“I’ve no objection. Just so it’s effective.”

“But before we go into hunting and any other skills Joe Quinn might have taught you, I suggest we go lie down and you let me hold you for a while.”

“That’s a fine suggestion.” Jane’s voice was trembling as she reached out and took his hand. “I can see why Fraser was so impressed by you.”

“I hoped you’d feel that way.” He slipped his arm around her waist and was leading her into the rail yard. “Because I really want to hold you and my little girl tonight.”

*  *  *

2:40 A.M.

Jane’s eyes snapped open.

“There’s more!” she said aloud.

Caleb woke and turned over. “What?”

Jane quickly reached for her tablet computer and scrolled through the hundreds of photos she’d taken the day before. “I’ve been dreaming about the mural.”

Caleb sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Of course you have.”

“I’m serious.” She was still scrolling through the photos. “I’ve been going through every inch of that mural in my mind ever since we first saw it. The right side looks…different.” She pinched her screen to zoom in on one of the mural shots. “See what I mean?”

Caleb squinted at it. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

“The style and colors are the same, but the brushstrokes have a slightly different quality to them.” She zoomed in on the lower right-hand corner, where there was a slight discoloration. “And look at this.”

“An imperfection?”

“It’s more than that. It’s a chip.” She pointed at the spot. “Maybe something was bumped against this painting at some point. In any case, it shows that there’s something underneath this section of the painting. It’s been painted over.”

Caleb nodded. “Don’t artists do this all the time when they’re creating their works? Including you?”

“Of course. But coupled with the difference in brushstrokes in this entire side of the painting, this looks like a drastic revision, possibly by someone else. There has to be a reason for it.”

“Interesting.”

She stared at the photo a moment longer. “I want to see what’s underneath.”

He nodded. “Museum researchers have equipment that can do that, don’t they?”

“Yes. They use infrared reflectography scanners.”

“I know some people at the Louvre who can—”

“I want to see it now.”

He smiled. “Well, unless you happen to have an infrared reflectography scanner with you…”

“I do, kind of.”

His smile faded. “What?”

She reached for her bag and pulled out her camera. “Most digital cameras can be modified for infrared photography. If you know what you’re doing, it only takes a few minutes.”

“And you know what you’re doing?”