What was it Evie said?
Always trust your gut. It’s never wrong.
Her gut was telling her something was off about Bruce. It was a feeling she had never had about him. Until now.
“Someone cut the cameras. Likely that someone was one of the intruders.” His voice was dead calm as he said it. Then he glanced around the flat. “Where’s Evie?”
She sprang to her feet and paced the small area in front of the sofa. Tears threatened again. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“She disappeared. I don’t know where she is. She never came out of the museum.”
He stared at her in silence, his face devoid of emotion. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry, Chloe.”
She spread her hands in defeat. “I don’t know what to do.”
Bruce got to his feet and walked over to her, wrapping her in his arms once again. The odd sensation that something was wrong dissipated. It was stress and worry making her question everything. He kissed her forehead.
“I should have been there,” he said, the guilt lacing his tone.
But he had had a gig at the pub and wasn’t able to make it. She understood, of course. She had been elated Evie was with her. Now, she was missing.
“Where could she be?”
“Ye need to get some rest, lass. In the morn, file a missing persons report. I’ll go with ye, if ye like.”
“Yes, please.”
He walked her to the bedroom where she kicked off her shoes. She sank onto the bed, still dressed in her evening gown and clutching his hand.
“Stay with me tonight?” she asked. “I don’t want to be alone.”
He brushed the back of his hand over her cheek. A faint smile flickered over his face. “All right. Rest, now. I’ll make ye some tea.”
When he left the room, she kicked off her shoes and curled on her side, still dressed. But it wasn’t long before exhaustion took over and she was fast asleep.
***
Bruce MacDonald returned to the bedroom, a steaming mug in his hand. Chloe, though, had fallen asleep. He placed the mug on her bedside table and then did a cursory glance around the room, looking for anything out of place or different. He took long, slow, quiet steps through the room, examining the top of her dresser, the bedside tables, the top of her chest. He kept his hands clasped behind his back to keep from disturbing anything.
When his search turned up nothing, he stepped out of the room and slipped his phone from his pocket to make a call.
“Well?” John, his brother, answered in a terse tone.
“She doesn’t know anything,” Bruce said.
As he stood outside her bedroom door speaking in a hushed voice, he saw it then. The blue velvet bag rested on the coffee table next to Evie’s black handbag.
“I did find something interesting. The bag.”
He walked over to the table as he spoke and picked up the bag. There was nothing in it.
“No stone?” he asked.
“It’s empty. I’m telling you, the lass disappeared before my own eyes. She used the keystone.”
He had chased her up the stairs and almost caught her, but the lass had kicked him in the head. It still throbbed. She had scrambled up the stairs to the second level where he found her hiding behind a samurai statue with her hand clutched into atight fist. He had been certain she had the keystone. Plus, he had heard the humming coming from the small thing.
