“I appreciate it.” Connor nodded and stepped aside for Daria to exit the elevator when the doors slid open.

Thorpe stopped to talk to a uniformed officer in the lobby, and Connor and Daria continued on into the parking lot outside the emergency room.

“I hope the boy is going to be all right,” Daria said. “He looks so young.”

“It’s a damned shame he’s the one who’s taking the brunt of this. I wish there was some way we could get him to talk.” He took Daria’s hand as they walked to the car. “He’s obviously protecting someone. Maybe more than one someone.”

“Maybe your friend at the FBI will have some information for you today.”

“Yeah, we need a break.” He opened the car door for her. “How about if we stop somewhere on the way back to Howe and get some breakfast? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“I could definitely eat,” she said. When he got in behind the wheel, she asked, “Have you heard anything from Polly? Has she been able to determine if any of the artifacts in the galleries have been stolen?”

“I talked to her yesterday. So far, none of the galleries or museums appear to have been targeted.”

“So whoever it is, is only going after private collectors.”

“Because it’s easier to break into a private home than an institution.” He thought it over for a minute. “But if you’re trying to retrieve things that you believe are sacred, you’re on a sort of holy mission, right?”

“I would think so, yes,” she said, nodding.

“So if you’re doing holy work, it shouldn’t matter if the job is hard or easy, right? You just do it. You find a way to make it happen.”

“I guess so, if you believe you’re doing the work of the goddess. Especially this goddess, who is known to take no prisoners when she’s pissed off.”

“Who would be giving the orders on behalf of the goddess? The priestess, right?”

Daria nodded.

“So we have to figure out who the priestess is,” Connor said thoughtfully. “Obviously, it has to be someone who’s familiar with the culture. And someone who knew the artifacts were missing before you did.”

“The first murders were months ago. Someone had to had read the journals or seen the photos-or both-before the first murder,” Daria said.

He put on his turn signal and made a left into the parking lot of a small country restaurant that advertised breakfasts served until noon. “There can’t be too many people who have access to both. We just need to figure out who they are. But for now…first things first. I’m thinking coffee. Eggs. Bacon. Toast with marmalade…”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“Hey, it’s the least I can do, after dragging you away from a warm bed in the middle of the night.”

“It was the dragging away from a warm man that I objected to.”

He paused with his hand on the door handle.

“I will make that up to you.”

She smiled and opened the passenger door. “I’m counting on it.”

23

T hey were almost finished breakfast when Will Fletcher called Connor’s cell, but Connor had to go outside to take the call due to a bad connection.

He came back in a few minutes later and told Daria, “Nora Gannon checks out. There’s nothing in her background that raises a red flag.”

“One down. What about the others?”

“Will is still working on them. He’ll get back to me as soon as he has something else.” He looked at her empty plate. “Unless you’re going to order seconds, let’s go back to the house and take a look at those photos.”

“Good idea. I have a meeting with Louise this morning. I’d like to be on time.”

Twenty minutes later, they sat at the table in the kitchen at McGowan House, the stack of photographs between them.

“Still no golden griffins,” she noted. “No large statue of the goddess. No golden necklace.”

“Who had access to them? We keep coming back to the photos.” He tapped his fingers on the tabletop.

“There’s no way of knowing. Louise said that Vita found them in the basement of the administration building, but there’s no way of knowing if someone found them before she did.”

His phone rang before he could respond.

“Great. I’ll drive over right now. Thanks a lot.”

He hung up and told her, “Sweet Thing is ready to come home. Want to take a ride with me?”

“I would, except that I have that meeting with Louise and Olivia, the new public relations person, in five minutes. She wanted me to talk to her about Alistair and his expeditions, and what we want to accomplish by reopening the museum so she can start doing her thing. Louise and the trustees are afraid all the publicity about the murders is putting the school in a bad light, and they want to put the emphasis back on the museum.”

“Accentuate the positive.”

“So to speak.” She checked her watch. “I need to get over there now.”

He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her close. He kissed her mouth, then the tip of her chin. “Sweet Thing and I will be waiting for you when you get back.”

“How long do you think you’ll be?”

“Hour and a half, two hours, tops. Do you want me to wait so you can go with me?”

“I’d rather have her picked up sooner than later. Poor baby. She’s probably wondering what’s going on.” Daria grabbed her bag and slipped it over her shoulder. “I don’t expect this meeting to run too long. I should be back here by the time you are.”

“Great.” He stood and gave her one more kiss. “I’ll see you then.”

Louise was standing at the end of the conference table when Vita showed Daria into the office. Olivia was seated at the table with a notebook in front of her.

“How are you, Olivia?” Daria extended her hand to the trustee. “Louise tells me you’ve agreed to take on the media on the university’s behalf. You’re a brave woman.”

“I liken it to falling upon my sword for the greater good.” The carefully coiffed blonde smiled.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Daria inwardly grimaced at the image.

“Poor choice on my part.” Olivia rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Swell, Daria thought. A PR person who doesn’t think before she opens her mouth.

“We thought we’d put out a press release before we planned a real press conference.” Olivia paused. “You don’t suppose there will be any more murders, do you? I’d really like to avoid inviting the media to the school and then have to explain another murder.”

“There’s no way of knowing what’s going to happen.”

“Well, then, I suppose we can’t worry about it.” Louise pointed to a chair. “Daria, I’d like you to fill Olivia in on everything you know about your great-grandfather, his expeditions, the museum…all of it. Olivia, I expect you to take copious notes.”

Over the next hour, Daria shared everything she could think of, from the earliest stories she’d heard from her father to actually opening the crates in the museum basement and holding in her hands the very objects her ancestor had found.

“This is a wonderful story,” Olivia told her. “I think you’re definitely going to have to be at whatever media gathering we schedule. No one will be able to tell that story the way you just did. And I think I’d like you to look over the press release once it’s written, maybe add a little something in your own words, if you don’t mind.”

“I’d be happy to.”

“And I’m happy to see a positive light shining down on my hometown and my alma mater.” Olivia tucked her notes into her purse. “Louise, if we’re finished…?”

“If you’re satisfied that you have enough information, then I’d say we’re done.” Louise reached for the phone and pressed the intercom button. “Vita, could you step in here, please?”

“I’m more than satisfied. I’m going to run right home and work on this today.”