“A few of them had records, were busted for drugs…. Yeah, here we go…Dionne and Monique both were hauled in and charged after they were juveniles. Dionne has a love tattoo on her back with a hummingbird and flowers. Surely one of the girls had a distinguishing mark on the left hand….” But there was nothing obvious in her data.

“I thought I told you to leave this case alone,” Del Vernon said as she closed one of her files.

“It’s a good thing for both of us I ignored you.”

He actually flashed a smile. Del Vernon of the ever-grim, studious countenance and tight butt, rained a quick but sexy grin on her for a second. “It’s never a good idea to ignore me. This time, you were right and I was wrong. You might want to mark this date with red letters because I seriously doubt it’ll ever happen again.”

Uh-huh, Portia thought, as she watched him saunter away.

Ariel? Was it really Ariel’s face she’d seen, looking so scared. And what was she doing inside Wagner House?

Putting her own misgivings aside, Kristi hurried up the steps at the back of Wagner House and tried the door. It clicked open under her hand. It wasn’t locked. Amazed, she stepped inside the darkened kitchen and her heart began to pound. She saw the door to the basement and knew this was her chance. No one knew she was inside.

Yet.

Tiptoeing quietly to the basement door, she reached for the knob.

Too late. The door swung open in front of her. She snatched her hand back as Father Mathias stepped into the kitchen.

“Oh!” he whispered, startled. Then, focusing on Kristi, he scowled harshly. “You again. Didn’t I just tell you the museum wasn’t open?”

“Yes, but my glasses—”

“I’ve already looked in the lost and found. They weren’t there.” Obviously irritated, he closed the door tightly shut behind him. “Now, really, you have to leave.”

“Father?” A female voice. The same voice she’d heard through the window. “What’s going on?” Wrapped in a black coat trimmed in dark fur, a tall regal-looking woman strode swiftly into the kitchen. Deep-set eyes glared down an aquiline nose. “Who are you?” she asked, then before Kristi could answer, followed up with, “And what are you doing here?”

“She claims she lost her glasses on the last tour.”

One of the woman’s eyebrows lifted in superior disbelief. “When?”

Kristi had the lie ready. “Last weekend. I came by with friends.”

“Really?” Her smirk revealed her skepticism. “Well, the staff will certainly look for them. Come back when the docent is on duty.”

“I really need them for work.” Kristi stood her ground. “Today.”

“Yes, yes, so you said, but I told you the house is closed,” Father Mathias insisted.