FRAMED

When a priceless artifact is stolen, museum curator Lana Gomez becomes the prime suspect. How can she hope to adopt her orphaned nephew if she’s a person of interest in a crime? Cooperating with Capitol K-9 Unit officer Adam Donovan doesn’t get her very far—the handsome cop thinks she’s hiding something. But when the real thief returns set on silencing Lana, it is Adam and his Doberman pinscher, Ace, who become her only defense against a madman who wants nothing more than to see Lana eliminated.

“You didn’t even know you had a little nephew?” Adam asked.

Lana’s heart pinched. She shook her head, wishing things had been different. “My sister and I were estranged.” The hurtful things Rosa had said cut so deep and were never far from Lana’s mind. There was so much about her sister she hadn’t known.

Adam stared intently at her, his Doberman pinscher—his partner—sitting patiently by his side. “What caused the rift between you?”

She bristled as a tidal wave of guilt swamped her. “That has nothing to do with what’s happening now.”

He stared at her. “Let me be the judge of that. It seems a little too coincidental that your sister meets an untimely death and then a month later there’s a break-in at your place of employment where you’re attacked, struck over the head and left for dead.”

* * *

CAPITOL K-9 UNIT:

These lawmen solve the toughest cases with the help of their brave canine partners

Protection Detail—Shirlee McCoy, March 2015

Duty Bound Guardian—Terri Reed, April 2015

Trail of Evidence—Lynette Eason, May 2015

Security Breach—Margaret Daley, June 2015

Detecting Danger—Valerie Hansen, July 2015

Proof of Innocence—Lenora Worth, August 2015

Duty Bound Guardian

Terri Reed

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

—2 Timothy 1:7

Continuities are a team effort so I’d like to thank my fellow authors Shirlee McCoy, Lynette Eason, Margaret Daley, Valerie Hansen and Lenora Worth, for all the feedback and support. I learn so much from working with you. Thank you also to the team at Love Inspired for making our books shine.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

Bible Quote

Acknowledgment

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

ONE

A soft thud, out of place and unexpected in the after-hours silent museum, broke Lana Gomez’s concentration. Her heart revved into overdrive and a shudder of fear scraped along her limbs. Her hand convulsed. Ink from the quill pen she was using to craft display labels created a blotched blob of black against the parchment-colored paper, completely ruining the effect of the old-fashioned script.

She wanted everything to be perfect for the upcoming gala. A thank-you celebration and to show off the recently acquired artifacts for the American Museum, a newer, privately held institute in the metro Washington, DC, area.

“Ugh!” Mad at herself for overreacting to the sound, she crumpled up the square sheet of card stock and grabbed a clean, blank one from the stack sitting on her mahogany desktop. “It’s Brad doing his rounds.”

Any second now the older gentleman would pop his graying head inside her office to check in with her. There was no reason to freak out.

Yet, the fine hairs on her arm slowly stood on end. A voice inside her mind mocked, Girl, as long as Mark draws breath, there will always be a reason to freak out.

On a shudder, she whispered, “Lord, I need Your peace right now.”

Blowing out a cleansing, calming breath, she refocused. She had so much work to do to make the gallery party a success. Her boss had gone on a weeklong vacation that morning, leaving her to do the majority of the planning. As the junior curator, part of her job was to seek out donors as well as valuable collectibles such as the ones currently on display.

The crown jewel of the newest collection was the beautiful Golden Arrow. The gold-plated, two-foot-long relic had once belonged to General George Washington, the first president of the United States of America.

A priceless piece of history.

Glass shattering jerked her attention to the closed office door.

Had Brad fallen? She needed to go help him.

Stepping out of her office into the gloomy innards of the museum, she faltered. Which part of the vast building did she check first?

The low lighting helped preserve the numerous relics and artifacts that lured many tourists and visitors away from the more famous galleries, but did little to dispel the shadows in the hall. She wished she had a flashlight.

All was quiet. Still. A chill hung in the air. The surreal sensation of being frozen in time and space, surrounded by bits of history dating back to the first settlers in Jamestown, assaulted her.

Normally, she loved to roam through the gallery, loved knowing the story behind each piece of art, loved presenting the story to the world so others could enjoy the heritage that came before them. But a strange eeriness invaded the space, leaving her breathless. Fear crept up her spine.

Overhead, the skylights revealed a black sky. The soft pinging of rain against the windowpanes made her think of the childhood nursery rhyme her mother would sing about April showers bringing May flowers.

Suddenly, a flash of lightning illuminated the main chamber, bouncing off shards of glass littering the floor beneath the case where the Golden Arrow rested on a swath of deep red velvet.

A big, bulky man, dressed from head to toe in white, hunched over the display case.

Lana’s pulse stalled. Thunder rumbled in her ears, and then rattled the windowpanes. The noise was real, outside of her head. Another flash of lightning revealed the man reaching for the arrow. Her eyes widened in horror. Adrenaline pumped in her veins and anger fueled the fire within. “No!”

Six months of martial arts training making her reckless, she charged the man, her sole focus on preventing him from taking the arrow. “Leave that alone!”

The man spun around. Large, round reflective sunglasses concealed his eyes, while a white ski mask covered the rest of his face. As quick as a snake, his hand grasped the arrow and yanked it from its bed. He hefted the arrow in large gloved hands like a baseball bat.

The slick soles of her pumps skidded on the marble floor in a futile effort to stop while velocity propelled her forward. Her only option was to get in close and strike the pressure points in simple attack mode to hopefully disarm him or at least make him back off and run away—without the Golden Arrow.

He swung. She ducked. A forceful current of air swept over her. He’d barely missed.

He released one hand from around the arrow’s shaft and latched on to her arm before she could jump away. With purposeful aim, she targeted the arrow-wielding hand and delivered a hard blow to the pressure point of his forearm muscle between the elbow and wrist with the sharp outside edge of the radius bone in her forearm. His grip loosened but he didn’t release the arrow.

Using the same hand, she immediately curled her fingers and used her fist in a hammer shot to his left rib cluster points. He doubled over, but recovered quickly and clutched a handful of her hair, yanking her close. She screamed and stomped down hard on his instep with the heel of her pump. The man grunted.

From the corner of her eye she saw the Golden Arrow swing toward her face. By reflex she raised her arm to ward off the blow. Too late. The hard metal connected with the side of her head in a sharp explosion of pain. Then all went black.

* * *

K-9 Officer Adam Donovan’s cell buzzed inside the breast pocket of his uniform shirt. He halted, staying out of the rain beneath the overhang covering the entrance to the E. Barrett Prettyman Federal Courthouse.

“Sit,” he murmured to his partner, Ace, a four-year-old, dark-coated, sleek Doberman Pinscher. The dog obediently sat on his right. Keeping Ace’s lead in his left hand, he answered the call. “Adam Donovan.”

By habit Adam scanned the crowds of tourists flooding the National Mall, on alert for any criminal activity. Not even nighttime or an April drizzle could keep sightseers in their hotels. To his right the central dome of the US Capitol building gleamed with floodlights, postcard perfect.

“Gavin here,” came his boss, Captain Gavin McCord’s deep voice. “You still at the courthouse?”

Adam had had a late meeting with the DA regarding a case against a drug dealer who’d been selling in and around the metro DC area. The elite Capitol K-9 Unit had been called in to assist the local police during a two-hour manhunt nine months ago. The K-9 unit was often enlisted in various crimes throughout the Washington, DC, area.

Ace had been the one to find the suspect hiding in a construction Dumpster outside of the National Art Gallery. The suspect took the DA’s deal and gave up the names of his associates rather than stand trial, which had been scheduled to begin later this week.

A victory on this rainy spring evening.

“Yes, sir.” Adam spotted a group of teenage boys huddled together giving a group of teen girls furtive glances. Ah, to be that young and impetuous again. He remembered his own junior high school field trip from Colorado to the nation’s capital. He’d fallen in love with DC that week. Never in his wildest imagining had he thought he’d end up working in the iconic city.

“There’s been a break-in at the American Museum and two of the museum employees have been assaulted,” Gavin stated.

“Injured or dead?” Adam asked, already moving down the steps toward his vehicle with Ace at his heels.

“Injured. The intruder rendered both employees unconscious, but the security guard came to and pulled the fire alarm, scaring off the intruder. Both have been rushed to the hospital on Varnum Street.” Gavin’s tone intensified. “But the other victim is who I’m interested in. Lana Gomez.”

The name rang a familiar chord in Adam. Dark eyes in a pretty face rose to the forefront of his mind. He and Ace had been in on the interview with Lana regarding her older sister, Rosa Gomez’s death last month.

Lana’s reaction, or rather lack of reaction, to the news of her sister’s untimely demise had been strange. She’d seemed anxious, not grief-stricken like he would have expected for a woman whose sister had just died and left a child behind. She’d asked the right questions, took notes on little Juan’s care but there had been something off about her. It bothered him enough that he’d checked on Lana’s alibi for the time of her sister’s death. It was solid.

He’d been surprised to learn Lana had not known of her nephew’s existence. However, she had said she’d contact a lawyer about petitioning for custody though she hadn’t appeared enthused by the idea. Last he knew two-year-old Juan still lived in the group foster home that was funded by Congressmen Jeffries and run by Adam’s captain’s fiancée, Cassie Danvers.

“You want me at the hospital?” He and Ace reached the white-and-blue Blazer with Capitol K-9 emblazoned across the sides.

Using the remote access in his pocket, Adam unlocked the kennel door that had been installed specially for the canine. The door popped open and Adam pointed; the dog jumped in and lay down, his ears up, his eyes watchful. Ace knew they were on a case.

They’d been partnered for three years now, ever since Adam signed on to the Capitol K-9 Unit after leaving the FBI.

The transition from agent to K-9 officer had a definite learning curve, but after completing the patrol dog training, he and Ace had developed a symbiosis that had Joe, Adam’s brother, convinced the dog could read Adam’s mind and vice versa. Maybe it was true. After living alone for most of his adult life, he certainly enjoyed having the canine as a roommate.

“Yes. I want you to interview Miss Gomez.” The timbre of Gavin’s voice dropped to a dark note. “If she awakens.”

* * *

Lana hated hospitals. The antiseptic smells, the sounds of beeping coming from the monitors showing her vitals, and the claustrophobic way the white, sterile walls closed in on her. The only bright spot was the window allowing morning sunlight to stream in despite the spring rain tapping at the glass.

A nurse—her name tag read Cindy—adjusted the IV fluids flowing through a tube attached to Lana’s arm. Lana pressed the buttons to automatically raise the back of the bed to a more upright position. “How much longer do I have to stay here?”

When she’d awakened after being admitted to the ER, she’d been told they were keeping her for observation because she’d lost consciousness. The doctor had her moved to a private room and told her to rest. She had and now she just wanted to go home.

The blonde gave her a kind smile. “The doctor will be in shortly. You took a nasty hit on the head.”

She didn’t need to be told. Her head throbbed where that awful man had used the beautiful arrow to knock her unconscious. She fingered the bandages covering her skull near her left temple. Her heart ached knowing she hadn’t been able to protect the arrow. The loss was too much to bear.

“Can I get you anything?” Cindy asked.

Lana heaved a sigh. Even to her own ears she sounded pitiful. “No, thank you, though.”

“All right. There’s the button if you need anything.”

Cindy walked out, leaving Lana to stare at the boring walls and stuccoed ceiling. A black television set mounted high on the wall showed a blank screen. She didn’t feel like watching the TV when her world was spinning out of her control. A white board with her name, the doctor’s name and a list of the medications she’d been given was fixed to the back of the bathroom door. Her life had been reduced to markings on a to-do list.

She gripped handfuls of the blanket. A deep-seated sense of loneliness settled over her like a shroud. She was alone in the world. There was no one to care that she was here. No one to visit her. All she had was her career. And now that she’d allowed the arrow to be stolen, no doubt her livelihood would be taken away, as well.

When her boss found out, he’d fire her. She hoped he didn’t cut his vacation short, but knowing Mr. Floyd he would. He’d had reservations about leaving her in charge to begin with, and now...well, she wouldn’t blame him for letting her go.

Dejection spread through her chest, making her heart heavy.

There was no way the courts would give her custody of her nephew, Juan, if she didn’t have a job.

Her head drooped to the side. A tear slid from the corner of her eye and trailed down her cheek. She hated feeling so pathetic. It had to be the painkillers. She normally wasn’t one to indulge in self-pity.

A sharp rap on the door brought her chin up. She hoped it was the doctor with discharge papers. “Come in.”

The door swung open. A large, black, intimidating-looking dog appeared, his claws tapping against the linoleum floor as he made a beeline for her bed.

And beside the animal came Officer Adam Donovan, dressed in his dark uniform and looking handsome despite the dampness clinging to his short-cropped, strawberry-blond hair.

Lana’s mouth went dry. The doctor had told her the police wanted to talk to her but he’d insisted they had to wait until morning. Why did it have to be this officer, with his icy blue eyes and thousand-mile stare?

Adam had been one of the elite K-9 unit officers present when Lana had talked to the director of the foster care where her nephew, Juan, had been taken after her sister, Rosa’s, death.

Hearing the devastating news of Rosa’s death and learning Rosa had a son—a child Lana had known nothing about—had frozen another portion of Lana’s heart. A familiar feeling, one she’d been living with since the day she’d heard of her parents’ horrific deaths five years earlier.

Adam had studied her as if he was trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together and didn’t like the picture emerging.

She mentally shrugged. Everyone dealt with sorrow differently. Her way was to contain everything inside. Not the healthiest way, but the only way she knew how to cope with the loss and tragedies and traumas that plagued her life.

“Officer Donovan.” The reedy wariness in her voice echoed inside her head, making her self-conscious of the fact she was in a vulnerable position with no ready means of escape. She smoothed her hands on the blanket as if somehow the motion would smooth her frayed nerves.

“Miss Gomez, I was glad to hear you’re recovering well.”

She doubted he’d felt much of anything regarding her health. He wanted information on the arrow. That was the only thing of importance. “I survived.”

“Yes, you did.” He stepped closer. The light coming through the window reflected in his blue eyes and made them appear almost translucent. “I have some questions regarding the break-in at the museum last night.”

“I hope I have answers.” Though she couldn’t think of anything she could say that might help him find the man who stole the artifact.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“It was late and I was working at my desk when I heard glass breaking. I went to see what was going on. I saw a man dressed all in white taking the Golden Arrow. I tried to stop him.” She fisted her hands at her sides. Frustration and anger and despair ran a race through her, making her head pound. “And lost.”

Something warm and rough touched the back of her clenched hand. The dog licked her hand again before resting his head on the bed to stare at her, his dark eyes watching her intently. She extended her fingers to rub them against the dog’s snout.

“Ace. Sit.”

The dog obediently sat. Her fingers curled.

“You didn’t see the intruder’s face?”

She lifted her gaze to meet his. “He wore sunglasses. Not the dark type but the reflective kind that were popular in the 1980s.”

“Aviators.”

“That’s it. His face was covered, too, with a ski mask.”

“Could you tell skin color?”

“Caucasian, maybe. Definitely not African-American.”

“Height?”

She struggled to remember. “It happened so fast. I’m pretty sure he was taller than me.”

“What did the intruder use to hit you over the head?”

“The Golden Arrow.” She rubbed her dry lips. “I hope he didn’t ruin it.”

“Do you have any idea why you were attacked?”

Huh? “He came to steal the arrow.”

“But he didn’t.”

She shot upright. “What?” Pain shot through her temple and exploded inside her skull like a peony shell shot into the sky on the Fourth of July. She flopped back and stared at the officer. “What did you say?”

“I talked briefly with dispatch. They said as far as the DC police could tell nothing was taken. Only one display case had been damaged.”

“The intruder smashed the glass covering the Golden Arrow.” Confusion made her head pound. “The arrow was still in the display?”

“Evidently. But the police won’t know for sure if anything is missing or not until someone from the museum can verify that. Apparently your boss is out of town.”

She nodded as relief flooded her system. “If the thief didn’t take the arrow then why did he break in?”

“You said your attacker was dressed in white? Not black.”

“White. In fact, if he hadn’t been standing beside the display he would have blended in with the white marble walls.” She propped herself up on her elbows. “I need to go over there now.” Make sure for herself that the arrow was safe.

“The doctor hasn’t released you yet.”

She bit her lip and lay back. Panic washed through her as her thoughts spun. Had the thief damaged the arrow when he hit her over the head, rendering the artifact worthless? Or at the very least lessening its value? Was that why he left it behind? But even a piece of the arrow would be worth something to someone.

She pinched the bridge of her nose in distress.

“Could this have anything to do with your sister’s death?” Adam asked.

Her breath stalled. Her gaze shot back to his. “I told you before, we weren’t close, so I don’t see how her death and the break-in could be related. She fell off a cliff while out walking in President’s Park at night. Right?” As far as she knew the police had yet to determine whether Rosa’s death was an accident or a robbery gone wrong. The thought of her sister’s broken body sent a shudder rippling over her skin.

“What happened in California that brought your sister to DC?”

His refusal to answer her question sent irritation flooding her system while his question pounded at her heart. She shook her head, then stopped as the motion set off another set of fireworks screaming through her brain. She waited a heartbeat for the pain to subside enough for her to talk. “After my parents’ death, she kind of went a little—”

She sought a polite, kind word. “Nuts. She had expected to take over my parents’ restaurant when they retired—”

Pain pierced Lana deep in her heart. She missed her parents so much. “But then the fire happened. An accidental grease fire, the arson investigator said. Our parents perished in the blaze and the restaurant was destroyed. My parents had let the restaurant’s insurance lapse—”

To pay her college tuition. Guilt twisted her insides into a pretzel. “After all the debts were paid from their life insurance there was nothing left. Not even our childhood home. I invited Rosa to come live with my husband and me. She came out to DC, but only stayed a few days. I don’t know where she went after that. We lost touch until she showed up on my doorstep three years ago.”

Right around the time Lana had filed for divorce and had moved out of the apartment she’d shared with Mark. Lana would never forget the chaos of those days. The pain and humiliation.

“She stayed with me for a couple weeks, then she found her own place. The day she moved out was the last time I spoke with her.” The hurtful things her sister had said cut so deep and were never far from Lana’s mind. “I didn’t know she was working for Congressman Jeffries until I heard it on the news.”

She hadn’t known about Juan, either. There was so much about her sister she hadn’t known.

“What caused the rift between you?”

She bristled as a tidal wave of guilt swamped her. “That has nothing to do with anything that’s happening now.”

“Let me be the judge of that. It seems a little too coincidental that your sister meets an untimely death and then a month later there’s a break-in at your place of employment where you’re attacked, struck over the head and left for dead.”

She shivered as his words sank in. “You believe my sister was murdered, don’t you?”

He didn’t need to say a word. She could read the confirmation in the way his jaw hardened and his eyebrows twitched.

Her hand pressed against her heart. “And now you think whoever killed my sister is after me?”

TWO

“You’re wrong,” Lana stated firmly. She struggled to sit up in the hospital bed.

Feeling the need to offer help, Adam adjusted the pillow behind her back. She flinched. A flash of fear lit her dark eyes. Startled by her skittishness, he drew back, his hands up, palms facing out. Ace, however, must have read his intentions of help as acceptance. The dog stretched until his nose could nudge her hand.

“Heel,” Adam commanded. Ace complied immediately.

Lana kept her gaze on the dog. “The break-in had nothing to do with me or my sister. The man wanted the arrow. I wasn’t even supposed to be working last night.”

Adam wasn’t convinced the two incidents weren’t related. There had to be a connection. One sister murdered and then a random attack on the other? Not likely. “Who did know you’d be at the museum after hours?”

She shrugged. “I suppose a few of the staff members. We’ve been so busy preparing the museum gala. I’d fallen behind on some of the details. I usually take my work home with me but with the rain and all, I decided to stay.”

“Then it’s feasible that someone took advantage of your decision to stay after hours and used the excuse of a theft to attack you.”

A visible tremor worked through her. “None of them would have any reason to hurt me.”

She may want him to believe her answer but the uncertainty wavering in her voice said otherwise. There had to be a connection they weren’t seeing. He made a mental note to check into the background of all the museum’s employees. “Even if that is true, someone knew you’d be there. One of the staff members could have inadvertently let it slip you were working late.”

She blew out a breath. “I suppose.”

“Did you know less than twenty-four hours after your sister’s death Congressman Jeffries’s son was murdered? And the congressman was shot, as well?” Adam watched the woman lying in the bed, searching her face for...he wasn’t sure what. Guilt?

Dark circles rimmed her worried eyes. Her long dark hair spilled over the white pillowcase, the stark contrast unsettling. The white bandage on her head was a reminder of the assault she’d suffered. The sudden urge to hurt whoever had injured her gripped him by the throat.

The strong reaction was so uncharacteristic of him that he took a step back as if somehow distancing himself from Lana would temper his response to her situation. Ace rose, sensing his tension.

She chewed on her bottom lip. “I’d heard that on the news, too. Did you find his killer?”

Interesting that she’d ask about Jeffries’s killer, but not her sister’s.

Did she know something? Had she been involved in her sister’s murder? She’d had an alibi for the time of death, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have arranged the whole thing.

However, he had looked into her finances at the time and there had been no large sums of money leaving her accounts or anything to suggest she’d paid out for a hit on her sister.

Yet, he couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion there was something going on with her, something she didn’t want him to know.

“Did you know Michael Jeffries?” Her sister had worked for the congressman’s family for nearly three years. Adam didn’t buy that Lana hadn’t known where her sister worked.

She moved her head to give a negative shake but then stopped, winced and said, “No.”

At least she was consistent. “You’ve never met Congressman Jeffries or his son?”

Anger flashed in her dark eyes. “Not Michael. I met the congressman when I came to the hospital to talk to Miss Danvers about Juan. Until then I’d never spoken to Congressman Jeffries before. I didn’t know Rosa worked for him until after her death. Why won’t you believe me?”

“I find it hard to imagine two sisters not talking to each for such a long period of time.”

He couldn’t go more than a day or two without talking to his older brother. Sure, there’d been years growing up where they’d fought like two caged animals.

But, family was family. Joe and his wife, Ruth, and their two girls lived on the other side of the Potomac. Close enough to visit often.

Adam enjoyed living near to them and would miss the Sunday night dinners and babysitting the girls so Joe and Ruth could have a date night if—when—his transfer to the Colorado Springs K-9 unit went through as Adam had requested. It would be hard leaving the elite K-9 team. They worked well together and he respected every member of the unit. And leaving Ace behind would tear his heart apart but his parents were getting on in years now and Adam felt the need to return home. To put down roots of his own.

“It’s not that strange. Families become estranged from one another all the time. Just because we shared the same blood didn’t make us friends.”

“True enough.” Though, personally, he wouldn’t let anything come between him and his brother. But it wasn’t his place to judge. “Do you know Erin Eagleton?”

“We’ve spoken on the phone regarding the Eagleton Foundation. They give generous donations to the museum. And we talked about the Golden Arrow. She was as excited by the artifact as I was, but I’ve never met her in person.” Her eyebrows dipped together. “Has she been found? I’d heard she was missing.”

He shook his head. Erin Eagleton was a senator’s daughter and the girlfriend of the victim. “She disappeared the night Michael was murdered.”

And a necklace with a starfish charm engraved on the back with the initials EE, along with a child’s blue mitten, had been found at the crime scene. They hadn’t released that tidbit of information yet. Did the presence of the necklace—determined to be Erin Eagleton’s—at Michael’s murder scene make Erin the murderer or another victim? At least they knew the child who’d dropped the mitten—even if they still didn’t know which child—was at a safe house with the rest of the foster kids from the All Our Kids home. None of the children would admit to having been near the congressman’s home—out of fear. But one of them likely had seen who had killed Michael Jeffries and shot his father, Congressman Harland Jeffries. Had Erin Eagleton been a witness? The perpetrator? A victim? Where was she?

Those questions plagued the Capitol K-9 Unit as they searched for Erin, grasping at any and all clues that might lead them to her and to Michael Jeffries’s murderer.

“When was the last time you spoke with Erin?” he asked, hoping this woman would have some useable clue to Erin’s whereabouts.

Lana frowned and appeared to be searching her memory. “Over a month ago.”

“What did you talk to Erin about?”

“Art. She and her family are patrons of the arts.” Lana’s voice took on an impatient edge. “The Eagletons have donated large sums of money to the museum. Erin Eagleton was the contact person for the Eagleton Foundation.”

“Do you always talk to donors?”

Her chin lifted. “Personal contact is important.”

“Were you aware that Erin Eagleton was Michael Jeffries’s girlfriend?”

“I’d heard that.” Puzzlement clouded her eyes. “What does any of this have to do with me? Or the attack at the museum?”

“Do you know where Erin is now?”

Lana let out an exasperated sigh. “We weren’t friends, Officer Donovan.” Her hand went to her throat. “You don’t think I had anything to do with her disappearance, do you?”

Adam didn’t like all the unknown variables. First Rosa Gomez’s suspicious death, then Congressman Jeffries’s son murdered by an unknown assassin and the congressman shot and left for dead. Michael’s girlfriend, Erin Eagleton, now missing. Lana and Rosa were sisters. Lana and Erin knew each other.

Now Lana had been attacked?

Another piece in the ever-expanding puzzle? Or coincidence?

Adam didn’t believe in coincidence. Yes, there were times life seemed random and out of control, but his faith in God gave him perspective. God was in control, but He allowed humans the free will to make choices.

Choices that affected others, like murder and theft.

Though Adam couldn’t see the big picture, God could and would reveal what needed to be known when the time was right. Until then Adam would work with the bits and pieces he had that collectively didn’t make sense. Yet.

Reserving judgment on Lana’s role in this mystery, he said, “You might know something that could help us find her.”

“I wish I did.” Concern shone in her eyes. Genuine? Or fake? “Erin seems like a nice person, but we only talked art. She’s very knowledgeable.”

Whether Erin was nice or not remained to be seen. If she had murdered her boyfriend and shot his father, then no, Adam wouldn’t categorize Erin as nice. But if she witnessed the murder and had been kidnapped by the unidentified assassin, then Erin could be in grave danger.

If not dead already.

He shifted his focus back to Lana. “Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt you?”

Her lips pursed. “Other than my ex-husband? No.”

The file Adam had on her said there had been domestic violence issues. He couldn’t abide men who abused women.

“Could the attacker have been your ex-husband?”

Her gaze jerked back to him. Her nose wrinkled up as she contemplated his question. “I don’t think so. This man was bulky, like a bodybuilder. Mark isn’t a bodybuilder. He prefers alcohol over exercise.”

Adam made a mental note to check on Mark’s whereabouts at the time of the break-in.

The door to the hospital room swung open and the doctor walked in. There was no mistaking the disapproval in the older man’s eyes behind his black-framed glasses. No doubt the good doctor still had his feathers ruffled from earlier when Adam had wanted to question Lana the moment she’d first awakened in the wee hours of the morning.

The doc had put the kibosh on Adam talking to her, telling Adam in no uncertain terms that his questions would have to wait until they knew Miss Gomez’s head injury hadn’t caused any permanent damage.

The doctor turned his attention to his patient. “How are you this morning?”

“I’m feeling better. Not even much of a headache,” Lana replied.

The smile she gave the doctor was warm, lighting up her whole face, and it belied the wincing Adam had witnessed a moment ago. His gaze narrowed. She apparently was accomplished at putting on a good front.

“Can I be discharged now?” Lana asked, in a hopeful voice.

The doctor moved so that he blocked Adam’s view of Lana. “Let me do my examination and then we can decide.” Throwing a glance over his shoulder, the doctor sent Adam a pointed look. “Do you mind?”

“I’ll be right outside,” Adam said for both the doctor and Lana’s sake. If what Adam suspected was true—that whoever killed Rosa Gomez was now targeting Lana—then he needed to know why. Lana may have useful information, even if she didn’t realize she did.

* * *

Lana breathed a sigh of relief when Adam disappeared out the door. There was something about the man that scraped at her nerves and set her senses on alert.

As the doctor did his exam, asking her all sorts of questions and taking her vitals, her mind grappled to come to grips with the officer’s suspicion that whoever killed her sister could now want her dead, as well.

It didn’t make sense. She and her sister had nothing in common. They barely knew each other. Rosa had cut Lana out of her life three years ago.

No. Adam was wrong. Whatever the intruder had been after last night had nothing to do with her or her sister. She still couldn’t believe the arrow hadn’t been stolen. Why go to the trouble of sneaking into the museum, breaking the glass display case, taking the arrow from its bed only to leave it behind?

She was glad he had left the artifact whatever his reason and the relief was so overwhelming she almost wept. She prayed the damage done wasn’t too extensive.

“Okay, young lady, I think you’re safe to go home, but I want you to take it easy. Lots of rest and plenty of water. You came in here with not only a nasty bonk on the head but you were dehydrated, as well.”

She grimaced. Now that she thought about it, she remembered she hadn’t eaten or drunk anything yesterday, except a cup of coffee. She tended to skip meals when she was working. “Yeah, I’ll try to do better.”

“No try. Do.”

She laughed, the motion sending a ball of pain ricocheting through her skull but she held her smile in place. “Okay, Doctor.”

He smiled. “I’ll have Cindy retrieve your clothes and initiate the discharge papers. Do you have someone to drive you home?”

Considering she didn’t own a car, she would have to call a friend to pick her up and take her to the home. Or she could take public transit, her normal mode of transportation. “I’ll figure it out. Thank you, Doctor Evans.”

With a nod, he left the room. Almost immediately Adam and his partner were striding back through the door. Dog and man moved as one unit with synchronized lethal grace. A daunting pair.

Her smile faded. “You have more questions?”

“I’m sure I will.”

She blew out a breath of frustration as Adam halted at the foot of her bed. Ace, however, came to her bedside and laid his nose next to her so she could pet him. She found the rhythmic motion soothing. Was that why the dog had come to her? To soothe her?

Adam frowned at the dog but didn’t reprimand him. “The doctor says you’ll be discharged within the hour. Ace and I will take you home.”

Hearing his name, Ace sat at attention, looking at his master.

“Ace,” she murmured. “That’s a fitting name.”

Something she couldn’t identify flickered in Adam’s eyes. “I thought so, too.”

Holding his gaze, she said, “I have a friend I can call to take me home.”

“Actually, if you’re up to it, I’d like to take you to the museum, then home,” he said. “I’d like you to verify there is nothing missing.”

Her heart gave a nervous thump. “Gladly.”

Despite her relief that nothing had been stolen, she couldn’t stop the shiver of anxiety from slithering down her spine. Because if the intruder’s intent had been to kill her...then he might come back to finish the job.

* * *

Adam drove through the midmorning DC traffic with Lana secured in the passenger seat. They were on their way to the museum. She hadn’t said much other than a polite thank-you when he opened the passenger door for her.

He slid a glance her way, liking her profile. She’d tied her long dark hair back in a low ponytail, which gave him a clear view of her straight nose, high cheekbones and the proud jut of her chin.

From this vantage, he couldn’t see the bandage but the bloodstains on the collar of her white blouse reminded him of the trauma she’d suffered.

He parked at an angle next to a patrol cruiser outside the entrance to the museum. After releasing Ace from the back, he escorted Lana inside. Ace walked between them.

A dozen or so uniformed patrol officers nodded in acknowledgement of a fellow law enforcement officer and gave Lana curious stares as she, Adam and Ace walked into the main lobby.

Adam had never visited this particular museum. He was immediately struck with the interesting way the wall art and the display cases were arranged, allowing a flowing progression through history. Solid white marble walls and matching floor provided a nondescript backdrop, which emphasized the colors of the artwork.

“Nice,” he said.

Lana caught his gaze. The beaming smile on her face full of pride made his heart jerk like the muscle had taken a direct hit from the business end of a Taser.

“We’ve worked really hard to make this a premier museum to rival the others in the city.” She touched his arm, the contact setting off a firestorm shooting up his arm beneath the thick cotton material of his uniform. She jerked her hand away as if she, too, had felt the current of electricity. Must be the static in the air from the spring storm.

She laced her fingers together in front of her. “If it were not for the Carroll family, this museum wouldn’t be here.”

“Carroll family?” he murmured more to keep her talking than from real interest. In his experience when people got on a verbal roll they tended to divulge aspects of themselves they wouldn’t normally share.

“Really?” Her eyes lit up. “Daniel Carroll was one of three commissioners appointed by General George Washington to survey and define the District of Columbia. The Carrolls owned land in Maryland, and Daniel strongly advocated locating the nation’s capital on the banks of the Potomac.”

Her face glowed with animation as she went on to tell him about the Carrolls’ descendants buying the building and forming a nonprofit foundation to start the museum. The joy in her voice squeezed Adam’s lungs, wringing out all the air as though he’d run a twenty-block foot chase.

Maybe getting her to open up on a subject she was so passionate about wasn’t the best idea since he got too easily wrapped up in her voice and could forget his purpose.

Out of the corner of his eye Adam spotted Detective David Delvecchio of the DC Police Department coming toward them.

Lana’s monologue tapered off for a moment before she breathed out, “It’s gone.”

Adam followed her gaze to an empty display case where a bed of red velvet sparkled with splinters of glass. Little plastic yellow markers were set in a circle around the case. As he led Lana closer, Adam noted bright red blood sprinkled on the floor amongst shards of glass. Lana’s blood.

“What do you have?” Adam asked as the detective halted in front of them.

David’s mouth lifted at one corner. “Former Special Agent Adam Donovan. Didn’t realize we’d invited the K-9 unit to the party.”

Adam flinched at the reminder of his past. He could feel Lana’s curious gaze on his face like an itch, but he refused to scratch. “This break-in may be related to an active investigation of ours.”

After giving Lana an interested once-over, David bounced his gaze back to Adam, a question in his eyes.

“Where’s the arrow?” Lana asked, drawing David’s attention back to her.

Knowing he had to tread lightly to ensure cooperation, Adam said, “This is Lana Gomez.”

David’s eyes widened then narrowed. “I see. The artifact is with the crime scene technicians.” He turned his sharp-eyed gaze on Adam. “You poaching the case, Donovan?”

“More like hoping we can work together.” Adam kept his voice neutral. “As I said, part of an open investigation.”

If push came to shove, Adam knew Captain McCord would involve the woman who’d formed the K-9 unit, the president’s special in-house security chief, General Margaret Meyer. The former four-star general would have no problem taking the case away from the local PD if necessary. Adam, however, preferred to keep interagency relations on good terms.

David cocked an eyebrow. “Ah, you show me yours, I’ll show you mine?”

Adam’s lips twitched. “Something like that.”

David’s attention transferred back to Lana. “I’m sure you’ve already filled my friend, here, in, but we like to conduct our own interviews. Are you up to giving your statement to an officer?”

Lana nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Garrison,” David called to a young uniformed officer. “Take Miss Gomez’s statement.”

Once Lana was out of earshot, David said, “Spill.”

“There’s a connection between Miss Gomez and the Jeffries case,” Adam went on to explain.

David grimaced. “Nasty business.”

Motioning for Adam and Ace to follow him to the back of the museum, the detective pointed to a spot on the gleaming white marble floor beneath an oil painting of the Capitol building. Black scuff marks showed in stark contrast, clearly indicating a struggle.

“The intruder came up behind the security guard and placed him in a choke hold,” David continued. “Guard passed out and dropped like a bag of stones in the Potomac.”

Adam frowned as he surveyed the area. The guard would have seen the intruder coming. Did that mean he knew his attacker? But for a choke hold to work, the guard would have had his back turned on the intruder. More pieces of the puzzle that weren’t fitting together. “Has the guard been released from the hospital?”

“Yes, he was released last night. He suffered no ill effects from the attack. Right now he’s in the security office with my officers.”

“I’d like a moment with him. How did the intruder enter?”

“The perp bypassed the security system by jerry-rigging a bladeRF radio device to the system’s keypad and jamming the signal while providing a phony rogue cell network for the keypad to latch on to. So when the intruder entered and the alarm sent a signal, it didn’t really go anywhere, which allowed the intruder to enter undetected.”

Keeping Ace at his heels, Adam headed for the smashed display case where a short man wearing the blue coveralls of the crime scene unit was placing the artifact back on its velvet bed. “This is where the intruder attacked Miss Gomez.”

“Our best guess is she interrupted the unidentified suspect before he could take the arrow.” David pointed to the red spots on the floor. “He hit her over the head and knocked her out. The intruder didn’t get what he was after because the security guard came to and managed to pull the fire alarm.”

Adam studied the long gold arrow; it certainly didn’t look like any archery arrow he’d ever used. The pointed pile had a wide base that narrowed to a tip, much like a Native American arrowhead that appeared sharp enough to pierce skin. The gold-plated shaft measured roughly an inch in diameter and the fletching, normally consisting of feathers to give the arrow wings, was made from delicately pounded gold filigree. “I don’t see any blood on it.”

“Should there be?”

“Miss Gomez claims he hit her with the arrow.” Adam’s gaze went to where she stood in her serviceable navy pumps. Though the heels were low and her navy blue skirt dropped to just above her knees, he found his gaze drawn to her shapely calves. Did she cycle? Or run? Or was she naturally toned? He gave a quick shake of his head to clear his thoughts. Her exercise regimen wasn’t any of his business.

David’s eyebrows hitched upward. In response to Adam’s statement or to the fact Adam had been staring at Lana? He tugged at the collar of his uniform shirt.

With a slight curl of his lip, David waved over a crime scene technician. “Did you find blood on the arrow?”

The tech shook his head. “No. No blood.”

Adam’s gaze slid back to Lana. Suspicion snarled inside his chest. Had she lied to him? Or had the intruder cleaned up after himself? He rubbed his chin. The perpetrator of the break-in had the technical know-how to bypass a state-of-the-art security system and was physically capable of taking out an armed guard. Both suggested the intruder had training that went beyond the norm. It was plausible the trespasser would have the smarts to wipe away trace evidence.

“I found a latent print, though. I used an alternate light source to find it and then ran a photograph of the print through the FBI’s and the DC fingerprint databases and got a hit.”

The tech’s words jolted through Adam. Blood rushed to his head, making his temples pound. This was good news.

“Do you have an ID?” David asked.

“Yes, sir.” The tech held out a printed sheet of paper. David took the paper and studied it for a long tense moment. His jaw firmed. The hard glint in his eyes as he lifted his gaze and handed Adam the sheet sent apprehension sliding through him.

Adam stared at the photo identification of the person who had last touched the Golden Arrow. His stomach sank to his toes.

Lana Gomez.

THREE

The muscles in Adam’s hand convulsed, crumpling the paper with Lana’s photo. A cold draft of air swirled through the museum, settling around him like a dark cloak. Outside, rain pinged irritating little drops of water against the overhead skylight. Lana’s soft voice echoed off the marble walls. He wasn’t sure what to think about this new development.

Someone had broken into the museum, hit Lana on the head and knocked her unconscious. Her wound was not self-inflicted. She claimed the attacker used the arrow. But the CSU tech found no blood on the artifact. Only Lana’s fingerprint.

“Recheck the thing for blood,” David directed the tech.

“Okay, but I’m telling you, there isn’t any.” Reclaiming the arrow, the tech walked away to reexamine the piece.

Adam’s gaze zeroed in on Lana. Even across the room, her fatigue was evident in the way she rubbed at her neck as if to massage away a knot. She finished giving her statement to the officer and slowly made her way to Adam’s side. She stared at the broken glass littering the floor, her arms wrapped around her middle.

She lifted her eyes and met his gaze. The bruising beneath the edges of the bandage covering her lovely face clutched at him and he fought to keep from running his hands over her arms to soothe away her upset.

Ace moved to her side and leaned into her so that Lana’s long, tapered fingers could rub the sweet spot behind his ears.

Normally his partner was reticent to let others touch him. By nature Dobermans were energetic and could be friendly when they were comfortable. But Ace was also fierce and loyal and intimidating, especially when working.

Most of the time, people were too nervous to broach petting the dog, let alone the dog allowing attention from strangers. Adam wasn’t even sure Lana realized what she was doing or how unique it was for Ace to seek out her touch. By the way Ace’s eyes rolled in his head the dog obviously enjoyed the contact.

“Ace, heel.”

The dog jumped to attention, sitting at Adam’s side, his ears perked up and his eyes on his master. That was more like it.

“Don’t be angry with him.” Lana’s softly spoken words hit Adam square in the chest. “He’s a good dog.”

“Yes, he is, but we’re working now.”

David cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “Miss Gomez, can you walk us through what happened last night?”

“I just told everything to your officer.”

When David didn’t respond, she glanced at Adam as if looking for support.

He nodded, encouraging her to retell her story. He wanted to hear her version again. Would she stick to her claim the suspect had hit her with the arrow?

She let out a soft, delicate sigh full of resignation. “I was in my office working.” She pointed to the hallway behind them. “I heard a thud then glass breaking. I thought maybe Brad had slipped and fallen. I came out and saw the man dressed in white reaching for the arrow.”

Adam visualized the event unfolding. Most people would have fled in search of a phone to call for help. “How did you try to stop him?”

She licked her lips. He tracked the movement as awareness zipped through him, setting his senses on fire. Not good. Not good at all. He had a cardinal rule to never become emotionally involved in a case; doing so impaired one’s judgment.

He jerked his gaze back to Lana’s eyes in time to see a flare of interest in the dark depths, but then the flame was gone so fast he wouldn’t have been able to stand in court and swear he’d seen the look. Must have been a trick of the lighting inside the museum. Or maybe a stray sunbeam from the overhead skylight. But that couldn’t be since it was raining. He gave himself a mental shake to clear his thoughts and refocused on her words.

“I attacked him. I’ve been taking mixed martial arts classes.”

He dropped his chin and stared at her. He wasn’t sure if she was crazy or brave. Or both. That was the problem with self-defense classes in a gym. People tended to think when the time came they’d be prepared to act, but reality never followed the patterns learned in a studio class. Especially when it came to offensive moves. “You could have been killed.”

She made a face. “I reacted before I really considered what I was doing.”

He hadn’t pegged her as impulsive.

“Were you the last one to handle the arrow before the break-in?” David asked.

“Handle?” She canted her head. “Yes, I suppose. I’m the one who placed the artifact in the display case earlier this week before the glass barrier was sealed, if that’s what you mean.”

“You told me the intruder hit you with the arrow, isn’t that correct?” Adam watched her closely.

“Yes, that’s right.”

Sharing a dubious glance with David, Adam stated, “There was no blood found on the arrow. Only your prints.”

“What?” Her stunned gaze bounced between him and David. She took a step back. Ace rose to all fours, alert to her obvious tension. Adam gave him a hand signal to sit. Slowly, Ace sat but his gaze stayed intently focused on Lana.

“That doesn’t make sense.” Her voice held a quiver of uncertainty. “He had the arrow in his hand. He used it to hit me and knocked me unconscious.”

“Did the man have gloves on?” David asked.

She blinked. “Yes, he did. White gloves that matched his clothes.”

Her version of the event wasn’t lining up with the facts. Hopefully, the security guard would shed some light on the murky situation.

“Can I speak with Brad?” she asked.

David gave a sharp nod. “This way.”

Adam tugged on Ace’s lead when the dog wouldn’t leave Lana’s side.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” she asked before he had taken two steps.

“I’m reserving judgment,” he offered. It would be bad police work to let her in on what he was thinking.

There was no mistaking the hurt in her expression as she walked past him down the same hall in which David had disappeared. She was much easier to read today than the first time they’d met, but even so, Adam wasn’t sure what to make of her story. The woman was an enigma. Calm and collected to the point of unemotional one minute, then impulsive and expressive the next.

At the end of the hall, Lana headed through an open door. “Brad, I was so worried about you!”

Adam stepped inside, stopping next to David to watch Lana hug a white-haired man of at least seventy and wearing a red uniform with the museum emblem on the breast pocket.

The man patted her back awkwardly. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”

“I am.” She pulled back.

Brad grimaced. “Your poor head.”

David stepped forward and made the introductions. “Brad Givens, this is Officer Donovan, with the Capitol K-9 Unit. He’ll be working with the DC police on the investigation.”

Lana slipped out of the way. The guard nodded and extended his hand.

After shaking Brad’s hand, Adam asked, “Did you get a look at the guy, hear anything that might give a clue what he was after?”

“Show Officer Donovan the security video,” David instructed.

Adam arched an eyebrow at David. Apparently the answer to Adam’s question would appear on the video feed.

Brad sat in front of a blank monitor on the table, pressed a few keys and the screen sprang to life.

The images on the display showed Brad stroll into view, apparently doing his rounds. A moment later a figure, dressed all in white and wearing aviator-style sunglasses, just as Lana had described, stepped out of the wall behind Brad. A convincing optical illusion.

The choke hold he used on the unsuspecting guard had been efficient, practiced, lending support to Adam’s earlier thought that the intruder had been trained. Military? Law enforcement? Or a garden-variety thug with skills?

Once the guard was down, the intruder ripped the cord on the security camera and the screen went black.

Brad swiveled in his chair to face Adam. “As you saw in humiliating Technicolor, the guy took me down, quick and easy.” Bitter anger reverberated in Brad’s voice. “He was strong and big and knew what he was doing. He disabled all the cameras. When I came to, my first thought was for Miss Gomez. She’s the sweetest lady.”

Brad’s jaw tightened as he continued. “When I saw her laying on the ground all bloodied I...” His voice cracked with emotion. “I thought she was dead.” He visibly collected himself and glanced toward the door with a smile. “Thankfully I was wrong.”

Lana had been hit and knocked out. But what happened in those moments while they were both unconscious? What had the intruder been after?

Lana shimmied past Adam to take Brad’s hand.

“Did you see the intruder after you awoke?” Adam couldn’t picture how the perp got away without being seen if the guard had come from the direction of the museum entrance where he’d pulled the alarm.

Brad gave a negative shake of his head. “No. I saw Miss Gomez and I ran for the alarm.”

Had the guard spooked the perp, forcing him to blend back into the walls to wait until the coast was clear and he could take the arrow? Adam turned to David. “Have you searched the whole premises?”

David gave him a keen look. “I had that same thought. We searched and found an open window in the employee break room and the main storage room’s back door was unlocked. The intruder is gone. No way to tell which was the point of entrance or exit.”

What had caused the assailant to leave the arrow behind?

A commotion in the outer body of the museum drew Ace’s attention. The dog barked to alert Adam. “I hear it, boy. Let’s go see what all the racket is about.”

They all filed out of the security office and hurried to the main hall. A rotund middle-aged man wearing a suit that appeared haphazardly donned stood mopping his brow with a white handkerchief. His wet shoes tracked dirt across the gleaming floor to where an officer had the man corralled a few paces away from the empty display.

“Sir, you have to stay back,” the officer said.

“Who would do this?” the man demanded.

David gave the officer a nod, allowing the younger officer to step away. “Sir, I’m Detective Delvecchio. This is Officer Donovan. You are?”

Curious, Adam stepped forward. Ace sniffed the man, then lost interest and sat.

“My name is Fred Floyd, I’m the head curator of the museum.” He shifted his feet, his agitation clear in the hike of his shoulders and the red flush to his round face. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Lana rushed forward. “Mr. Floyd, I’m so sorry you had to come home from your vacation.”

The man blinked at her. “You’re hurt.”

She waved away his concern. “It’s nothing. The thief got away, but didn’t take anything.”

Relief seemed to deflate 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 her enter.” He closed the bag and handed it off to an officer. “Have that dusted for prints.”

The officer nodded and exited past Lana.

She stood to the side of the door watching him with wary eyes. “What was that?”

“You tell me.”

Her brows pinched together. “I’ve never seen that bag before.”

He pushed the chair back in. “I found the duffel hidden beneath your desk.”

She blinked rapidly. “I didn’t put it there.”

“Aren’t you curious what’s inside?” Or did she already know?

She blew out a breath full of derision. “I’m sure you’re dying to tell me.”

He arched an eyebrow. Add spunky to the list of attributes he was accumulating and attaching to her. “Money. By the looks of it thousands of dollars.”

Her mouth dropped open then closed. She licked her lips. This time he refused to be distracted.

“It’s not mine!” she finally managed to say in a voice full of fire that belied the coldness settling in her eyes, making them turn from dark brown to obsidian.

“You’ve petitioned the court for custody of your nephew.”

“Yes. Though now...” Anguish danced across her face before quickly disappearing as her expression froze into bland neutrality.

He recognized the look. The same one she’d had when she’d heard of her sister’s death. Interesting. “It must have been expensive to hire a lawyer.”

For a brief moment, dark eyes flashed with challenge before turning to stone. “I used my savings.”

“You live in a nice apartment building in Georgetown. That must cost you a pretty penny.”

“Not really. I went to school with the daughter of the family that owns the building. My rent is reasonable considering what they could charge for it. Why are you asking me this? Shouldn’t you be out looking for the man who stole the Golden Arrow?”

“You’re having money issues. A good motive for theft.”

Her hands fisted at her sides. “Things are tight, but that doesn’t make me a thief.”

He came to stand in front of her, invading her space, crowding her back until she bumped against the wall. Her eyes widened. The fear flashing in her gaze grabbed him by the heart and squeezed. He hated scaring her, but intimidation was a useful part of the job. A part he’d never had trouble with before now.

He planted a hand on the wall next to her head to keep from tucking a stray strand of silky hair behind her ear. “So here’s what I think happened.” His voice dipped, coming out huskier than he’d intended. But then again, his heart was beating fast and his blood thrumming. Her perfume filled his head, soft and alluring. He struggled to maintain detachment.

“You’re trying to adopt your nephew, but the court costs and the lawyer have tapped out your savings. You have this item worth big bucks and you’re approached with a deal. Switch out the real arrow for the fake and receive a large lump of cash in exchange. Only at the last second your partner double-crosses you.” The words stuck in his throat. “He knocks you over the head, takes the arrow and leaves you to take the rap.”

The color drained from her face, making her olive skin appear pasty. “No. No. That didn’t happen. I didn’t have anything to do with the theft. Why would I jeopardize my career, my chances of gaining custody of Juan? I wouldn’t do that.”

Ace nudged Adam in the thigh. He straightened and stepped back, needing the space. Needing to grab hold of his judgment, his senses and bring them back under control. “The bag of money and your fingerprints on the fake arrow are pretty compelling.”

“I thought a person was innocent until proven guilty.” She took a shuddering breath and pushed away from the wall. The ice in her expression could have frozen the Potomac. “I’m being set up.”

The circumstantial evidence pointed at Lana as a coconspirator. Yet, she made a good argument. Yes, she could use extra cash, who couldn’t, but she had a good career and was going through the process to gain custody of her nephew. If she were going to steal from her employer, why wouldn’t she wait until she had custody of the boy? Maybe she planned to kidnap Juan and flee with the cash from the museum heist?

But that thought didn’t ring true. If she and an accomplice were going to go to the trouble of pulling off a robbery at the museum, why only take one thing?

According to the time stamp of the video of when the guard was rendered unconscious and the moment the thief opened the break-room window, he’d have had time to steal several other easily transportable artifacts. What had he been doing during those few minutes?

Placing Lana’s fingerprints on the fake arrow. Planting a bag of cash in her office.

Okay, that was a plausible scenario, creating enough doubt for him to wonder if her presence in the museum had truly been unexpected. Had framing her been a spur-of-the-moment decision? Was the theft random and had nothing to do with their open cases?

So many questions with no ready answers. Too many variables to make a coherent theory.

It all came down to this woman who appeared genuinely upset by the theft. Or was she a good actress?

“Is silence a tactic you use to break your suspects?” she asked, her gaze meeting his.

“Who would want to steal the Golden Arrow?”

She blinked. “Plenty of people. The artifact is not only valuable, but a piece of history.”

As if that would be enough reason for the theft. Her passion for her career was evident. And in different circumstances admirable.

His phone trilled from his breast pocket. Captain McCord calling. “Ace, watch her.”

Adam stepped into the hall. He quickly filled his captain in. “She claims she’s innocent of theft and doesn’t know anything about the money. She thinks she’s being set up.”

“Hmm. What does your gut tell you?”

Adam stared at the wall, turning the question over in his head. He was loath to conjecture. He preferred to have all the answers laid out in a tidy row. Most of the time the cases he worked were resolved with Ace at the forefront.

Tracking a suspect down, like in the drug case they’d just closed. That had been all Ace. Adam had just been along for the backup. Adam relied on Ace’s gut more than his own these days. McCord knew that. McCord knew what haunted Adam and looked for opportunities to force him to rely on his own judgment.

Was that why his captain had sent him to the museum rather than one of the other team members? To force Adam into a situation where he would have to call on his FBI investigative training?

Adam sent up a silent plea for clarity. He searched his heart and found only peace.

“I don’t think she had anything to do with the theft,” Adam finally admitted. “But something is definitely up with her. She’s cagey about her sister. That puts up a red flag for me, but she appears sincerely upset about the missing arrow.”

“Do you think she could still be in danger?”

“Hard to say, sir. This situation is strange, to say the least.”

“I want you to stick close to her.”

The air left his lungs in a swoosh. “Sir?”

“She’s a tenuous link between her sister’s death and the Jeffries murder. The attack on Miss Gomez seems too calculated to be coincidence. If the two fatalities aren’t related to the attack on Miss Gomez, then no harm done. But if she’s the key to solving the mystery surrounding her sister’s fall, Michael’s murder and finding Erin Eagleton then we’d be remiss in not keeping Miss Gomez under close watch. I’ve got Senator Eagleton breathing down my neck to find his daughter.”

Adam’s pulse tripped over itself. “I understand, sir. Are we talking 24/7?”

“Yes. You can enlist the DC police for help as needed. Keep me updated.”

“You can count on me, sir.” He would be dogging Lana’s every step for the foreseeable future. Spending time with her. Observing each and every move. 24/7.

He recalled the way he’d reacted to her licking her lips, and a flare of heat flushed through him, followed quickly by sharp-edged concern.

No question. Watching the lovely Miss Gomez while keeping his interest at bay would be a lot harder than it sounded.

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