Heart Wounds (A Miranda and Parker Mystery) (15 page)

She blew out a breath.
“What are you saying, Yeats?”

He waved a hand at the doors with exasperation.
“That if someone with the codes to the storeroom wanted to, he or she could have let the thief in right here.”

Miranda shifted her weight.
He could be on to something. “And that’s your theory?”

Yeats closed his eyes and nodded as if he were grateful he’d finally gotten through to these dense detectives.
“Yes. It’s an alternate explanation to Mr. Eames.”

“Unless he was the one who let them in,” Parker pointed out.

The crest-fallen Yeats escorted them back upstairs and left them in the Great Hall where the marble staircase was.

Frustrated, Miranda scratched at her hair
and watched a group of schoolboys in uniforms pointing at one of the half-naked statues, their giggles echoing to the high ceiling. “We’re coming up with zip, Parker.”

Parker’s face was hard with concentration. He wasn’t paying attention to the kids or any of the other visitors roaming around.

Suddenly he turned and headed for the corner with a fast clip.

“Where are we going?”

“We need to find Sir Neville. There’s one more person we need to question.”

Who?
she wondered as she trotted after him. They’d finished the list. But she thought she had an idea.

They found Sir Neville reading a book at the end of a long table in a cafeteria-like café on the far side of the Great Hall.
It was a wide-open space dotted with planters, odd shaped lamps and clean shiny surfaces, embellished with bronze. There were only a few other patrons at distant tables, all engrossed in muted conversations.

The smell of meats and cheeses and strange tangy sauces filled the air
, and Miranda’s mouth began to water. But she ignored it.

Sir Neville
looked up guardedly as they approached, reached for a decorative coffee cup in a saucer before him. “Have you made any arrests?”

Parker grimaced, then held out a seat across from the gentleman for Miranda. “No, you’ll be happy to know we’ve found nothing incriminating.”

Sir Neville put down his cup without taking a sip and shook his head as if chiding himself. “I don’t mean to be rude, Russell. It’s just that this ordeal has been so trying.”

Parker took a seat beside Miranda. “I know.”

“I’ve just had a call from a representative of Buckingham Palace. We’re partially state-funded so they’re concerned, of course. The crown hopes this is all settled and the dagger is found very soon. I didn’t know what to say.”

Miranda felt her throat clench. Now the Queen of England was involved in this case?
“We’re doing our best to wrap things up as quickly as possible, Sir Neville,” she told him.

Though they weren’t even at the making progress stage, let alone the wrapping things up stage.
If they didn’t find the thief soon, maybe the Queen would chop off their heads.

Parker gave his friend
a steady look. “There’s one more person on your staff we need to speak to.”

“Someone else?”

“Ms. Chopra mentioned there was another person in the storeroom with you the morning the dagger was discovered missing.”

Sir Neville frowned. He searched first Miranda’s face then Parker’s. “Do you mean Toby Waverly?”

Parker nodded. “Yes.”

Miranda knew that was
who Parker had meant.

Sir Neville’s mouth opened in horror. “
Toby? He’s just a boy. An intern from King’s College. They’re one of the oldest universities in England. Extremely selective. They wouldn’t send us a…a relic thief.”

They had to keep the man calm.
“We’re not saying he’s a thief, Sir Neville,” she told him. “We just want to find out if he knows anything.”

Parker patted the sleeve of the man’s suit coat. “We’ll probably find nothing.”

Sir Neville sat back, his shoulders sagging. “Very well. I’ll contact my assistant and have him paged. Would you like to see him here?”

Parker shook his head. “Have her send him to your office.”

Sir Neville took out his cell phone. “In the meantime, why don’t you have something to eat as guests of the museum?”

Parker turned to her. “What would you like?”

“Let’s look at what they have.” She got up and went to a counter filled with sandwiches and baked goods. She hesitated. It looked good from a distance, but who knew what was in those things.

Parker pointed to the menu board overhead. “They have a bok choi and shitake salad with free range chicken. Or a guinea hen sandwich.”

“Hmm.” Before she could decide, her cell buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket and eyed the display. It was Lady Gabrielle.

After considering letting it go to voice mail, she whispered to
Parker. “I think I need to take this.” Ignoring his scowl, she turned and took a few steps before answering. “Hello?”

F
amiliar girlish laughter greeted her ear. “Ms. Steele? Where on earth are you?”

Since the woman was
n’t here to see it, Miranda indulged in a grimace. “Still on that errand I said I had.”

“
Well, I wanted to tell you we left Chelsea. Now were at Selfridges. It’s on Oxford Street. You must join us. You simply must.”

Must, huh?
No, I mustn’t
, she wanted to reply. She really wanted to help question Toby Waverly. They could be close to getting a break. On the other hand, he might turn out to know as little about the night of the theft as everyone else around here.

As she roll
ed Gabrielle’s demand around in her mind, Miranda felt a familiar sensation. Not anything big. Just a tiny tingle at the base of her neck. A feeling she’d had before.

T
he image of Lady Davinia strolling the polo grounds with that Sebastian dude came to her. She thought of Gabrielle’s innocent face on the sidelines after the horse attacked, an expression Miranda was sure had been fake. She thought of the hooves of that polo pony pawing the air right over her head.

There was something up with
these aristocrats. And if it had anything to do with the Marc Antony dagger, it was worth following up.

She took a breath and grinned into the phone.
“I’ll be there in a little while, Lady Gabrielle. Can you give me directions?”

Gabrielle explained how to get
to the place and clicked off, and Miranda returned to Parker. He was at the cash register with a tray holding two artfully arranged dishes. He’d already ordered for her.

She eyed
one of the plates. Some sort of melted cheese and meat on sourdough bread with an arugula garnish and chili peppers on the side. It looked delicious.

“Uh…”
She pulled her fingers through her hair, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m not going to be able to eat that.”

Parker’s expression went dark. Big surprise. “What do you mean?”

She made a careless gesture with her hand. “Lady Gabrielle wants me to meet her and Lady Davinia at someplace called Selfridges.”

His scowl grew darker. “That’s
a department store. A high end one. Are you having a sudden urge to go shopping?”

He knew she despised shopping and everything that went with it. “
Gabrielle is. And she says I ‘must’ join her.”

She
gave a laugh and watched Parker’s lip twitch. Every muscle in his beautiful body tensed beneath his tailored suit as his temper boiled over in that Mount Vesuvius way of his.

But he managed to control
himself as he leaned near her ear. “Miranda, do you really think that’s wise?” His voice was low and ominous.

He was
still worried about her after the polo pony incident. Annoyance rising inside her, she shrugged. “Like you said. It’s shopping. In a department store. What could happen?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Any number of things. You could
go out on the street and get pushed into oncoming traffic, for instance.”

He had a point. If Lady Gabrielle was out to hurt her to stop this investigation, she could be planning something like that. But this time, Miranda would be on her guard. “I’ll be careful.”

“Careful enough?”

That was a low blow.
“Do I have to remind you I can take care of myself?”

He eyed her up and down as if sizing her up for the first time.
“Not in the slightest.” He reached for her hand. “Do I have to say I don’t want you to go?”

Now he was playing the tender card. She pulled out of his grasp.
“I think I might learn something.”

He didn’t reply.

She poked him in the chest with her forefinger. “Tell you what. If something happens, I’ll say you were right and I should have listened to you.”

He gave her a wry smile
, tinged with fury. “That might be too late.”

Her temper crackled inside her.
She didn’t want to make him mad. But they were supposed to be partners. Why couldn’t he trust her?

She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Look. We both think there’s something funny going on with the family. Why not take this opportunity to dig under their facades?”

He didn’t answer. He knew it was a good opportunity but he didn’t want to admit it.

She stepped close to him.
“Well, you go follow up on your hunch about the intern and I’ll follow up on mine.” Despite her irritation, she rose on tiptoe to peck him on the cheek. “I’ll meet you back here when I finish and we’ll compare notes.”

His tone turned demanding.
“Miranda.”

She
wiggled her fingers at him. “Bye.”

He could have come after her.
Pulled rank, forced her to stay. But that would have only caused a big scene. Instead all he did was send her a furious scowl.

Anger pounding in her temples,
she spun around and headed out the exit, leaving him fuming and her stomach empty.

###

Parker watched his headstrong wife march out of the café and head for the museum exit, his jaw as tight as a vice grip.

Why couldn’t she listen to reason? Why couldn’t she take some precautions? But she’d never been one to be cautious when she thought a clue
was at hand. And she had good instincts. Most of the time they were dead on point. It would be counterproductive to keep her from following up on them. And as she said, it was only shopping.

Still, if anything happened to her…

He let out a long sigh and headed back to the table. This consulting business of theirs might prove to be the death of him.

He found Sir Neville staring off into space, dismay in his eyes.

Parker set down the tray and sat across from him. “Are you all right, Sir Neville?”

The man shook himself out of his reverie and frowned. “Oh, I suppose I am.

“Would you like a sandwich?”

“Miranda isn’t eating with you?”

“No, she had an errand.” Best his friend didn’t know what that errand was. He picked up his sandwich and took a bite.

Sir Neville
shook his head. “No, thank you, Russell. I had something earlier.” His light blue eyes took on a faraway look again and his white brows drew together. “I saw Davinia with a young man at the match today.”

Parker tensed.
He’d seen them too and knew that’s what had brought on the anxiety attack. “Oh?”

“He’s a friend of Lionel’s. Used to be a polo player himself. He’s in advertising, I believe.”

As the Duchess of Oxham had said.

“He’s a very handsome chap.”
Sir Neville’s upper lip began to quiver.

Parker stopped chewing.

“The thing is…”

“What?”

He watched his friend wrestle back the painful emotions that must have gripped him on the polo field earlier.

“She had that look in her eye. That glow. The one she used to have when we first met.”

Parker put down his sandwich. He hadn’t expected this. “Neville, I—”

“We used to talk for hours back then. We had so much in common. She was an art student in college and had an interest in the Etruscan period. Then we married and after a few years it all…disappeared. It was as if she woke up one morning and realized she’d been beguiled into marrying someone beneath her.”

Parker thought of the problems Miranda had had because of the difference in their status. It had taken all the patience he had to convince her they had a future together. “I’m sure that isn’t the case, Neville. All marriages go through ups and downs.”

“Ours has been down for over a decade. It wasn’t until today that I realized how far down it was.” He turned to Parker, his blue eyes glassy. “Russell—I think Davinia’s going to leave me.”