Christmas Male(34)
Fiona could understand and sympathize with a certain level of annoyance. After all, a nearly priceless necklace had been stolen from the National Gallery on her watch. But from the moment she’d glimpsed Watkins standing just outside the door of her office, she’d also sensed a quick temper and something else.
As much as she hated to admit it, she wished that D.C. hadn’t wanted to go off on his own. She would have appreciated his take on the special exhibits director.
The line to get in to see the Rubinov extended down the main hallway of the gallery and all the way out to the street. Though she’d half expected to, Fiona hadn’t spotted D.C. standing in it. His “plan” had been to split up once they reached the Smithsonian. That way, he could continue to fly under the radar of both the press and the museum officials, seeing what information he could dig up as typical tourist. He was also going to talk to Bobby Grant, the helpful guard he’d spoken to the day before. Fiona envied him his freedom.
A sign in the open doorway to the exhibition room announced that the current wait to see the Rubinov was one hour. She figured that had been approximately the time it had taken her to get past the press and the TV cameras camped out in front of the gallery and cut her way through a mountain of red tape and two administrative assistants to get into Charity Watkins’s inner sanctum.
Once there, she’d been told Ms. Watkins was in a meeting and would be with her shortly. Fiona had checked her watch twice and was debating interrupting the meeting when two women had stepped out into the waiting room. She’d recognized them instantly from the press clipping in Amanda’s folder.
The older of the two was Regina Meyers, Gregory Shalnokov’s longtime personal assistant. The younger woman was Charity Watkins. The exhibits director wore her straight blond hair loose, and it flowed smoothly down her back in a style that reminded Fiona of Alice in Wonderland. However, the print dress and red blazer had a lot more style than Alice ever had.
The two women were talking in low voices, and Fiona only caught a few of the words.
“Under control…” the older woman said.
“Dollar for…heard that…her fault…outsiders…”
It wasn’t so much the words as the tension in the younger woman’s voice that made Fiona’s eyes narrow in on her. She might have heard more if one of the administrative assistants hadn’t entered and said, “Ms. Watkins, Lieutenant Gallagher is here to speak to you.”
Both women whirled to face her. Fiona read surprise on Regina’s face, but she was almost sure it was fear she saw on Charity Watkins’s. Regina hurried forward with her hand extended. “I’m Regina Meyers, and I’m so pleased to have the opportunity to extend Mr. Shalnokov’s personal thanks for everything you’re doing. Captain Gibbs-Mitchell tells me that we might have lost the Rubinov forever if it hadn’t been for you.”
Running into Dr. Meyers was a bonus. Fiona took her hand and found herself looking into pale green eyes that held both warmth and sincerity. “I’m happy that the theft wasn’t successful.”
“Do you have any idea when you’ll be making an arrest? I’d like to be able to set Mr. Shalnokov’s mind at ease.”
“We’re investigating several leads.” Fiona smiled at the older woman. “I understand that the lock on the display case could only be deactivated by a recording of Mr. Shalnokov’s voice. Can you tell me why he insisted on that precaution?”
Something—annoyance perhaps—flickered briefly over Regina’s face. “Mr. Shalnokov has his eccentricities. He’s always been worried that someone would succeed in taking the Rubinov from him.”
“But then why did he put the necklace up for sale at Christie’s two years ago?”
Some of the warmth faded from Regina’s eyes. “I’m sure he had his reasons. But he quickly changed his mind. He has a very close connection to the stone. I don’t believe he ever intends to part with it.” With a nod, she said, “I won’t take up any more of your time.”
“I may need to talk to you again,” Fiona said.
Regina took a card from her purse. “Just give me a call.”
As Meyers left, Charity Watkins remained in the doorway of her office, blocking the entrance and frowning at Fiona. Her mood didn’t improve when Fiona asked to be given a tour of the exhibition.
The room housing the Rubinov was a long rectangular space, and the moment Fiona stepped into it, she knew that D.C. was already there. She felt his presence along her nerve endings.
She hadn’t thought, hadn’t let herself think about what they’d done in Amanda Hemmings’s apartment. But now, the idea of repeating the experience flashed brilliantly into her mind. She felt her heart race and yearning built in her body. And when she found herself scanning the crowd, hoping for a glimpse of him, she ruthlessly turned her attention to Charity Watkins. “Were there this many viewers yesterday?”