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“I

don’t know,” Emerson said. “He went off on his own. I believe he was interested in the planet exhibit.”

First responders arrived. Half ran to the area by the front entrance, and half stopped under the prop plane and looked up at Riley and Emerson.

“Hang on,” a museum employee called from the floor. “We’re going to lower the plane.”

Riley heard gears turning overhead. The cables holding the plane jerked, and the plane slowly inched down. Riley strained to see what was happening on the first floor. A lot of people were clustered around something lying on the ground. It was difficult to see from her vantage point, but she supposed it was a body. Not Wayan Bagus at least. No orange robe. And not Vernon. No white T-shirt.

Hands reached out to her, easing her off the wing. She set foot on terra firma and stood on shaky legs. She took a couple deep breaths. Emerson climbed down next without assistance.

A paramedic offered aid, but Riley dismissed him. She had a skinned knee and some leftover fright, but no other damage had been done. A museum PR person and a guard had questions. The information Riley could provide was brief. She was pushed from behind. She heard a man swear. She didn’t see him.

Emerson didn’t see the man either. He’d been in an adjoining room that had been set up to resemble the quarterdeck of an aircraft carrier. He’d run to the railing when he heard Riley call his name.

Riley and Emerson shared a moment of relief as they spotted Wayan Bagus standing quietly off to one side next to a uniformed police officer.

A few feet away from Wayan Bagus an overweight middle-aged man wearing a shirt he’d obviously just purchased from a gift shop was talking with a homicide detective.

“Never saw anything like it,” he said. “That big goon, who’s splattered all over the floor, bum-rushed the little monk in the orange dress and, poof, the little monk just sort of disappeared for a second.” He gestured a second time at the dead body. “His momentum kind of carried him right over the balcony on the second floor.”

Riley looked at Emerson. “Nobody can disappear.”

Emerson shrugged. “Taoists believe the greatest one to walk the earth is nobody.”

“So you’re saying he can disappear because he’s nobody?”

“I’m saying if he was nobody he could disappear.”

Riley shook her head. “That almost makes sense.”

The detective finished with the tourist, walked over to Riley, and handed her his business card. “I’ve already talked with museum security, and I’m guessing you’re Riley Moon. You were attacked first. Are you okay?”

Riley looked at her skinned knee. “Just a couple bumps and bruises. Who was he?”

“We were hoping you’d know. He didn’t have an ID. Hopefully we’ll be able to identify him once CSI has had a chance to examine the body. Is there anybody who would want to kill you? Any enemies?”

“So you’re thinking this man who tried to attack the monk is the same man who pushed me off the balcony?”

“We don’t know at this point, but it’s possible.”

“I suppose I might have some enemies,” Riley said, “but the Buddhist monk standing over there hasn’t any. Or, rather, he hadn’t any until today.”

The detective looked over at Wayan Bagus. “So you all know each other.”

“His name is Wayan Bagus. He’s from Bali. He’s my employer’s houseguest,” Riley said.

The plainclothes cop turned his attention to Emerson. “And Ms. Moon’s relationship to you is?”

“She’s my amanuensis.”

“Your what? Never mind. What you two do behind closed doors is none of my business.” The detective motioned to the police officer standing with Wayan Bagus. “I want to talk with the monk now.”

Wayan Bagus approached them and bowed slightly.

“So,” the detective said. “Is there anything you can tell me?”

“Anything?” Wayan Bagus asked.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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