Duty Bound Guardian. Terri Reed

Fred. His shoulders sagged, his chin dipped to his chest. “Wonderful news.”

      “Has there been trouble here before?” Adam asked. “Other break-ins?”

      “No break-ins.” Fred lifted his head. “We paid a mighty steep price for the security system that seems to have failed.” His eyebrows pinched together as he threw a furtive glance at Lana. “She has had some personal issues. The police were called, but I stay out of my employees’ business.”

      Lana let out a small gasp.

      Adam raised his eyebrows at her. “What trouble?” Could this have anything to do with the break-in? With Rosa’s murder? Michael Jeffries’s?

      “My ex-husband. It was handled.”

      Fred’s gaze shifted to the destroyed display case. “At least the Golden Arrow is safe. Where is it?”

      “The crime scene techs have it,” David answered.

      Fred’s mouth twisted. “Please tell your people to be careful. It is old and very fragile.”

      “They are being very careful,” David assured him. “Mr. Floyd, we’ll need you to inventory the museum to be sure that nothing is missing. I will also require a list of employees and their contact info.”

      Adam wanted to see that list, as well.

      Fred nodded vigorously. “Of course. Whatever I can do to help you find the person who did this.”

      David tipped his chin at the crime scene tech making his way toward them. “Ah, here’s the arrow.”

      Adam and Ace moved out of the way so the tech could hand Floyd the artifact. Once Floyd had the arrow in his hands, his frown deepened. He inspected all aspects of the gold piece.

      Vehemently shaking his head, he held the arrow out like a deadly snake about to strike. “This is a fake. A collectible that we sell in the gift shop.” He pointed to a stamped imprint on the fletching. “See?”

      Adam’s gaze swung to Lana. She’d turned a sickly shade of green. Her hand went to her mouth. Panic flared in her eyes. “If that’s a fake, then the intruder got away with the real one.”

      * * *

      Lana’s throat constricted. Her lungs burned as oxygen refused to enter or leave. Her mind rebelled at what she’d just heard. The arrow had been stolen. A fake one put in its place.

      With her prints on it.

      She needed to sit before her legs gave out beneath her. She stumbled to the cushioned bench next to a wooden replica of the rowboat that brought General George Washington across the Delaware.

      Breathe, she commanded herself. She gulped in air. This couldn’t be happening.

      She bent forward and put her head on her knees, hoping to stop the room from spinning. Please, dear Heavenly Father...I don’t know what to do here. I need You.

      Would this turn of events prevent her from gaining custody of her nephew? Poor Juan. Her heart ached for the little orphaned boy.

      Two black-booted feet appeared in her line of vision. Then a wet nose nudged the side of her face. Ace. She wanted to slip her arms around the beast and take the comfort he offered but she had a feeling Adam would not be pleased. He hadn’t been happy when the dog wanted her to pet him. Hugging the animal would probably send the officer into a seizure.

      A hysterical laugh gurgled in her chest. She bit the inside of her cheek to contain it. The last thing she wanted to do was give Adam any more ammunition to think she was guilty. Acting crazy would surely put her high on his list of suspects. It already looked bad with her prints on the fake arrow that had been placed in the display case.

      “How do you suppose your prints found their way to the bogus relic?” Adam’s rich voice invaded her head, giving voice to her thoughts.

      She straightened. The assessing way he stared at her made her want to squirm. She lifted her chin and stared back. “I don’t know. I was unconscious.” She flinched at the hard suspicion filling his blue eyes. “You have to believe me. I didn’t have anything to do with the theft.”

      He examined her face, and she wasn’t sure what he searched for. But she hoped he saw her innocence. Acid burned in her stomach. Her blood ran cold. “Why would someone want to frame me for stealing the Golden Arrow after they knocked me out?”

      His eyes narrowed. “That’s a good question. If you aren’t involved, then someone sure has gone to a lot of trouble trying to make it appear as if you were. Who has a grudge against you?”

      “The only person I can think of is my ex-husband.” But that didn’t make sense. Mark pressed her to return to him, claiming he loved her and would behave better if she only gave him a second chance. He wouldn’t do something like this. He wanted her under his control, not in jail. There had to be another explanation.

      “Tell me about him.”

      She swallowed the shame rising up to choke her. She didn’t want to delve into her past with this man. But he was an officer of the law and if she refused to open up he’d assume she was hiding something. “You already know I have a civil protection order against my ex-husband.”

      Adam gave a short nod.

      “Before I took out the order, Mark showed up here drunk and made a scene. The police had to be called. They made him go away. That incident prompted me to file for the protection order.”

      Adam’s lips pressed together. “Do we have permission to search your office?”

      The abrupt question jarred her. “I have nothing to hide.”

      “Good. Then there should be nothing for us to find.” After instructing a guard to watch her, Adam led Ace away.

      Should she follow him? Part of her wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. But the part of her that had fueled her determination to make something good out of her life wouldn’t allow her to sit idly by while everything she’d worked so hard for was being torn apart.

      She scrambled off the bench and rushed down the hall. No way was she going to sit around as if she were guilty. She had Juan to think about now. Not just herself.

      * * *

      Adam entered Lana’s office, assessing the space. The desk was cluttered with stacks of paper and pens. Behind the desk sat a bookcase filled with leather-bound books. A wilting fern in a brightly painted pot sat on top of a file cabinet in the corner. The lack of a window gave the room a cave-like feel.

      A laptop sat precariously close to the edge of the desk as if Lana had pushed it aside to clear space on the desktop to work. A printer was on a small credenza next to the bookshelf. Two framed certificates hung on the wall next to the door, placed so that when she looked up from working she’d see the testament to her schooling. No personal pictures, nothing to indicate Lana had a life outside the museum.

      The lack of personal touches acutely reminded him of the first time he’d met Lana and the coldness he’d seen in her eyes upon learning of her sister’s murder. Lana had clammed up tight then and in the hospital when he’d probed into what she knew of her sister’s life and what had led to their estrangement.

      “Look through everything,” he said to the officers filing in behind him. David had consented to Adam taking over this part of the investigation while the detective dealt with Mr. Floyd.

      Donning protective gloves, Adam rounded the desk and pushed back the chair, intending to sit. The chair leg caught on the strap of a duffel bag. He bent down to unhook the wheel, then lifted the bag to place it on the seat. Carefully, he drew the zipper back.

      Inside were stacks of crisp one-hundred-dollar bills.

      His breath lurched.

      “Let me in! It’s my office.”

      Lana’s voice echoed inside Adam’s head. “Let