“I’m fine,” she said at last.
She didn’t spare him another glance, her focus fixed on the path ahead. Hands buried in her pockets once again, she quickened her pace, the museum looming closer with every step. Once she got there, she’d find the director and get answers about Chloe.
The Tower entrance welcomed her with its heavy doors and the faint hum of activity inside. Her gaze swept the space until it landed on the information desk—a logical starting point. She approached with purpose, her nerves humming in concert with the stone in her pocket. Behind the desk, a young woman greeted visitors with a polished smile, her nameplate declaring her role as Visitor Experience Assistant. The name tag pinned neatly to her blouse readAlex.
“Hi, Alex. I was hoping to speak to your director about an urgent matter,” Brianna said.
“I can see if she’s available.” The girl picked up the phone and dialed. After a moment, she spoke with someone—who seemed to be the director’s assistant—and then hung up. “I’m sorry she’s not available.”
“My name is Brianna Sinclair. I’m Chloe Sinclair’s sister. My sister is missing.” When her statement was met with a blank stare, Brianna added, “My sister who works here. Tell her that.”
With reluctance and annoyance flickering over her face, Alex picked up the phone again and dialed. She relayed the information to the other party and then cast a nervous glance at Brianna.
When she hung up, she said, “The director said she could spare a few minutes.”
“Thank you.”
Brianna moved off to the side to allow the other patrons of the museum to book their tours and buy their tickets. It wasn’t long before a youngwoman arrived.
“Miss Sinclair, I’m Jane, the director’s assistant. I’ll take you to her office if you’ll follow me.”
Brianna fell in step behind Jane, who led her through the museum to an office with the door slightly ajar. Jane gave a quick rap and then pushed it open and stood aside.
The museum director’s office was a blend of antique charm and professional austerity. Bookshelves stuffed with historical volumes and dusty artifacts lined one wall. An oversized wood desk was in the center. Behind it, a polished woman in her late fifties with sharp eyes and salt-and-pepper hair rose to her feet. The moment she saw Brianna she came around the desk and extended her hand.
“Miss Sinclair, I’m Director Greaves. Please have a seat. Would you like tea or water?”
“No, thanks.” Brianna took the chair in front of the desk.
“That will be all, Jane.” Director Greaves slipped behind the desk and eased down into her leather executive chair, lacing her fingers and placing her hands on the desk in front of her. “I’m sorry about your sister. It’s been quite a shock to all of us.”
“Thank you. I admit it’s been a shock to me, too. I don’t want to take much of your time, but I would like to know everything that happened the night of the gala,” Brianna said, cutting right to the chase. “I understand there was an incident?”
The director’s expression changed from concern to sorrow.
“A horrible night, that. Aye, there was an invasion. They came in and forced everyone on the ground. One of the men seemed particularly interested in one of the guests. Your other sister, I believe.”
Her breath caught. So, Eviewashere with Chloe that night.
“Evie,” Brianna said, her voice weak.
The woman nodded. “Yes, I met her briefly. She was visiting for the gala. I seem to recall one of the men chased her up the stairs to the second level.”
Alarm pounded through her. “Why?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. As far as I know, the police never found the men or the motive to the attack.”
“No?” Brianna asked. Hope bloomed in her breast. Maybe Evie was hiding out somewhere in the city. “Did they find Evie?”
“Not that I know of. They’ve had no leads. The strangest thing of all was nothing was stolen. Then a few days later, Chloe went missing,” Director Greaves said.
“Do you have any other information you can share with me?” Brianna asked, hope rising in her chest. “Anything at all about Chloe or Evie.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t. I do sympathize with your situation, Miss Sinclair, but as I told the authorities, Chloe’s disappearance has nothing to do with the museum. It’s a personal matter. I suggest you let the police handle it.”
Not to mention Evie’s disappearance. Why would the invader chase her up the stairs? Why her and no one else? Brianna didn’t like how the woman had suddenly turned aloof.
“A personal matter? The museum was invaded, Evie is missing, and Chloe’s flat was broken into. You don’t think all that’s connected?”
