“We have taken into custody a young woman who is close to the culprit. When he has finished questioning her, Locke will arrange an exchange. The girl for what was taken.”
“Details, please.” These were the first words Rhiannon had spoken, and her velvety voice betrayed no emotion. Of the two, she posed the greater potential threat to Morgan. Tamsin had no guile, while Rhiannon was cool and calculating. Tamsin had authority, but lacked the ability to capture the hearts and minds of the people. Rhiannon was beloved as a spiritual leader, though if the world knew her true religion, she would be cast down. Fortunately, Rhiannon had never given any indication that her position, a step below Morgan, chafed at all.
Morgan could see no use in prevaricating. She outlined Locke’s plan, assuring them that the long sought-after treasure would be in their hands in a matter of days.
“Do we know which of the three it is?” Rhiannon maintained her calm, courteous manner.
“No.” Morgan had her suspicions, based on accounts of the thieves’ escape, but she would not share them.
“Very well,” Tamsin sighed. “I need not remind you that the plan…”
“I know, Sister.”
“Then you understand our concern,” Rhiannon said smoothly. “The window of opportunity is a small one. If our quest confounds us again, we will be forced to wait.”
“Need I remind you that, a few days ago, we were utterly without hope?” Morgan met their stares each in turn. “Now that hope is rekindled, and I am doing everything in my power to see to it that we do not miss this opportunity. But do not forget, Sisters, the mere possession of any of these artifacts is no small thing. We can use them to cement our power and entrench ourselves in the imaginations of the people. We will be queens!”
“You will be Queen,” Rhiannon corrected. “Your bloodline is more direct than ours.”
Morgan smiled at the thought. Prime Minister was well within her reach, but her aim was higher. She longed for the day they could finally set the plan in motion. A wave of change was about to sweep the world, and she would ride its crest.
“Sister, do we know the thief’s name?” Tamsin seemed, if not cowed, at least placated.
“Maddock,” Morgan said. “Dane Maddock.”
Chapter 21
Trinity Church sat at the corner of Wall Street and Broadway. Its ornate spire, nearly three hundred feet high, stood in stark contrast to the modern buildings all around. A wrought iron fence ringed the property, as if to stave off the intrusion of city life. Dane found it disorienting to look upon the centuries-old brown stone church, the gothic architecture, and the historical cemetery, with its weathered gravestones, crypts, and monuments, then turn his head to see congested streets choked with taxi cabs and sidewalks where pedestrians navigated an obstacle course of vendors’ carts and gawking sightseers. He, Bones, and Avery paused in front of it, taking a moment to admire the famed landmark.
“So this was Kidd’s church, huh?” Bones asked.
“It was.” Avery quickly donned the mantle of lecturing professor. “Not this building, of course. This is actually the third Trinity Church. The original structure was built in 1698. During its construction, Kidd even lent the runner and tackle from his ship to help them move the stones.”
“That’s pretty old, for white Americans, that is.” Bones gave her an evil grin and Dane chuckled. “The cemetery looks pretty cool. Maybe we’ll have time to check it out.”
“There are a lot of famous people buried here and in Trinity’s other two cemeteries. Alexander Hamilton, Horacio Gates, Robert Fulton, John Jacob Astor…”
“Wait, the Jingleheimer Schmidt guy is buried here?” Before Avery could reply, Bones laughed and gave her arm a squeeze.
“Good thing Angel isn’t here. She’d have punched you for that one.” Dane felt a pang of regret and realized how quickly he’d grown accustomed to Angel’s presence. He missed her easy laugh, her self-confidence, and the way she rode herd on Bones.
“Yeah. Don’t you know she’s climbing the walls in that rinky dink jail?”
“You don’t seem too concerned that your sister is sitting in a jail cell,” Avery said. “Are you two not close?”
“She’s fine.” Bones waved her concern away like a wisp of smoke. “This isn’t Angel’s first rodeo. She wasn’t as bad as me when we were kids, but she had her moments. I just feel sorry for her jailer. You think I can get under someone’s skin, you ought to see her in action.”
Dane smiled at the thought, but couldn’t escape a feeling of guilt that they hadn’t found a way to get her out of her predicament.
They spent a moment longer admiring the church and the grounds, soaking in the history.
“Doesn’t it seem like we go to a lot of these places?” Bones asked.
“Yeah, but no complaints here.” Dane examined the architecture, its blend of sturdy lines and artistic trappings. He loved these pockets of history that stood against the disposable construction of recent generations “At least, not too many complaints.”
“You guys keep dropping these little comments about places you’ve gone and things you’ve done,” Avery said, “but you won’t dish. It’s starting to tick me off.” She gave them each the evil eye and stalked into the church.
Dane grimaced and looked at Bones, who chuckled.
“She’s a spitfire.” He started to say something, then hesitated. It was a strange thing for Dane to witness. Bones was never uncertain about anything. At least, he never let it show. “Say, Maddock, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
“All right. Shoot.” As eager as he was to go inside and begin the search, he was, at the moment, even more curious about what Bones wanted to talk about.
“It’s kind of weird for a guy to have a thing for his best friend’s sister, don’t you think?”
Dane felt his face grow hot. All his conflicted feelings about Angel rose anew. Had he been that obvious? How long had bones known?
“Bones, I don’t know what to say.”
“Look, if you want me to stay away from her, I will. She’s your sister and I don’t want to mess up our friendship, but I wouldn’t mind hanging out with her. She’s cool.” He looked at Dane then looked away.
It took Dane a moment to realize what Bones was talking about, and then he laughed.
“Oh! You mean Avery.” Relief flooded through him.
“Yeah. Wait, who did you think I meant?” Bones cocked his head and looked quizzically at him.
“Nobody.” He quickened his pace and didn’t meet Bones’s eye. “Yeah, that’s cool. I could tell you have a thing for her, and she’s only been my sister for a couple of days.”
“Dude, you suck at math. She’s been your sister all her life.”
“You know what I mean. It might be different if we’d grown up together.”
“Yeah, that might be a little different.” Bones sounded thoughtful.
“We’d better get going.” He strode through the gate, headed toward the entrance, relieved Bones didn’t press the issue.
By the time they caught up with Avery, she had used her credentials and charm to gain a look at the journal. She sat at at table under the close scrutiny of an archivist, a stocky man with light brown hair, blue eyes, and a youthful face. He gave Bones a funny look before returning his attention to Avery, who was carefully turning the pages with gloved fingers. Dane and Bones sat down on either side of her and watched her work.
The journal was thin, its pages yellow, and the script faded. Avery worked her way through the book at a steady pace, her blue eyes moving back and forth across the page as she devoured the text, putting Dane to mind of a typewriter carriage. When she finally reached the end, she frowned.