Christmas Male(16)
“So what role did Amanda Hemmings play in all of this?”
Fiona forced her attention back to Natalie.
“Is she a key figure or has she been duped? My sense from my brief chat with General Eddinger is that she’s favoring the duped scenario.” Natalie had angled her chair so that she could prop up her feet on a neighboring banquette. One hand rested on her belly, the other tapped a pencil on a slim notebook. Elegant was the word that always came to Fiona’s mind when she thought of her boss. Tonight, Natalie wore her reddish-gold hair up, and in the black silk pant suit, she might have stepped right off the pages of a stylish fashion layout that targeted pregnant moms. “What does your instinct tell you, Fiona?”
“I don’t know enough about her yet. When I first saw her lying there on the ground, I didn’t recognize her as the young woman who’d walked into my office that day. She’d been so enthusiastic about doing something for the men at Walter Reed, it’s hard to believe she’d get involved in something like this. She came up with idea of having all the volunteers wear black with Santa hats and red scarves, as a kind of uniform that would set them apart from all the other volunteers that are asking for donations at this time of year. And yet, she had the necklace in her pocket.”
Natalie waited, saying nothing.
“I can theorize and analyze my gut feelings about how the stone got there and why someone hit her over the head in the sculpture garden,” Fiona continued. “But the only thing I’m pretty certain of is that she couldn’t have done it alone.”
“Chance agrees,” Natalie said. “He personally oversaw the security setup for the Rubinov exhibit. He believes there had to be someone on the inside. Even a top-notch hacker would have needed information.”
“I need to talk to Amanda. The latest news I have is she’s still unconscious and they’ve scheduled her for a CAT scan. They’re going to call me as soon as they know more about the extent of her injuries. I’ll need a search warrant for her apartment.” Fiona opened her purse and flipped open her notebook. “I got the address off the ID in her wallet.”
Natalie copied it on the pad in front of her. “I’ll put the warrant in the works first thing in the morning. In the meantime, I’ll send a patrol car over to keep an eye on the building.”
“And the two uniforms you sent to the hospital—can they stay? I think we ought to keep someone on duty outside her room once she’s assigned to one.”
“You’re worried about her.”
Fiona lifted, then dropped her shoulders. “There’s someone out there who brought a gun down on her head. And he’s got two buddies.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Natalie shifted slightly in her chair. “For the moment, only a very few of us know that the Rubinov was stolen. Chance will let the owner know, of course. Chance’s company will want answers. If someone has broken through the security at the National Gallery, who’s to say they won’t try again?”
Pausing, Natalie rubbed her hand over her belly. “Chance will work as closely as he can with you on this, but our little bundle of joy may put in an early appearance and distract him. First thing in the morning, he’ll inform key people at the National Gallery. After that, the news will start leaking to the media. I’d like to keep the spotlight off of exactly how the diamond was recovered for as long as we can.”
“The less the thieves know about what we know, the better,” Fiona mused.
“Exactly. So…” Natalie closed her notebook and leaned back in her chair. “Since Chance and I could be sidelined at any time, it’s more important than ever that you work well with your partner. What do you think of Captain D. C. Campbell?”
Fiona noted that her new partner had snagged himself a plate of food from one of the several laden buffet tables.
“He’s resourceful.”
“And attractive.”
“That, too.”
“What else can you tell me about him?”
“He’s smart. In spite of the cane, he handles himself well.” She told Natalie about the aborted snatch and run. “And if he hadn’t driven off the man who attacked Amanda Hemmings, Chance wouldn’t be returning the Rubinov to the National Gallery tomorrow morning.”
“Smart and resourceful. Those were two of the words Chance used when he described D.C. Unorthodox was another. But Chance says he gets results. My husband wouldn’t have stopped the art thefts in Baghdad without his help.”
“What did he do?”
Natalie’s lips twitched. “He disguised himself as a buyer for some of the art and Chance posed as his gay lover.”