Page 23 of Smoke Screen
At 7:30on the nose. Maddy strode into the executive suite and paused for a second to take in the warm glow of morning sunlight through the windows.
Normally the first to arrive, she enjoyed settling into the day with quiet and coffee. That hour alone? No phones, no people chattering, no printers whirring.
Heaven.
In his endless generous spirit, President Thompson had gifted them with a commercial espresso machine Maddy had mastered and then taught her coworkers how to use, in hopes they wouldn’t drive her insane by constantly asking for help. She’d even created a how-to video and sent it to each of them. It helped reduce the questions, but there was still the occasional outcry when the frothing spout ran amok.
She entered her office, tucked her tote bag in the normal spot behind her desk and dropped her keys in the top drawer before heading to the kitchen.
Two steps from her office, murmuring voices behind the conference room door drew her attention.
Someone. Several someones.
Not that she was eavesdropping.
Perhaps President Thompson had an early meeting. She cleared her throat loudly enough to alert the entire block they had company. Seconds later, before she made the turn into the kitchen, the ka-chunk of a door latch sounded. She swung back and found her boss standing in the conference room doorway.
“Morning,” Frank said in his normal cool voice. “After you get coffee, would you join us? The FBI is here. They’d like to speak with you.”
The FBI.
Maybe a break in the case? Forget coffee.
“Coffee can wait,” she said.
Frank stepped back into the room, opening the door wider for her to enter. A clean-cut man in his thirties with short dark hair and a woman, maybe a few years older, sat at the table with President Thompson.
“Maddy,” Frank said, “this is Special Agent Cameron Blackwell and Special Agent Renee Walker.”
Cameron Blackwell, Phin’s brother. She’d heard the name over the course of the investigation, but had never spoken to him directly.
Maddy shook hands with both agents, her mind ticking back to her meeting with Phin and his brothers the day before. Did Special Agent Blackwell know they’d hired BARS?
At the head of the table, President Thompson greeted her with his usual smile. “Good morning, Maddy.”
“Good morning, sir.”
She took the open seat next to Frank, across from the two agents.
“Ms. Carmichael,” Special Agent Blackwell said, “thank you for joining us. We have some security footage to show you.”
“Of course. Happy to help.”
He pointed to the white screen on the far wall, then nodded to his partner, who tapped her iPad. A second later, the wall screen filled with a paused video frame showing knocked over mannequins and shattered glass. Maddy flicked her gaze to the date stamp. The night of the robbery.
“We’ve cued this,” Special Agent Walker said, “at the point where the unknown subjects take the queen’s tiaras.”
Walker tapped the screen, and the video rolled. Like the first time Maddy had seen it, the footage hit her like a gut punch. From the time those pieces came into the Center’s possession, she’d been the only one to handle them. They’d promised the Thompsons, who then promised the queen, Maddy would be the only one. She’d purchased the softest cotton gloves on the market, climbed into the enormous, specially treated museum-quality case and gingerly placed each piece. Adjusting and readjusting, climbing out of the case, checking the light for glares, making sure the seams were straight on the mannequin’s clothing, then climbing back in, over and over, until she’d perfected the display.
Now, she watched men shatter cases, roughly snatch her carefully placed pieces off stands, and rip the triple-strand diamond necklace from the mannequin. Maddy’s stomach knotted, the rage and disappointment shooting straight from her chest.
“It’s horrible,” she said.
Special Agent Walker paused the video and zoomed in. “Please look at the man on the right.”
Maddy shifted her gaze. A red arrow appeared, pointing to a spot where the man’s ski mask cinched up, revealing two inches of tattooed skin between his shirt collar and mask.
Beside that image, Walker brought up another video. This one of Maddy, in the exhibit, talking to three men. Well, speaking to two men, the third had turned and appeared to be reading one of the plaques.
