Justice Buried Page 4
The girl tilted her head up at Kelsey. “And how to run. I don’t think he runs much.”
Let it go, kiddo. She smiled brightly at Tomlinson. “We’d love it if Billy could come to the park with us sometime.”
“I’ll speak to my daughter and tell her to expect a call from you.” He eyed his grandson. “He doesn’t get much socialization, so interaction with your niece would be excellent.”
Whatever happened to just letting kids play?
“I’ll see you Monday.” Kelsey pulled a reluctant Lily away.
Lily pouted. “But I thought you were going—”
She swooped the child up in her arms. “We don’t want to hurt his feelings, right?”
“Why are you whispering?” Lily’s plaintive voice carried over the buzz of the crowd.
“Shh. I’ll explain in a minute, okay?” She hurried toward where Brad was standing.
“Are you sure she’s not yours?” he asked.
She ignored his remark and made a beeline to a side room. “Come meet my parents and sister. And my uncle,” she said over her shoulder. As they entered the room, her stepfather, Sam, turned from talking to his brother, and her mother and sister waved them over. She didn’t see her brother-in-law.
“Sabra, did you lose someone?” Kelsey asked. Sam met Brad with an outstretched hand.
“Lily!” her sister said. “I thought you were with your dad.”
“Daddy had a phone call, and he told me to talk to Billy until he finished. Billy’s in my kindergarten class.”
“That was nice that your friend is here. And thanks for corralling her,” Sabra said to Kelsey. Then under her breath, she said, “I’m going to ring Mason’s neck for not watching her better.”
“No, Billy’s not nice!” Lily folded her arms. “He’s mean.”
Kelsey smoothed her niece’s curls back. “He wasn’t being mean. He was just being a boy. We have to overlook things like that until we can show them differently. Okay?”
The glower slowly faded, and Lily nodded. “I guess.” Then her face brightened. “Tomorrow is church day, and Mama said I could sit in big church. You coming?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she replied.
“Good. You can sit with me.” Then she wiggled out of Kelsey’s arms. “Aunt Kelsey asked if Billy could come for a play date at the park,” she said to her mom. “Can we do it tomorrow after church?”
“We’ll see,” Sabra said.
Satisfied, Lily skipped over to the polar bear display, and Sabra eyed Kelsey. “Play date, huh? Was she about to beat him up?”
“Something like that. His grandfather thought it’d be great for Billy to socialize. I’ll iron out the details with Billy’s mom, unless you want to. She’ll be expecting a call.” When Sabra continued to frown, Kelsey said, “Lily was definitely ready to pound the kid, and I thought it’d be a way to smooth things over.”
“I think I have her number.” Her sister shook her head. “I swear, sometimes I think Lily is mine in name only. She got all of your genes even if we’re not blood kin.”
Kelsey laughed. “It’s my revenge for you being so ladylike.” And the pretty one in the family. She pulled Brad forward. “Have you met my date? Mom and Sam already know him.” At least she figured they did since they set the date up.
“I was wondering—”
“Then wonder no more. Brad Hollister, my sister Sabra O’Donnell.”
Interest flicked across her sister’s face and Kelsey could see the wheels turning in Sabra’s brain. Before the night was over, Kelsey and Brad would be an item.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Brad.” Then she turned to Kelsey. “That dress is drop-dead gorgeous on you.”
It felt more like putting lipstick on a mop head. Although she’d have to admit, while she didn’t feel gorgeous, tonight she did feel elegant in pearls and the form-fitting sheath Sabra and her mother had bought. Getting used to the blonde spikes would take time.
“Nice to meet you,” Brad said. “But I don’t remember you from high school.”
“You and Kelsey were ahead of me,” Sabra said. “You do know our parents, right?”
“Your dad, yes,” he said. He turned to her mother, who had been standing quietly in the background. “Mrs. Allen, I believe you know my mom.”
“Barbara is one of the most genuine people I know, not to mention the sweetest,” Cynthia Allen said. “I hope you don’t mind that you were volunteered for tonight. We had an extra ticket, and it is for a good cause.” Her face colored. “The fundraiser, you know.”
Kelsey pretended she was on a beach thousands of miles from Memphis. She could not believe her mother had just said that.
Brad squeezed her hand. “I’m actually glad I was volunteered. I’m really enjoying myself.”
Sam Allen cleared his throat. “Brad, I’d like you to meet my brother, Grant. He’s a trustee here at the Pink Palace Museum too.”
“Where have you been keeping yourself?” Kelsey asked her uncle. She shot her stepfather a question with her eyes. Did Grant know she was working with security?
“Here and there,” Grant said, wrapping her in a hug. “I understand you’re finally coming to work at the museum. Conservator, right?”
“Yep. I’m looking forward to it.” She disentangled herself from the embrace and kissed him on the cheek. Grant had always taken an interest in her, often slipping her spending money during her studies abroad when she was younger. In his early sixties, he stood a head taller than Sam. “Thank you if you had anything to do with the museum hiring me.”
Grant grinned at her. “Nope. Didn’t know about it until Sam told me half an hour ago.” He glanced toward the banquet room. “I believe the caterers have everything set up. What do you say we grab a plate?”
A few minutes later, Kelsey balanced a plate of barbecue and coleslaw as she looked for a table. “How’s this?” she asked, nodding toward one in the corner.
“Fine by me,” Brad said. “You have an interesting family. I heard you tell Lily you’d go to church with her. Which church?”
“The Orchard.”
His eyes widened. “You’re kidding. I don’t remember seeing any of you there.”
“It’s a big church. Not sure why you haven’t seen Sabra and Lily, but I usually get there late, so I sit in the back.” So she could be the first one out the door. But not tomorrow. Sabra liked to sit up front. She set her plate on the table. “Would you like me to get you a glass of tea when I get mine?”
“You’re my date, remember? I’ll get them both.” He smiled at her. “Sweet or unsweet?”
“Sweet, and lemon, please.” While he walked toward the beverage bar, she scanned the room. Mr. Rutherford had said all the players would be here tonight, and she looked for anyone suspicious. A sea of Ralph Lauren and Armani sport coats filled her line of vision.
And then there was Brad, who was walking toward the table with their tea. He carried himself with the same confidence as the other men in the room—the movers and shakers of Memphis. He’d shed his navy sport coat when he set his plate down, and he looked eye-catching with his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the neck and tie loosened.
“I never thought of you as nerdy even if you did have a crush on me.” The memory of how he’d looked at her outside the museum earlier hitched her heart. It almost erased the memory of his expression when he climbed out of the Mustang, looking as though he’d rather be getting a root canal than escorting her to the fundraiser.
Maybe he’d even thought she was pretty when he first saw her. Kelsey brushed the thought away. Men always let her down. Even if he was right that she’d had a crush on him in her senior year. Which he pretty well destroyed when he rejected her as a lab partner.
She smiled as he handed her a glass. “Thank you.”
Music played in the background for the next half hour as they made small talk about high school and ate the barbecue. When they finished, he looked over the dessert list.
“That
was so good, I’m not sure I have room for dessert,” he said.
“I’m pretty sure Corky’s catered it,” she said. Finally she couldn’t stand it any longer. “Why did you agree to come tonight?”
His mouth twitched. “Honestly? I didn’t see any way out of it without embarrassing someone. But it hasn’t been bad at all. The food was good.”
But not her company. “We can leave any time now—you don’t have to stay for the pitch.”
“Pitch?”
“For money.” He couldn’t stay. She had work to do, and she couldn’t do it with him here. “Everyone here is expected to cough up at least a grand after dinner.”
He paled. “Everyone?”
“Well, not you. Or me. Sam will, and most of the businesspeople.”
“Oh. Won’t it seem rude for me to eat and run?”
“Not if I leave with you.” She smiled. “And frankly, it’ll be a relief to get out of this dress and these shoes.”
Brad laid the dessert list down. “You really do look very beautiful tonight.”
Her heart skipped a beat, and she shifted her gaze away from him, waiting for him to crack a joke. Laser surgery may have fixed the glasses she’d worn as a teenager and scissors tamed the mop of hair, and once she’d quit running track she’d filled out, but in her mind’s eye, she hadn’t changed—she was still that nerdy girl who kept everyone at bay to keep from being hurt.
She turned and caught him staring at her. The man was serious. She’d forgotten how his hazel eyes had flecks of blue and green in them. Her fingers trembled as she reached for her glass. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”
“It’s hard for you to accept a compliment.”
“I wouldn’t know—I haven’t had that many.”
“I don’t believe that.”
She frowned, and for the first time all day realized a man like Brad probably had plans for tonight. “You didn’t break a date to come here, did you?”
“I . . . don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He had. Now she felt horrible. “It just dawned on me that it’s Saturday night, and you probably already had a date that you must have broken. I’m sorry that you were put in a difficult position.”
“Oh.”
He seemed about to say more when the toastmaster stood. Kelsey grabbed his hand. “Let’s split before we get trapped. Maybe you can still salvage that date.”
6
THE HUMID NIGHT AIR enveloped them as they stepped through the doors and out onto the portico. Kelsey fanned herself with the program she’d picked up. It wouldn’t be long before the summer heat would be the main topic of conversation everywhere.
“Are you leaving as well?” Brad asked.
How easily a lie would have rolled off her tongue six months ago, and she was tempted even now since she was leaving the fundraiser but not the grounds. “I’ll probably hang around a little longer after I walk with you to your car,” she said and looked up at him. Even with her strappy three-inch heels, he towered over her, and whatever she’d intended to say was suddenly gone. “How tall are you, anyway?”
“What?”
“I don’t recall you being so tall.” Or handsome. The years had been good to him, allowing his square jaw to catch up with the narrow face that had filled out, adding laughter lines around his eyes.
“I’ve been six-three forever. You don’t remember me playing center in basketball?”
“I don’t ever recall going to a basketball game in high school.”
He laughed. “Oh, that’s right. You were too busy making valedictorian.”
“Is that an insult?”
“Never. I thought it was quite an accomplishment for you to finish high school in three years. And for the record, by the end of the year, I realized having you for a lab partner probably kept me from failing chemistry.”
She studied him, looking for any hint of sarcasm. “You could have told me.”
“You’re kidding. I wasn’t about to admit anything to you. Not after the way you looked down at me with that snooty nose of yours.”
“I never . . .” The look on his face stopped her. Maybe she had, but not because she thought she was better than he was. Kelsey had been aware that her classmates thought she was high and mighty because of Sam’s wealth, and she never did anything to correct their impression. In high school it hadn’t taken her long to figure out most kids wanted to be around her because they thought she was rich. Staying aloof kept her from being hurt. “Sorry if I came off that way. It was a coping mechanism.”
She felt for the strand of hair she usually twisted, forgetting for a second that Sabra’s hairdresser had cut her hair really short. “Anyway, thanks for showing up. And apologize for me to whoever you had a date with.”
“There’s no one to apologize to,” he said softly. “Hasn’t been for a while now.”
If it weren’t for the hurt that darkened his eyes, she wouldn’t have believed him. “Any time you want to hang out, give me a call.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I’m free most weekends.”
He gave her a lopsided grin as he tossed his keys in the air and caught them. “I might just do that,” he said and unlocked the door to his car.
Whatever possessed her to tell him that? They were so mismatched it was beyond the pale of possibility. And if he discovered she was the Phantom Hawk, he’d probably arrest her until Mr. Rutherford could explain.
She turned and hurried to her Jeep Wrangler that she’d parked in a dark, out-of-the-way space near the back of the building. Perfect for changing clothes. A few minutes later, she’d shed the stilettos and skinny black dress for sneakers and dark green climbing clothes. Once dressed, she fastened a pack around her waist that contained picks and other tools she might need. Then she slipped a coiled rope with a collapsible grappling hook at one end around her shoulder.
Adrenaline surged through her. Doing this tonight, when so many people were around, upped the stakes. And security would be focused on the front area of the museum and not the back where she would be.
Preliminary work this afternoon on the electronic security system had shown that the only outside security cameras in operation were the ones that monitored the entrances and exits. She hadn’t been able to hack into the system, but sometimes that took days. Tomorrow she planned to see if she could access the software that operated the cameras.
At this point, she believed she was dealing with someone who worked for the museum. An employee with access to the building and artifacts, but she needed to rule out an outside hacker and burglar, confirming what she wasn’t working with.
The stored artifacts were in a caged area on the second floor but were normally accessed through the first floor. Kelsey wanted to see if the storage area could be reached from the roof. She’d studied the layout of the Palace and decided her best option was to scale the back wall, using the drainpipe, if it would hold her weight.
Normally there was time to test that sort of thing out, but not this time—she wanted to have something to tell Mr. Rutherford Monday morning. She also didn’t like the lighted windows that were adjacent to the pipe, but it was the best way up.
She took her liquid chalk from the pack she wore around her waist. After squirting a few drops on her palm, she rubbed her hands together, making sure her fingertips were well covered. Then she took out the green beanie she’d bought that afternoon and pulled it low over her head, leaving it just high enough to see. If it hadn’t been May and already in the nineties, she would have bought a ski mask. The humidity was already making her forehead itch.
The pipe was sturdy enough for her weight, and it was secured to the pink Georgian marble with brackets that made resting places for her feet. As she started up, she hoped no one passing by the windows decided to look out, but no one should be in this wing of the building, anyway. With the brackets to start her off, she automatically changed to finding finger holds in the granite.
Rock
-climbing was a lot like her life. Just as she’d rehearsed techniques until she overlearned them and they became automatic, she’d rehearsed ways to keep people like Brad at bay. It wasn’t that he didn’t attract her—he did—and she no longer feared people liked her because of Sam’s money, but it was hard to unlearn something she’d practiced so long. She wasn’t sure she knew how to let anyone other than family into her life.
Before she realized it, she’d reached the flat roof on the second floor of the building. After uncoiling the rope around her shoulder, she expanded the grappling hook on the end and tossed it underhand like a softball to the top of the next roof.
It landed with a soft thud, and she pulled on it, testing to see if it had caught. It had, and she tested it again, making sure it would hold her weight. Laughter floated up from the parking lot below as a few guests departed. She waited until their taillights disappeared out of sight—no need to take a chance on them seeing her. Not that they probably would. There were no floodlights shining against the building on the back, a flaw she needed to point out to Rutherford.
Once she made it to the next roof, she walked the steep incline to the dormer window and tested to see if it would rise. Stuck fast. She scrambled across to the next gable and tried that window. Silently, it slid up. Victory!
Blood raced through her body, electrifying every nerve ending. The exhilaration from breaking into a building because she could almost scared her. Had her father felt this way when he’d stolen artifacts from the museum? Maybe there was such a thing as a thief gene.
Kelsey shook her thoughts away and climbed through the window. She was doing nothing illegal. A flashlight helped her navigate past the boxes stored in the alcove, and then she crept down the darkened stairs that led to the artifact room. The itching on her forehead had intensified, and she pushed the cap back on her head.
At the first landing, the stairs turned, revealing light in the room. She stopped midstep. It was Saturday night, so why were the lights on? The cleaning crew. She’d seen them in the drive earlier, but what if they were working this area? She eased further down until she could scan the floor, listening for anything that announced someone’s presence. All quiet.