Page 63 of Broken Halos
“He showed up out of the blue back in September. I told him I wasn’t interested, but he didn’t believe me right away. In fact, he didn’t believe me until last night when he saw Ollie and me together. He apologized to us both for trying to cause trouble, and it was the last we spoke to him. It was then Ollie noticed Lucien Clarke’s intense focus on Ryder. He watched him as he made his way through the room.”
“Did Mr. Jameson indicate he was aware of his presence? Acknowledge him in any way?” Agent Marshall asked.
“Not that we saw,” I told them. “We weren’t there long, as you can tell by the footage.”
Kiphart nodded and exchanged a glance with Marshall. “That’s all we have for you today. We ask that you give us a call right away if you learn anything new.”
“Sure,” I agreed.
I sat on an uncomfortable plastic chair and waited for Ollie to finish his interview. I couldn’t help but worry about him since he’d been so nervous, but he offered a crooked smile when he finished.
“It wasn’t so bad,” he said sheepishly.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said.
When we exited the police station, I noticed it had finally stopped raining. I also saw that Ryder was standing on the corner like he was waiting for the crosswalk sign to change so he could cross the street.
“Is that Ryder?” Ollie asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “He looks like he’s still in his tuxedo from last night.”
“Do you think he was here all night?”
“It sure looks like it,” I admitted.
I was about to call out to him when a black sedan with darkly tinted windows pulled up and stopped in front of him just as the crosswalk signal changed. The window rolled down, but I couldn’t see who was behind the wheel. Ryder looked alarmed at first but ended up getting in the car. It sped away before I could memorize the license plate number.
“Not our business,” I told Ollie. “You know everyone is waiting to hear about our big adventure with the feds. Let’s get it over with and make the best of our day.”
“Does making the best of it involve nudity?”
“Without a doubt, baby. Without a doubt.”
THE MISSING WINE VESSEL STAYEDa hot topic on the news for a few more weeks, but eventually, the excitement died down when all the tips, speculation, and rumors couldn’t turn up the missing item. It wasn’t long before the latest political scandal rocked the nation and became the top story everyone discussed online or gossiped about over coffee. I thought it was too bad because the longer the wine vessel went without being found, the unlikelier it became the museum would recover it. The person with the skill to bypass complex security systems and jumble the video feed surely had the resources to get the item to its destination which I figured was a private collector with too much money and too little morals.
The day before Thanksgiving, I stopped by Claire’s to pick up my usual order on my way to Ryan’s Place. Esther had plans to teach me the proper way to make yeast rolls for our big dinner, and I was going to teach her the secrets to the best pumpkin pie they’d ever eat. I checked my phone while I waited for Claire to fill my order then looked over to the corner of the room when I felt someone watching me. I hardly recognized Ryder Jameson as the same man I met months before. He looked gaunt, exhausted, and barely hanging on.
I walked to his table, unable to resist the sadness I saw in his blue eyes. “Ryder, are you okay? You look…” I let my voice trail off while I searched for the right thing to say.
“Like hell?” he suggested, his mouth tipping up at the corner. “It’s because I feel like hell. I’ve felt this way ever since the night of the gala.” He ran both hands through his hair, leaving it sticking up in spikes all over the place. I noticed he was dressed too casually to have come from work.
I pulled out a chair and sat down without waiting to be invited. “Did they fire you?” I asked hesitantly.
“Put on paid leave until they can be sure I wasn’t the one who helped Lucien Clarke steal the wine vessel.” He looked at me with earnest, pleading eyes. “It wasn’t me, Ollie. I don’t know why I care what you think, but I’m telling the truth.”
“I believe you, Ryder.” And I did, even though I didn’t have a reason to believe him. “Do you have a past with Lucien?”
“You could say that again,” he sneered. “Of course, I never knew him as Lucien Clarke back then. He was Sebastian Deveraux. We met at a bar in Paris and had a torrid affair for weeks. He was so urbane, worldly, and sexy. He was so knowledgeable about art, and we spent many nights sharing wine and discussing my favorite subject. I didn’t realize he was using me until a valuable piece of art was stolen from the museum at the same time the man I’d started to fall in love with disappeared. It was a gala similar to the one here, and he’d told me he wouldn’t be able to make it because he had to travel for work. I was crushed when I saw footage of him at the event. He was careful to stay where I couldn’t see him while keeping me in his sight. God, I was such a fool, Ollie. I went to the museum director with my tail between my legs and told him about the man who introduced himself to me as a British businessman working in Paris who loved art, opera, and wine.”
“I’m really sorry, Ryder. Did you get in trouble at work?”
“They were extremely suspicious but couldn’t prove I’d given Lucien information to help him. He hadn’t used my employee ID to access any of our databases or mess with security alarms and cameras. They determined I was a stupid sap he used to get information. I barely held onto my job.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Art is my life. What will I do if I lose my job?”
“Fight for your job, Ryder. Don’t roll over and play dead.” I recalled the black, luxury sedan with the tinted windows. “Was he the one you got into the car with after you left the police station?”
Ryder’s eyes widened in alarm, and he looked like he was going to deny it, but instead, he said, “It was him.”
“What did he want?”