Page 61 of Under Arthur’s Protection

He walked with me to the windows and took up sentry duty.

I stared at Rachel Tenney’s name on my phone screen. She’d studied at Leeds with me, and we’d stayed in touch after our doctorates. She’d moved to London for an amazing job, while I went off to the Marlcombe Collection and fell for Lionel.

One visit. She came once, met Lionel, and had me out in the corridor at the first break in conversation. She’d warned me not to get involved with him, and I had to confess to her that I already was. After the whole publishing fiasco, I’d left my job and crashed on her couch for a week before deciding to move back to the States.

And I’d barely talked to her since. I was too embarrassed to face her after running away with my tail between my legs.

But she had the access I needed now. So I took a deep breath and tapped her number.

“Gwen! Oh my god!” Rachel squealed, making it clear I’d been an idiot for hesitating to call her. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. I’m great, honestly. I’m in France.”

“France! What are you doing in France?”

“I’m sorry for calling you out of the blue, but…” I walked back toward my seat, so I wouldn’t bother the other researchers. “I’m working on this authentication project, and I was wondering… Are you still at the British Archives?”

“National Archives, sweetie. But yes, still here, still cataloging things nobody will look at for another fifty years, and still loving every second of it.” She laughed. “What do you need?”

“Anything you can find on a collector named Sir Edmund Hargrove of Hertfordshire. Mid to late eighteenth century. I’ve found a document referencing him as the owner of a sword I’m authenticating, and I want to verify his collection is in the record.”

“Hargrove. Hertfordshire. Eighteenth century.” The sound of a keyboard clacking came from her end. “I can check the usual databases and a few of the estate catalogs. Give me an hour?”

“That would be perfect. Thanks, Rachel.”

“Of course. But listen, you’re not living in France now, are you?”

“No, I like New York. This is for a short contract.”

“Excellent! I’m heading to New York next year for a conference and was planning to ring you up. We need to go out for drinks when I’m in town.”

“It’ll be good to see you again.” I smiled and ended the call. Rachel had been the old me’s best friend. Reconnecting with her was probably what I needed in my life.

Arthur remained at the window. It was odd the way he’d stayed after I’d left, instead of tracking my every movement. But that was Arthur. No doubt something very dangerous was lurking in the grass. Maybe a garter snake. Or a shadow he didn’t like.

I sat and turned on my laptop, mulling over how I’d word this discovery in my report.

Chapter 20

Arthur

The man in the blue ballcap was back. I’d clocked him on the way in, sitting in a sedan in the parking lot with the engine off and his window down. Not reading, not on his phone, just sitting. When I’d held the glass door open for Gwen to go inside, I’d watched him in the reflection. That was the moment he’d gotten out.

Not suspicious, but one more thing to add to my mental inventory.

Except he’d been walking on the paths behind the building when we settled in, and he was now on another, heading south at a leisurely pace. Two sightings weren’t enough to act on, but more than enough to pay attention. Particularly since he glanced in our general direction every couple of minutes. Plus, the afternoon air was crisp, which didn’t preclude a stroll, but it suited power walkers or joggers better.

Behind me, Gwen had finished her hushed phone call and settled into her work.

The man disappeared beyond the tree line. The paths sat empty.

One minute. Two minutes. Five. Ten.

He didn’t reappear.

Was I imagining this? Had things been quiet so long I was craving danger? Searching for tangos where there were none? I needed a second opinion.

I crossed the room to Gwen’s table and kept my voice low. “How’s the research going?”