When Day Breaks by Mary Jane Clark

everything else with you, Mack?”
    “Okay, I guess.”
    “Are you enjoying living in London?”
    “Yeah. It’s great. But I can tell I’ll be ready to come back home when my overseas stint is finished.”
    “Have any idea when that will be?” she asked.
    “I still have another six months on my contract,” he answered. “Then we’ll see where I go and what I do.”
    Eliza looked at him quizzically. “You aren’t thinking of leaving KEY News, are you?” she asked.
    Mack looked down at his shoes. “I’ve had a lot of time to think over there, Eliza. I’ve been thinking about life and what I want from it. Professionally I’m not totally certain about what I want.” He raised his head and looked directly into her eyes. “But personally there is one thing that I’m always sure of.”
    Eliza felt her pulse quicken. She wasn’t ready for this conversation. Not now. Part of her wanted to put her arms around him and hold on to him. The other part of her wanted to run away from him. She chose the flight response.
    Looking at her tank watch, she made an excuse about having to attend to something for the broadcast. She left Mack standing in the hallway watching after her as she fled into her office.

CHAPTER 20
     
    A s the Saturday-afternoon visitors were milling through the halls of the Cloisters, Rowena sat in her office. She listened intently as the head of security questioned the man who had stood guard while Stuart Whitaker and Constance Young took their private tour.
    “Were you with them every moment?” the security chief asked.
    “Yes.”
    “You never left their sides?”
    “No, sir.”
    “You know, Jerry, sooner or later the truth always comes out. There are pictures of a national news anchorwoman wearing what looks to be a piece that we’re depending on for our new exhibit. Now that woman is dead. Don’t you think that when the police are told that the unicorn amulet is missing from the Cloisters and they look at the images of Constance Young wearing just such a piece right before she died—don’t you think the police will be up here to investigate?”
    “Probably.”
    “Well?”
    “There aren’t any video cameras in the area where the unicorn was kept,” said Jerry.
    “And that means you think no one will be able to figure out who took it?” asked the security chief. “Don’t kid yourself, Jerry. Something will give it away, and if you know anything, it’ll be a helluva lot better if you share it now.”
    Jerry squirmed in his chair.
    “If I find out you know something, Jerry, not only will you be fired, I’ll see to it that you never get another security job.”
    Jerry’s shoulders sagged. “Okay, okay. Mr. Whitaker pressed a hundred-dollar bill into my hand and told me to go outside for a smoke. I just thought he wanted to be alone with her in there for a little while. Who wouldn’t want to be alone with a babe like that, especially a nerdy guy like him? I thought, what the heck? Whitaker has given millions to this place. Why would he take something from it?”
    Rowena interrupted. “We don’t know that Stuart Whitaker took the amulet, Chief. Maybe someone else did.”
    “What? You think Constance Young took the amulet?” the head of security asked.
    “I don’t know what to think,” said Rowena. “But even though I hate to have the museum exposed to negative publicity, I do know it’s time to call the police. There’s no other choice.”

CHAPTER 21
     
    A string of vans, cars, and satellite trucks with New York press plates lined the road in front of Constance Young’s country house. With each addition of a rival news organization, Lauren Adams grew more tense.
    “We don’t have enough,” she complained, snapping her gum. “We should have the very best access, but we’re stuck out here just like every other network or station. We don’t have anything that will separate our coverage at Constance Young’s house from our competition’s, and that’s just crap.