasm,” Milton said sarcastically.
Jesse was beginning to understand why Milton hadn’t risen through the ranks during his nearly twenty years as an agent. He hoped he’d never get so curmudgeonly.
The museum had a large sign boasting the opening of a new exhibit. “Horror imagined through the minds of local artists!”
“Because a private gallery full of the shit wasn’t creepy enough, someone had to go and make one accessible to the public,” Milton muttered.
As they reached the admissions counter, Milton’s phone rang and he excused himself, heading back outside to take the call.
Better that Jesse take the chance to gather as much information as he could without Milton’s interruptions or negative attitude. No patrons were waiting in line, so Jesse made his way to the counter.
The young man staffing the register plastered on a fake smile. “Hi, can I help you?”
Jesse drew his badge out of his suit jacket pocket and showed it to him. “Agent Dawes. I’d like to talk to the head of the museum and your head of security.”
The young man touched Jesse’s badge and his eyes went wide. “Um. Okay. I—I would need to find them. I think they might be busy. Do you want to wait here?”
“I need to take a look in your new exhibit, too.”
“The Horror Show? It’s on the first floor. On the left.”
“Thank you. Tell them I’m in there.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jesse put his badge away and headed into the exhibit.
