“Conrad?”

“Regan?”

“You two know each other?” Alexis shrieked.

“Honey, I sold the loft to Regan and her husband.”

“Now I know you’re cool,” Alexis said to Regan. “My dad’s soon-to-be ex-wife loved that place. That’s why I was never there. I’m so glad it’s not hers anymore.”

“Alexis,” Conrad gently chided.

I knew something was up when he sold us the loft and Lorraine wasn’t around, Regan thought.

“Daddy, I’m so glad you’re here,” Alexis said as she gave him a hug. “You’re just in time. We have to help find someone who could be in a lot of trouble.”

“Of course,” Conrad responded, a catch in his voice. He felt overcome by the display of affection from his daughter. It had been so long since she’d hugged him like that. Until this moment he didn’t realize just how terribly he had missed her. “Regan, I can tell you’re in charge here,” he managed to say. “What should we do?”

35

T he flashing red lights of several parked police cars pierced the darkness on the West Side Highway. “Owww,” Wally moaned as a paramedic tended to his nose. “That hurts!”

He and Arthur were still sitting on the ground. Jack Reilly and his assistant, Keith, were crouched down, talking with them. The glass sculptures that had been in the backpack were spread out on the dirty blankets they’d been wrapped in.

Detectives were scouting the surrounding area for the runaway thief.

Arthur’s head was spinning. He’d broken into Jack Reilly’s apartment tonight, locked his wife on the roof, and now here Reilly was thanking them for their bravery.

Jack patted Arthur on the back. “If you hadn’t run after the thief—”

“What about me?” Wally grumbled. “If I hadn’t said a friendly hello to the lunatic, this never would have happened.”

Jack laughed. “You’re right, Wally. Listen, I’d like for you guys come to my office. I spoke to the owners of the gallery. They are out of their minds with joy. They’ll be there, and I know they want to meet you. We have to take these sculptures downtown and lift any prints we can get off of them before they’re returned. We’ll also lift prints off this grimy backpack and see if it can be traced. I’ll get us some food and a new shirt for you, Wally.”

“What about my car?”

“Give me the keys. I’ll have a couple of my guys get some gas, then drive it to my office.”

“Okay.”

“We’ll want to fingerprint you, Arthur, since we know you touched the sculptures and the backpack. It’s called elimination prints. That way we can focus on other prints we pick up.”

Arthur felt faint. He’d never been fingerprinted before. Now they’d have a record of his prints. The same prints that were on the stun gun. “Sure,” he mumbled. “Wally touched at least one of the sculptures, too.”

“Then we’ll fingerprint him as well. I’m also planning to get the gallery owners’ prints.”