Chapter Nineteen
Nineteen
When Emily returned to the lab, Terrence was still busy at his worktable, setting pieces of stained glass into new caning with a rubber mallet. Emily hadn’t talked to him yet, other than to say good morning; he seemed intent on his work. She sat down at her computer and opened up a blank slide of her PowerPoint, with a title at the top: Characteristics of the Medieval Body .
She made a steeple of her fingers and pressed them to her mouth. Hmm, let’s see . Broad shoulders? Full lips? Thick…
That’s enough, you absolute cabbage , she chided herself. When she’d first outlined this presentation, she hadn’t imagined this section would be so distracting.
Laurie arrived a few minutes later. After putting on her magnifying visor, she got back to work scraping at the surface of the Essex armor helmet with a surgical scalpel, removing the almost invisible layer of grime without scratching the surface or flaking the original gilding.
The silence in the lab was tense. Emily envied both Terrence and Laurie for having projects to work on, but she was glad she didn’t have to work on the armor. Something about the way those malevolent eye slits stared back at Laurie as she worked filled Emily with dread.
Jason stepped into the office and leaned against the doorframe. “I hope you all had a good weekend. And I hope you managed to do something besides watch the news and listen to podcasts.”
“I heard you have connections to Chinese billionaires, Jason,” Terrence said dryly.
Emily’s mouth fell open. “They’re saying that ?”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah, not bad for a kid who grew up in San Bernardino.” Emily recalled Jason saying that his father was a high school physics teacher.
Terrence said, “Don’t feel bad. Apparently, I have South Side gang connections.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Sure I do, if you count our Hyde Park HOA.”
Emily drooped in her chair. “This is awful. I’m so sorry.” Laurie gave her a sidelong look, and she added, “Sorry you all have to deal with that.”
“On the upside,” Terrence said, “I sold five sculptures in one weekend.”
“Oh, wow. The ones at that Wicker Park gallery?” Emily had looked them up online. They went for a few thousand apiece.
Terrence nodded. “And one big commission. Silver lining.” He looked over at Laurie. “How are things going for you?”
“As usual, nobody can spell my last name,” she said. “It’s the first time I’ve ever been glad of that.”
“I’m still seeing the most about Emily,” Terrence said, and added in a dramatic voice, “?‘Tonight: the medieval masterpiece and the mousy mastermind.’?” Emily’s horror must’ve shown on her face, because he added, “Guess you didn’t watch that one.”
“I’ve been avoiding it all.”
“The board of directors is setting up a reward for the sculpture,” Jason said. “Two million dollars. And a share of it for any information that leads to its safe return.”
Terrence gave a low whistle. “Makes me wish I knew something.”
Laurie said, “Like the FBI agents told me, someone knows something.” She avoided Emily’s gaze.
Jason said, “I know the disappearance and the allegations are a huge distraction, but the medieval weapons exhibit is still moving forward, and we’ve only got a couple of weeks.”
“I’m going to be done with the window by Friday,” Terrence said.
Laurie patted the helmet with her gloved hand. “I’m almost to a conservation surface here. I’m just going to go over it with mineral spirits.”
Jason walked over to her table to inspect her work. “You did a great job of preserving that patina.”
Couldn’t Jason feel it? The dark rage coming from the helm?
Emily told herself that her imagination was running wild. It was no wonder, after her experience with Griffin.
Laurie said, “I’m going to figure out what to use to replace some of the gilding here. Now that I can tell it’s a bird.” She traced her finger in the air above the etched symbol. “I think it’s a crow.”
It reminded Emily of a medieval illustration she’d seen once, depicting a crow—or was it a jackdaw?—picking at a corpse. Shuddering, she shook off the thought.
She attempted to make her voice casual as she asked Jason, “What would you like me to work on next?”
He said, “You remember what we were saying about the Valtierra altarpiece?” He pointed to the wooden panel, about six foot square, laid out on the large back table. Its ornate frames held scenes from the Crucifixion and Resurrection, and the central panel depicted St. George slaying the dragon.
Emily nodded. They’d talked about it in a group staff meeting. “Someone tried to protect it with a coat of beige tempera.” They’d slapped brown paint right over the beautiful bright pigments and gilding.
“Exactly,” he said. “I know we talked about someone from Frames Conservation doing that one, but they’re swamped with the Friends of Caravaggio exhibit, so we may be giving that one to you. Put together a plan to reveal some of the original brightness.”
He was talking to her like a professional, not a criminal. Emily’s spirits rose.
“Absolutely,” she said eagerly. “I think the colors are really important to understanding the piece.”
“Right,” he said distractedly, and then added, with more interest, “How so?”
“Some people went to church just to see those bright colors. Especially in the winter, when everything else in their world was brown.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Where did you read that?”
“Um…I just think that must’ve been true. Most people couldn’t even afford colorful fabrics…you know?”
He tilted his head thoughtfully. “It’s a good insight.”
Emily basked in the compliment, completely undeserved as it was. She was living with the world’s most charming cheat sheet.
“They loved St. George back then,” she added. “The St. George Day festival was a big opportunity for the knights to parade in their armor and show it off.” Now both Terrence and Laurie were staring at her in surprise.
Jason said, “I think we should add that to the notes. Send that to me in an email, with cited sources.”
“Will do.” Surely, she could find a written source about it somewhere.
Jason seemed to be trying to put them at ease, which Emily could only take as a good sign. After he left, she spent the rest of the afternoon considering cleaning solutions for polychromed wood.
It was almost enough to take her mind off the worry that Griffin might be recognized by someone, after all…and her worries about her upcoming online chat with the lawyer.
Late in the afternoon, Emily went to the small meeting room she’d reserved just for that Zoom. She closed the door firmly behind her and wished it would lock.
When she’d been with Griffin on the Riverwalk, she’d told him this meeting was a work thing. Technically, it hadn’t been a lie. Besides, this meeting was just a precaution, and to set her parents’ minds at ease.
She’d half expected a man in a suit with leather-bound books in the background. But Steve, a silver-haired man with glasses, wore a Hawaiian shirt and was sitting on his back deck drinking an iced tea.
“I’ve got a half hour,” he said. “Anything we say here is confidential, so just tell me the truth. Karen tells me you were the one, uh, refurbishing the sculpture.”
He asked several questions about her work background, how long she’d been working at the museum, and whether she’d ever been arrested or accused of any crime before. “And what have you told law enforcement so far?”
“Nothing.”
He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Good. Tell me exactly what happened the day of the theft.”
Oh, boy. Maybe this had been a bad idea.
“Well, a little after ten thirty a.m., my friend Griffin came to visit me at the conservator labs.”
“This is the guy in the suit of armor you were making out with,” Steve said.
Emily felt the hot flush rise up to the roots of her hair.
“Yeah, they showed the TikTok on Fox News.”
Oh no. Griffin was even more famous than she thought. She never should’ve brought him back to the museum.
“How did your friend get into the labs?” Steve asked. “Those are restricted, right?”
“I…don’t know. I was in the photography room. Maybe someone else swiped him in.”
“Maybe you could ask him,” Steve suggested. “They said on the news that there was no security camera footage of your friend going in. Does that seem weird to you?”
“It does.” Weirder than you know . “But I had nothing to do with an art theft.”
Steve took a swig of his tea. “Have you known this Griffin long?”
“No, not long at all.”
“Where did you meet him?”
“At the museum.”
Steve set the glass down. “So he was a visitor there?”
“Yeah, he was…there for an exhibition.”
“And you would categorize your relationship as, what? Dating?”
“Yeah.” She’d better not leave it at that. “My parents don’t know this, but he’s moved in with me.”
Steve’s bushy eyebrows rose. “Do you know if this guy has a past?”
A strained laugh escaped her. He sure does .
“I mean, has he been involved in anything shady?”
Emily shook her head. “He’s probably the most honest person I know.”
She expected Steve to look skeptical, but he merely nodded and took another sip of beer. “Okay, million-dollar question: why was he wearing a suit of armor? Because between that detail and the fact that you were the last person to see the sculpture, it looks like…” He waved his bottle in the air. “Shenanigans.”
“He’s, um…He’s auditioning at Medieval Legends. He was getting used to moving around in armor.”
He stared at her for a beat. “The place with the sword fights? Eat baked potatoes with your hands?”
Emily nodded encouragingly.
“So he already auditioned?”
“No. He’s going soon.”
“Well, I guess it makes a little bit of sense,” he grumbled doubtfully.
She’d be relieved to have Griffin get that job for so many reasons. He needed to have friends and work of his own, and she figured Medieval Legends was the one place where he could really be himself. And if he worked there, so many things about his story, such as the TikTok video that apparently the whole world had seen, would seem more logical.
Steve asked several other questions. He encouraged her not to discuss the theft over the phone, email, or text, in case something could be taken out of context. If the FBI or the police visited her apartment, she shouldn’t let them in without a warrant, and if they asked her to step outside, she should decline. Gladly , Emily thought.
He shrugged. “But with a high-profile case like this, the FBI’s not going to make an arrest without a confession or real evidence. They don’t want to embarrass themselves.”
Emily thanked him profusely before they logged off the Zoom, feeling more at peace than she had since the moment she’d turned on the morning news about the supposed theft.
Then she called Griffin, feeling a wave of relief when he picked up and told her he was still in the medieval armor gallery. Once she met him down there, he was telling two boys about the finer points of swords, literally.
Emily and Griffin left the museum, crossed the street, and stepped into the crowded lobby of the Chicago Athletic Association building, which had been turned into a hotel. She took a moment to appreciate the black-and-white tile floor, the marble staircase, and the smells of grilled meats and garlic wafting from the ground floor restaurant.
She led him into the wooden-paneled elevator and they reached the rooftop bar. Its glass ceiling arched over well-dressed guests, like a greenhouse filled with flowers. Emily had been surprised that Rose had suggested the upscale restaurant for a happy hour, but it was hard to think of a nicer place for one. Rose had already texted Emily to say that she and Aaron were seated on the open terrace beyond, so Emily and Griffin made their way there.
Two different women stared appreciatively after Griffin as they passed. Well, a ball cap and a pair of glasses could only hide so much. The second one, who looked to be about Emily’s age, caught his eye.
He inclined his head gallantly. “Good evening, my lady.” She raised her eyebrows and gave a delighted smile.
Emily felt a tickle of familiar anxiety. This city was filled with beautiful, interesting, funny women. She had told herself many times that he’d soon realize that when it came to romance, he had almost limitless options…that she had good qualities, obviously, but in the end, there was nothing that made her truly special.
The fear didn’t have the same choke hold on her that it once had, though. It was hard not to feel special when Griffin was complimenting her all the time.
“Emily! Griffin!” Rose stood and waved from a far table. She was wearing a white dress and what looked like a turquoise pendant necklace, and she’d put her hair up. Emily raised her hand in response, and they went over to join her and the new guy, who also got to his feet.
“My lady Rose,” Griffin said warmly, and she gave him a quick hug.
“It’s Aaron, right?” Emily asked, holding her hand out to the politely smiling man. He stood maybe five-ten, and he wore a blazer over a T-shirt and jeans; exactly how she’d expect a VP at Sotheby’s to look, not that she’d ever seen one. “I’m Emily. I work at the museum with Rose.”
“Yes, I think I saw you before. Nice to meet you—”
“I am Griffin de Beauford, a friend to my lady Rose of Pilsen,” Griffin said, stepping forward, “and I hope you are courting her with honor and respect.”
Rose flushed, and Emily didn’t know whether to laugh or cringe.
Aaron didn’t miss a beat. “Of course,” he said sincerely. Rose was right; he did have a nice voice. “Good to meet you, Griffin.” He reached out his hand, looking Griffin in the eye.
Well, that wasn’t so bad. Maybe she should’ve prepared Griffin for socializing, but it wouldn’t feel right to tell a grown man how to talk and behave…how to fit in. People shouldn’t have to try so hard to fit in; especially wonderful people like Griffin.
At least she’d taught him how to shake hands. As he shook Aaron’s, his gaze wandered toward the horizon, and he went a little pale. “I did not know we’d ascended so high.”
Aaron tilted his head. “Where are you from, Griffin, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“A distant island,” he replied. Rose shot Emily a wry look.
“What part?” Aaron asked pleasantly. “I’m pretty well traveled. I might’ve been there before.”
Griffin gave him an ironic smile. “Sir, you have not.” He peered down at the buildings and the lake below. “I suppose it must be safe.”
“It is,” Emily reassured him. “Let’s sit down.” He obeyed, and the rest of them took their seats, too, but Griffin couldn’t stop staring out at the spectacular view. Hundreds of lights twinkled below them in the blue twilight.
“Um, can I get you two some drinks?”
Emily turned to see the server looking from her to Griffin. “Yes, I’ll have a glass of rosé,” she said.
“An ale for me, good woman,” Griffin said, “but not bitter, if you please.” Emily regretted bringing home the IPA for him, but she’d never been a beer drinker, and Tom had always drunk IPAs. Griffin had told her, politely, that it tasted like bile.
The server’s brow knitted, and she pointed to the neglected menu on the table. “We have several ales.”
“You might like Dovetail lager,” Aaron suggested to Griffin. “It’s made here in Chicago.”
“I will have that, then.”
“Make it two,” Aaron said easily. “And let’s get some appetizers. Rose—you love avocados. Avocado toast with goat cheese?”
She beamed. “Um, that sounds great.”
Aaron told the server, “Two of those, the smoked salmon dip, and one order of the fried potatoes.” He glanced around at them. “Anything else?” He flashed a self-deprecating smile. “It’s on me, so go nuts.” As they shook their heads, he added to the server, “Hey, extra pistachios on the avocado toast, please.” She nodded as she retreated.
Griffin had gotten out of his seat again and had wandered closer to the edge of the balcony. She couldn’t exactly tell him to sit down, could she? She’d sound like his mom.
“My friends, what is that strange thing?” he asked, looking back at them. “?’Tis like a giant raindrop wrought of silver.”
Emily gave a ridiculous little gasp. “You didn’t see it before!” Major tour guide fail.
Aaron got up and went over to Griffin, gazing down along with him. “That, my friend, is one of the most famous sights in Chicago. It’s a steel sculpture. Everyone calls it The Bean.”
“I marvel that a thing so large and so smooth could be made of steel.”
“It wasn’t easy,” Aaron said. “We’re very proud of it.”
Aaron clapped Griffin on the shoulder—and Emily’s heart squeezed to see it. Griffin had told her that when he’d been a statue, he’d treasured even the most incidental of human touches. Aaron wasn’t acting as though Griffin was odd. She exchanged an approving glance with Rose as Aaron sat down next to her again.
The server returned with the drinks, and Griffin sat down, too. Aaron held up his glass. “May we live all the days of our lives.”
“Yes!” Griffin said, a little too loudly. They all clinked glasses. Rose’s eyes sparkled.
Okay, that was smooth of Aaron, Emily thought. Maybe she’d steal that toast. He made her feel like they were out with a proper grown-up, which made no sense. She was thirty-four, for God’s sake. In Griffin’s time, she would’ve been a matron.
“Rose said she met you at the food trucks by the museum,” Emily said to Aaron.
He chuckled. “That’s right. It was the first time I ever asked a complete stranger out on a date.”
Rose’s mouth formed an astonished O. “Really?”
He gave her a sheepish look and a shrug, and then went on, “I follow the Art Institute social media accounts, so I recognized her from a couple of interviews. And she was standing there, so pretty in her Stevie Nicks dress…” Rose beamed. “We started talking, and I couldn’t help myself.” His cheeks and the tips of his ears flushed.
That was adorable. Still, a jarring thought crossed Emily’s mind. What if he was married? She was probably being paranoid, after being married to a cheater. But he looked married.
She asked, “So have you always been single, or…?”
“No, my wife and I broke up. I mean, I’m divorced,” he said, as though admitting something embarrassing. “I have been for a few years now.”
Rose gave a nervous laugh. “We don’t have to cross-examine him.”
“It’s fine,” Aaron said to her. “It didn’t come up the other day.” His expression told Emily that he knew exactly what this was: a group interview for the position of being Rose’s boyfriend. But so far, she’d have to say he was killing it.
“I’m divorced, too,” Emily offered. “Pretty recently.”
Griffin’s arm went around her shoulders. Warmth spread through her. Maybe part of it was the wine. But being divorced had made her feel like a failure and a cliché, even though she knew, on an intellectual level, how antiquated and ridiculous that was. And Griffin chased away those feelings.
“Sorry to hear,” Aaron said.
“I don’t know if I am,” she quipped. “So you work at Sotheby’s? It’s a pretty small office here in Chicago, right?”
“It is, but I work for the New York office. I used to be a private art dealer here, and I started working remotely with them during the pandemic. It just stayed that way.” He shrugged.
“Are a lot of your old clients here?” Rose asked.
He shook his head. “Most of my clients are international. One of them was texting me the other day about the theft here at the museum. I bet all your coworkers are freaking out about that.”
The back of Emily’s neck prickled. Before she could stop herself, she darted a look at Griffin, just as his smile faded.
“Well, it’s been crazy,” she said, picking up her wineglass again. “I mean, it’s not the first time anything’s been stolen from the museum, of course.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah, in the 1970s three Cézannes were stolen. We got them back, though.”
Aaron snapped his fingers. “Oh, yeah, I heard about that. Who stole them?”
“It was someone in packing and shipping.”
The server arrived with plates of pistachio-crusted avocado toast, smoked salmon dip with little golden toasts, and fried potatoes drizzled with a garlicky sauce.
“Okay, we’re going to need one more of those,” Aaron said, pointing at the potatoes, and then asked Rose, “Another glass of wine?” She barely had the chance to nod before he said, “Another glass of the sauvignon blanc.” As the server retreated, Aaron added to Griffin, holding up his own glass, “How do you like the lager?”
Griffin smiled. “?’Tis fit for a king.”
Aaron took another drink himself. “My dad always makes fun of me for drinking craft beer. When I was growing up, he always came home from the tractor factory and had a Michelob.”
Rose did a double take. “Wait. You mean Caterpillar?”
Aaron nodded. “I grew up in Peoria.” Emily had never been there, even though it was less than three hours south.
“You didn’t strike me as a Peoria guy,” Rose said.
“Don’t be a snob,” Aaron teased.
“I’m not!” Rose exclaimed. “My dad worked for Caterpillar, too. But there was a layoff, when I was in third grade, and, um, he died after that.”
“Oh no,” Emily said, at the same time that Aaron said, “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. That’s when we moved to Cicero.”
“Does your mom still live there?”
“Um, no.” Rose’s brow knitted. “She, she died a few years ago.”
Emily’s heart went out to Rose. It must’ve been so hard to lose both parents, both too soon. Emily was so lucky that her parents’ biggest concerns were knee surgery and becoming grandparents someday.
They didn’t even know she was living with a man now. What would they think? He was the opposite of the kind of normal, stable, insurance-selling guy they’d recommended.
“I’m sorry,” Aaron said. “Why did you all move to Cicero? Do you have other family here?”
Rose shook her head. “She got a job at a factory, but it closed when they went overseas.”
“That’s bullshit,” Aaron declared. “See, this is why people steal art.” Emily had to smile. Not that she approved of art theft, obviously. She was probably more against it than most people. But it was just a joke.
Aaron pursed his lips thoughtfully. “You know, compared to the Cézannes, the sculpture isn’t that big of a deal. The museum had just bought it.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t culturally significant.”
Emily sat up a little straighter in her seat. “It was an amazing piece.” She should really change the subject, but she couldn’t help herself. “If it hadn’t gone missing, it would’ve been one of the most beloved pieces in the collection.”
“Really, you think so?” Aaron’s voice was curious rather than challenging.
Emily glanced at Griffin again. “It had that certain something that only a few pieces of art do.”
“You saw it up close?”
He didn’t know, then. Oh, well. Rose would’ve told him sooner or later, anyway. “I worked on it. The detail was incredible. And it had a very clear provenance.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s still worth a fortune.” He shrugged. “Of course, it would’ve been covered by the museum insurance. And I almost feel like the thieves deserve a big payday.”
“Why?” Emily’s voice came out at a higher pitch than she’d intended.
“This is the greatest art theft in all of human history. The size of the statue. The fact that it was taken from a major museum in broad daylight. The thieves had to be brilliant . The theft is almost a work of art unto itself.” He took a bite of fried potato. “It’s got to be earmarked for an overseas buyer. I just wonder if they’re getting enough for it.” He gave a wry smile. “To be honest, my client in Greece was texting me to say he’d pay several million dollars for it.”
“Oh my God,” Emily murmured.
Griffin frowned and leaned forward. “Have you sold other stolen goods to this friend?”
Good question , Emily couldn’t help but think. But also a pretty insulting one. Rose shot a worried look in Aaron’s direction.
Something flickered in Aaron’s eyes. “Not as far as I know.” Emily’s hackles went up. But in the next breath, he said, “I always do my due diligence. But even great museums have been known to make questionable acquisitions.”
“That’s true,” Emily admitted. Art authentication wasn’t an exact science.
Aaron shrugged. “Enough talk about work. Rose, I want to know more about you.”
He asked her questions and listened attentively, making flattering comments here and there. When Rose talked about where she’d gone to college, it prompted Griffin to ask Emily quietly about her own education. She told him about dorm rooms and frat parties; since Aaron seemed completely wrapped up in whatever Rose was saying, Griffin told Emily about Latin tutors and his year at Oxford. But when Rose started talking about more arcane subjects, it got their attention again.
“One of my favorite things is my chrysocolla necklace. It helps you exude your goddess energy,” she was explaining to Aaron, gesturing gracefully.
Griffin asked, “And why do you not wear it every day, my lady?”
Rose hesitated, and Aaron said lightly, “I don’t know if the world could handle your goddess energy on a regular basis.”
Rose’s eyes sparkled. “But if you wear it sometimes, it helps you attract the right people.”
“Were you wearing it when I met you?”
“I was, actually.”
How strange that a short time ago, Emily had rolled her eyes inwardly at Rose’s talk about the metaphysical powers of stones. Seeing a stone turn into a person right in front of one’s eyes made it hard for a person to remain a skeptic. And Emily had been holding the malachite Rose had given her when she’d kissed Griffin.
A minute later, Rose said, “Emily, do you know where the ladies’ room is?”
“Yeah, I’ll go with you.” Emily had no idea where it was, but she guessed that Rose wanted to talk about Aaron. She didn’t have to worry about abandoning Griffin. If Aaron found Griffin’s my lady -ing and so on strange, he was too polite to say anything about it. Between Aaron’s easy social skills and Griffin’s outgoing nature, they seemed to get along fine.
As soon as the restroom door closed behind them, Rose turned to her, “He seems good, right? I’ve had some bad experiences. Like last year with this guy, Jake the Snake.” She shook her head.
Emily couldn’t help it. “His name was Jake the Snake, and that wasn’t a red flag?”
“People called him that because he had five pet snakes.”
For Emily, that also might’ve been a red flag, but Rose was open-minded. It was one of the things Emily had already come to appreciate about her.
“Well, Aaron’s no Jake the Snake,” she told Rose.
Rose narrowed her eyes in thought. “But does he seem…off? Maybe too perfect?”
“Is there such a thing?”
“Of course, you don’t think so, with your knight in shining armor.”
Emily’s stomach twisted in a little knot. Rose’s date with Aaron was solid— real . Her affair, or whatever she should call it, with Griffin, still felt fragile. She felt like a conservator of it, too; fearful of exposing it to the grime of too much reality.
They stepped back out onto the rooftop. The twilight had given way to black velvet night, the city lights glittering like stolen diamonds. She was in her city, the one she’d always loved, on a perfect night with new friends, and the whole summer ahead of her.
As they walked back to their table, Griffin was leaning forward in his seat as he spoke to Aaron, who was on the edge of his seat himself, nodding seriously, and not breaking eye contact with him. What in the world? Maybe the guys were talking about them . That would only be fair.
Griffin looked up and met her gaze, and the corners of his lips turned up in a roguish smile.
Maybe this was a dream she’d wake up from, just like she had the first time she’d met him, but before she did, she was going to enjoy every minute of it.