Justice

TWO

Fifty-seven minutes after he hung up the phone, they skidded to a halt in the Mount Vernon parking lot. Maddock leaped out of the car and hit the ground at a near run, stopping only to pay their admission fee before hurrying up the hill toward the main building.

Mount Vernon stood atop a long, gently sloping hill. The sun gleamed on its white boards, red roof, and high cupola. Outbuildings, their walls and roofs matching in color, flanked a drive that ended in a roundabout in front of the main door.

Melissa waited outside the door. She embraced him and buried her head in his shoulder. He could feel the muscles in her shoulders and upper back move as she breathed deeply. He just held on.

The moment passed quickly as she pulled away and looked him in the eyes.

He could stare at that delicate face and green eyes forever, and he never could resist the urge to run his fingers through her fine brown hair. Sometimes he wondered…

“Did you hear what I said?”

He realized Melissa had been speaking and he snapped himself back into focus. He saw no trace of tears or weakness, just focus and a touch of exasperation.

“Sorry, I was busy admiring your lovely face. What did you say?”

“I said you need to come with me right now. The police are still interviewing Sarah in one of the servant’s buildings, and I want to show you something before they decide to seal the place off.”

He and Bones followed her through the main door. They passed beneath the winding staircase that led up to the second floor and stepped out into the central passage, a wood-paneled entryway with two doors on either side, leading to different parts of the house, and a larger door directly ahead which opened onto terrace, the iconic covered porch that looked down onto the Potomac. On the wall to their right hung a glass case which held a large iron key. Nothing seemed unusual about the room except perhaps the presence of half a dozen muddy footprints.

Bones scanned the room. “What’s the problem? You want us to beat up the janitorial squad?”

Melissa rolled her eyes. “Don’t pull that ignorant crap on me, Uriah. I know you better than that. The problem is that someone messed with the Bastille Key.” She pointed to the key in the glass case.

Bones appealed to Maddock. “Dude, she called me Uriah. I’ve killed men for less.”

Maddock ignored him. “What’s this Bastille Key?”

“It’s a key to the famous French prison. It was a gift to George Washington from Marquis de Lafayette back in 1790.”

Maddock walked over to the display. “Looks fine to me.”

She sighed. “The key itself is fine. But see how those footprints are darkest right by the case? When I saw that, I took a closer look. Reach your hand under the case.”

“Won’t that set off the alarm?”

She shook her head. “We turned the alarms off in this building when the police arrived.”

Maddock’s fingers immediately discovered some sort of hinge mechanism not visible from a normal view. He squatted down and examined it. The lock showed clear signs of forced entry and was now held in place with a single nail through the hasps.

“Did they take or damage anything?”

“Not as far as I can tell. But take a look at that bit of green stuff at the bottom of the case.”

This time, Bones also leaned over to get a better view. Maddock pulled his fingers away with a small bit of the substance on his fingers. It felt like…

“Wax.” Bones exclaimed. “So we know they were after the key.”

Maddock frowned. “How do we know that?”

Bones shook his head. “Sheesh, you need to get with the program. The wax means—.”

He stopped and looked at Melissa. “Do you want to tell him or should I?”

Melissa shrugged. “I don’t actually know what the deal is. I just thought it was suspicious.”

“Fair enough,” Bones said. “Lucky for you two I have a checkered past. The wax tells us they’re making a copy of the key.”

Voices sounded at the entryway and two police detectives entered, escorting Sarah Abrams. Bones and Maddock had met the forty-something curator two days earlier when they had arrived from their San Diego training base. Despite weighing less than a hundred pounds at five-four or five-five, she had bubbled with energy, her blond locks dancing as she gave them a rush tour of some Mount Vernon highlights. Now Abrams looked pale, her eyes focused in the distance despite standing and shaking hands with one of two detectives in the room.

The other detective entered. He stood a couple inches taller than Maddock, with light brown skin and short, black hair. He cast a solid figure despite some extra pounds around the middle. His brown eyes scanned the doorway and his hand moved slowly about three inches toward the inside of his jacket. Most people would have failed to notice this, but Maddock knew the man was preparing for the possibility of having to draw a weapon. He made sure his hands were clearly visible and at his sides.

The officer stopped the motion toward his jacket and extended his hand instead.

“Detective Dwayne Ramos. You must be Dane Maddock.” He spoke with a slow, southern drawl, unusual for the DC area.

Maddock’s eyes must have betrayed his surprise at hearing his name, because Ramos chuckled as he took the offered hand. “Your little lady said y’all would be coming along to keep an eye on her. I thought she was spinning a yarn about Mr. Bonebrake here, but if anything she didn’t rightly do him justice.”

Bones laughed. “Story of my life. Was it my charm or my good looks that caught you off guard?”

Ramos narrowed his eyes for a moment before a grin returned. “She mentioned your height, but mostly she warned me about your mouth.”

Melissa avoided the ensuing glare from Bones and managed to keep a straight face. “What can you tell us, Detective?”

“Nothing you don’t already know, I’m sorry to say. She was hit from behind and didn’t get a good look at her attacker. We’ll be taking her to Inovo just to get her checked out.”

“Inovo?” Maddock asked?

“Hospital a few miles away in Alexandria. In the meantime, Ms. Moore, we need to get your statement.”

“No problem, but I’m following you to Inovo afterward. Sarah needs to have someone with her.”

Ramos looked at Bones and Maddock.

“SEALs, right?”

Maddock nodded.

“I did four years as a squid myself before I landed at Mt. Vernon P.D. You boys know I can’t have you in here for the interview?”

Maddock frowned. “I suspected that.”

Ramos’ gaze drifted to the Bastille key and his eyes widened. “I didn’t realize this is the room where the…” He turned to his partner. “Get those idiots outside to seal off this room.” He turned back to Melissa and forced a smile. “I’m sorry about that. This room should have been sealed off immediately. When it wasn’t taped off, I assume the key was in another location. Let’s talk about somewhere else. How about the study?

Maddock jumped in. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Detective.”

For the first time, Ramos showed confusion. “Why is that?”

Maddock didn’t answer. Instead he strode through the small bedchamber that lay between the central passage and the study, stopping at the study door.

“This partial print looks like it’s a match for the ones near the Bastille key.” He pointed to a crescent shaped section of a heel print.

Ramos wasted no time in shouldering past Maddock and ordering everyone to stay out of the study. Maddock, Bones, and Melissa stood just outside the door, watching as the detective scanned the floor for more prints and then looked all around.

“Ms. Moore, Ms. Abrams,” he finally said, “will you please come in here? And be careful not to disturb the footprint.”

Melissa stepped inside, Maddock keeping his eyes trained on her, followed by Sarah. Something about Ramos put him on the defensive.

“You are more familiar with this room than I am. Do you see anything out of sorts?”

Melissa and Sarah looked around.

“The books inside the case have been disturbed,” Sarah said. “See how some have been pulled out and not pushed all the way back in? They’re not usually like that.”

Ramos nodded. “We’ll have to fingerprint the case. Anything else?”

Melissa turned in a slow circle, paused, and frowned. “The portrait of Washington is different.” She pointed to a painting on the wall. Washington sat in a wooden chair, left hand on his thigh, looking off to the side.

“What do you mean? Someone moved it?”

She frowned and tapped her pursed lips, a habit Maddock found extremely attractive.

“I can’t say for sure. There’s just something different about it. Sorry, that’s all I can say.”

“All right.” Ramos turned to Maddock and Bones. “How about you gentlemen clear out entirely? Lord knows what else our team has missed.” He turned his back, Maddock and Bones already forgotten.

“These guys are clueless,” Bones whispered.

“Why? Because they missed something?”

“That wasn’t all they missed. Buy me a cup of coffee and I’ll tell you all about it.”