“New York City,” Vito answered. “It’s about the game.” He put the game CD on his desk and she picked it up. “Be careful with that. Brent says that game’s gold.”
She tilted her head looking at the back cover. “So is the company.”
Nick was watching her. “Brent meant you couldn’t find the game in the stores.”
“I don’t know anything about that. But the company’s name is Oro. It means ‘gold’ in both Spanish and Italian.” Sophie squinted. “Oro is an acronym. Under their logo are little words, but the font’s too small. Do you have a bigger picture of their logo?”
Vito opened the company’s website on his computer and Sophie leaned close to the screen as the dragon soared. “These words aren’t Spanish or Italian. They’re Dutch.”
“Makes sense,” Vito said. “Their president’s from Holland. What do they mean?”
“Well, the R is rijkdom. It means wealth. The bigger of the two Os is onderhoud, which is… entertainment or fun. The smallest O…” She frowned. “Overtreffen. To go over, do better.” She looked up at Vito. “Maybe to transcend, become more.”
“R is the biggest letter,” Vito observed. “I guess we know what oRo’s priorities are.”
“How long will you be gone?” she asked.
He was looking through his files. “Just for the day probably.”
“What should I do while you’re gone? I can’t stay here all day.”
“I know,” he muttered, but offered no suggestions as he stacked folders.
“I’m Joan of Arc at ten,” she added wryly. “And the Viking queen at one and four-thirty.”
“You need a new repertoire,” Nick said, zipping up his coat. “You’re gettin’ stale.”
“I know. I’m thinking Marie Antoinette, before she lost her head, of course. Or maybe Boudiccea, Celtic Warrior Queen.” She sucked in a cheek. “She fought topless.”
Vito’s hands froze on the folders. “That is so not fair, Sophie.”
“Yeah,” Nick echoed faintly. “Really so not fair.”
She laughed. “Now we’re even for making me come in so early.” She sobered. “Vito, I don’t want to be stupid, but I have responsibilities. I’ll be careful. I’ll call before I leave and when I get there. But I can’t sit here all day.”
“I’ll ask Liz to get you an escort to the museum. Wait until she can. Please, Sophie, just until we locate Lombard or his pal Clint.”
“Or Brewster,” she murmured. “It could have been either of them.”
Vito kissed her hard. “Just wait for Liz, okay? Oh, and if you get a chance, Liz has that picture of the Sanders kid. He had a brand on his cheek. A letter T.”
“Okay.” Then she frowned. “You’re the second person in two days to ask me about branding.”
Vito had walked halfway to the door, but stopped and slowly turned. “What?”
She shrugged. “It’s nothing. One of my students asked me for some research sources on branding, for a paper he was writing.”
She watched Vito and Nick look at each other. “What’s this student’s name?”
Sophie shook her head. “No way. His name’s John Trapper, but… no way. I’ve known John for months. And he’s a paraplegic in a wheelchair. There is no way he could have done this.”
Vito’s mouth went flat. “I don’t like coincidences, Sophie. We’ll check him out.”
“Vito…” She sighed. “Okay. It’ll be a waste of your time, but I know you have to.”
Vito clenched his jaw. “Promise me you won’t go anywhere without an escort.”
“I promise. Now go. I’ll be fine.”
Thursday, January 18, 9:15
A.M.
“This is so embarrassing,” Sophie muttered.
“Better to be embarrassed than to be dead,” Officer Lyons said mildly.
“I know. But driving me here in a cruiser, and now you’re walking me to the door… Everybody’s going to think I’m in trouble,” she grumbled.
“Lieutenant Sawyer’s orders. I could write you a note, if that would help.”
Sophie laughed. She had sounded like a disgruntled first grader. “That’s okay.” She stopped at the door of the Albright and shook Lyons’s hand. “Thank you.”
He touched his hat. “Call Sawyer’s office when you want to come back.”
Patty Ann’s eyes widened as Sophie came in. “You were with the cops?”
Goth Wednesday was over. Patty Ann was Brooklyn again, and Sophie remembered the tryouts for Guys and Dolls were tonight. “Good luck on the audition, Patty Ann.”
“What’s wrong?” Patty asked in what might have been her normal voice. It had been so long since she’d heard it, Sophie wasn’t sure. “Why are cops bringing you to work?”
“Cops?” Ted came out of his office, frowning. “Were the police here again?”
“I was helping them with a case,” she said, then wished she’d taken Lyons up on the note when Ted and Patty Ann did not look convinced. “I’m dating one of the detectives and I had car trouble, so he had an officer give me a ride.” Kind of true.
Patty Ann relaxed and her eyes went sly. “The dark one or the redhead?”
“The dark one. But the redhead is too old for you, so forget about him.”
She pouted. “Shoot.”
Ted was still frowning. “First your motorcycle and now your car? We need to talk.”
She followed him into his office and he shut the door, then sat behind his desk. “Sit down.” When she had, he leaned forward, his expression worried. “Sophie, are you in trouble? Please be honest with me.”
“No. Both of the things I said were true. I’m helping the police and dating one of the cops. That’s all, Ted. Why is this such a big deal?”
He looked grim. “I got a call last night. From a police officer in New York. She said they needed to get in touch with you. That it was official business.”
Lombard’s wife had called from a New York area code. “You gave her my cell.”
Ted’s chin lifted. “I did.”
Sophie flipped open her phone and found the log of the call from Lombard’s wife. “Is this the number that called you last night?”
Ted took her phone, compared the number to his caller ID. “Yes.”
“She wasn’t the police. You can call the New York police and check if you want.”
Ted started to relax. He handed her back the phone. “Then who was she?”
“It’s a long story, Ted. She’s a jealous wife who thinks I’m stealing her husband.”
His suspicion became indignation. “You wouldn’t do that, Sophie.”
She had to smile. “Thanks. Now, listen, I have some ideas before the tour this morning that I wanted to run by you.” She leaned forward and told him about Yuri. “He said he would come and talk to a tour group. I’m thinking we could add an exhibit on the Cold War and communism. It’s not the period your grandfather studied, but-”
Ted was nodding, slowly. “I like it. A lot. Not enough people think of that as history.”
“I’m not sure I did until yesterday. It was his hands, Ted. Made me think.”
Ted studied her carefully. “You seem to be thinking a lot lately. I like that, too.”
Uncertain how to respond to that, Sophie stood up. “You know, we had a visitor yesterday who said he was from a retirement home and looking for an interesting outing for his fellow residents. Seems to me that they’d be more than willing to come in and talk to school groups. Don’t limit it to wars. Have them talk about radio programs and TV and inventions and how they felt when Neil Armstrong stepped on the moon.”
“Another good idea. Did you get the man’s name?”
“No, but he said he was going to book a tour with Patty Ann. She’d have his name.” Sophie opened the door, then paused, her hand on the doorknob. “How do you feel about adding some more tours? Joan and the Viking queen are gettin’ kind of stale.”