His eyes stopped on a series of ropes and pulleys hanging from the rafters. Relief flooded him. He’d set up a system just for this purpose when his brain had been functioning at its peak. The ropes slid along the beam to the side of his cage structure. A leather harness once used for horses had been adapted to fit around a person. He strapped Bill in. Rusted pulley wheels squeaked as the apparatus dragged him into the barn. Nathan made some adjustments. Hauling on the ropes, the pulleys lifted Bill from the ground. Securing the rope to a support beam, Nathan pushed Bill through the opening in the front of the cage and removed the harness. The remaining cage side was secured with long screws.

Bill wasn’t getting out.

“Time to call Mandy.” He jumped down and walked out of the barn. His assistant followed.

“There’s no cell service out here.”

“That’s why we’re driving toward town.”

“In daylight?”

“I’ll wear a hat and coat. No one will suspect. We don’t have to go all the way into town. We’ll pick up a signal on the outskirts.” Nathan donned his jacket and hat. His fingers fumbled on the zipper. “You’d better drive.”

As much as Nathan hated being in the passenger seat, ceding control of the vehicle to his assistant was the best choice.

The thought of speaking to Mandy, of hearing her voice again, spurred his spirits and consumed his thoughts. So much so that he didn’t notice the vehicle behind them until it was too late.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Conor circled the block, looking for a parking space. His POS sputtered. “Oh, come on, baby. I know I haven’t treated you right, but please don’t die on me now.”

He gave her some gas. The engine revved back to life.

“That’s my girl.” He nosed into a spot around back and checked the time on his phone. The museum had just opened.

In the first room off the entryway, nasty little Lindsay was dusting exhibit cases. “Mr. Sullivan, what can I do for you?” Her tone made it clear she wasn’t limiting his options to museum business.

“I’m looking for Dr. Hancock.”

“Dr. Hancock isn’t here.” Lindsay flashed an evil smile. Something was up.

“I’ll wait.”

Lindsay shrugged him off. “Whatever.” She dusted her way toward the hall and clomped up the stairs.

Conor began his museum tour with the doorway marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. Dr. Hancock’s office was small and tidy, which would make searching it easy. An antique desk took center stage, but the rest of the furniture was bargain-basement. The desk drawers were full of office supplies. He opened a metal filing cabinet behind the desk and thumbed through the hanging files. Ah-ha. A neat label identified the file on the theft. He pulled the manila folder free and swiveled around.