A/N: Thanks so much for the feedback Leya and Virtute! I really appreciate it and I'm glad you enjoyed Collig. He's a favorite of mine. Crusty, but underneath it all, I think he's probably a teddy bear. Also, just to note, the legends and artifacts mentioned in the story are real. If anyone wants a link to learn more about them, let me know, I'll be happy to send it to you. Thanks again to all who are reading!

Chapter 6

"Wait a minute," Joe said, a grin spreading over his face as he picked up his paper bag from the counter of the fast food restaurant. "Collig asked for our help?"

"Yeah," Frank said, easing himself into one of the molded plastic seats in the dining area and reaching inside his sack for some French fries. "To say I was shocked was an understatement."

"I wish I could have seen his face when he told you." Joe took a sip of his drink. "How did he look?"

"Constipated," Frank said with a laugh.

"I'll bet," Joe chuckled. He opened a ketchup packet and squirted it on his open cheeseburger wrapper. "Did you learn anything important at the station?"

Frank nodded as he took a large bite of his burger. "Yeah, there's an eight minute blank spot on the surveillance tapes."

"What? You're kidding."

"I'm not. And in the footage that the museum did have...Ayres is nowhere in sight."

"You do think he was killed there, don't you?"

"Yeah, there's no footage of him leaving, and all the exits have cameras on them."

Joe jammed some fries into his ketchup puddle, a thoughtful expression on his face. "So, whoever did this either knew how to disable the cameras, or went back and erased the tapes after the murder."

Frank nodded. "I wonder if you could tell which one it was by how the tapes look when they're played back? I think I'll go visit Steve at Bayport Camera while you talk to Emily again."

"Sounds good," Joe said. "Stop by the museum when you're done. There are a few more things I want to check out."

"You mean besides Emily," Frank smirked.

Joe rolled his eyes as he reached for the last of Frank's French fries. "Yeah, besides Emily."

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

Promptly at two o'clock, Joe entered the art museum, and strolled over to the front desk where Emily was talking on the phone. She smiled at him as he approached, and held up her hand to let him know she'd be finished momentarily. As she hung up, she looked at Joe. "Where's your brother?"

"He, um, he had to go downtown and do some investigating. He met with Chief Collig this morning while I was doing some more research at the library, and he actually wants us working on this case in an official capacity," he said with a grin.

Emily cocked her head. "Is there something funny about that?"

"You have no idea," he replied, leaning against the marble countertop.

"Okay, well, if you still have questions for me, I'm available. We won't be bothered in my office." She stepped around to the front of the large desk. "Is that all right?"

"Sure." Joe followed her as she descended the stairs to the lower level of the museum, mesmerized by the slight sway of her hips as she walked.

"I'm sorry. It's not the most comfortable place, but it is quiet." She paused before her door and smiled at him as she inserted her key into the lock. "Nobody comes down to the dungeon." She opened the door and gasped.

Emily's office had been ransacked. The desk was wiped clean; the drawers pulled out and overturned onto the floor. The filing cabinet was lying on its side, every file emptied of its contents and scattered across the room. The books on the bookshelves had been tossed on top of the pile haphazardly. And, resting innocently on top of it all, was a single pink rose.

"Wh,-what on earth?" she stammered.

Joe pushed by her and surveyed the wreckage. "Damn," he said. Emily tried to squeeze past him, but he grabbed her arm. "No, don't. The police need to see this."

"But, why?" She looked around the room, bewildered. "Why would anyone do this?"

Joe shook his head. "I don't know, but I'm going to find out. Come with me, I need to make some phone calls."

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

Emily was standing outside her office with Joe while Frank, who'd brought along a camera from the police department, was inside her office, snapping pictures of the crime scene. Joe watched her carefully. Her eyes were huge, and she was hugging herself with both arms as though she couldn't get warm. When she stepped away from the wall and began pacing back and forth, Joe went over to her side. "Hey," he said softly.

She paused and looked up at him, the mixture of fear and confusion in her eyes tugging at his heart. What he really wanted to do was hold her, but would she let him? Would she think he was trying to take advantage of her? Crossing a line that shouldn't be crossed? Joe hesitated. "Are you okay? Do you want to go somewhere else?"

"No," she replied, her voice wavering. "I'm not okay." Her eyes were watery when she looked at Joe. "Help me understand what's happening here. This is an art museum for heaven's sake."

Now the urge to take her in his arms was overwhelming. He took a step closer, reached out and ran his hand up and down her back in a comforting gesture. "All I can say is that Frank and I will get to the bottom of this. I promise."

Emily nodded and gave Joe a tiny smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said, moving even closer to her. "Are you sure you don't want to go upstairs? Maybe get a drink of water?"

She shook her head and Joe inhaled her scent. Clean, floral and very feminine. It was making him crazy. He tentatively put his arm around her shoulders. She didn't push him away. "Joe?"

"Hmm?" he asked.

"What does this mean? Why would someone break into my office? I'm a nobody around here."

"That's what we're going to try and figure out once Frank is finished taking photos."

"I've always loved this place, but now..."

She shivered and he tightened his hold on her, pulling her into his side, her soft body molding against his. Damn it, she's shaking.

"Okay, I think I'm about finished," Frank announced, cutting through Joe's testosterone haze and snapping him back into his detective mode.

"Do you want to wait here while Frank and I take a look at your office?" Joe tried to make his voice sound calm and reassuring.

Emily's eyes widened. "N-no. I don't want to stay out here by myself."

"Okay." He squeezed her shoulder. "You don't have to." He walked her into the small room and felt Emily sag against him, overwhelmed by the sight in front of her.

Frank righted a metal chair that had been thrown to the floor. "Emily, why don't you sit down?"

She gave a small nod and sat in the folding chair. Joe watched her eyes moving from one damaged item to the other. She stopped when she saw the pink rose. "That's not mine."

"What?" Joe turned to look at the flower.

"It's not mine. I don't know where it came from."

Joe exchanged glances with Frank over her head.

"You didn't have this sitting on your desk?" Joe clarified. "In a vase or something?"

"No, I've never seen it before."

Frank finished snapping on a pair of latex gloves, picked up the rose and deposited it into an evidence bag. He and Joe worked thoroughly, still trying to go as quickly as possible. Joe paused after a few moments and handed Emily an art book. "It looks like this got wet. Probably from that water bottle." He pointed to a plastic bottle on the floor. "For some reason, whoever did this felt like he needed to open it and pour it over everything."

Emily took the book, tears glistening in her eyes. "This is from Paris." She turned the sodden, smeared pages. "It can't be replaced."

Joe felt a surge of some emotion he couldn't identify washing over him. She looked so small and vulnerable and she was trying so hard not to fall apart. He knelt down in front of her. "I promise you, we'll get this guy. He's not going to get away with this."

She nodded and quickly brushed away the tears that threatened to spill onto her cheeks. "I think I just want to go home now, if that's okay. Unless you still want me to answer those questions you had for me."

"We can do that another day. If you wait just a minute, I'll take you."

"No, that's all right." She stood shakily and set her book on the metal chair. "Stacey was going to meet me here after her last class." She looked toward the wall where a clock used to hang and sighed. "She'll be here at three-thirty."

Joe glanced at his watch. "It's three-twenty right now."

He watched as Emily scanned the room, her brow furrowing. "Why didn't he take my purse?" she asked. Joe noticed it sat in the corner, oddly undisturbed.

Frank followed the direction of her gaze. "Emily, I think you've just discovered a major clue."

"How is not taking my purse a clue?" she asked, puzzled as she walked over to it.

"Whoever broke in here wasn't trying to rob you," Frank said. He watched while she checked the contents of her bag. "Anything missing?"

"Nothing." She held up her wallet. "All my money is still here."

"My guess is that he's after something else you have," Joe said.

"But that's just it," she protested. "I don't have anything important. At least nothing that half the other employees here don't have, too. No artifacts, no documents, no combination to the safe, nothing."

Joe looked at all the papers scattered across the room from her filing cabinet. "Would you know if something were taken from any of these folders?"

She sighed. "Maybe if an entire file were gone, but probably not if it was just one piece of paper that was missing. The thing is...this isn't just my stuff. These files have information stored by lots of interns who worked here before me."

"Yeah," Frank agreed. "We might not be able to figure out exactly what this guy was after from what's left here."

"I can try to put it all back together again, but I'm not sure I'm up to it right now." She paused. "If it's crucial that I stay, I will though."

Joe smiled at her. He could tell how shaken up she was even though she was putting up a brave front. "No, you've had a very rough two days. Let me walk you up to the lobby. Then you go home and get some rest."

"I doubt I'll be able to do that," she sighed.

"Do you want me to come to your house for awhile?" he asked. "I could sleep on the couch tonight if it would make you feel better."

She shook her head. "No, but thank you for being so sweet. I'll just call Eric. I'm sure he'll be happy to do it."

Joe flinched a little. "Eric. Okay."

A loud gasp was heard near the doorway as Emily's roommate, Stacey, peered inside. "What in the world happened here?"

Emily slung her purse over her shoulder as she stepped over the debris to reach the door. "I'll explain it on the way home. Right now I just want to get out of here." She turned back to smile at Frank and Joe. "Thank you both so much. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been here."

"You're welcome," Frank said, returning the smile.

Joe nodded curtly in her direction then turned back to the mess.

"Thanks again," Emily said as she walked away with Stacey, whose jaw was still hanging open.

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

"Theories?" Frank asked his brother as they continued to comb through the destruction that was Emily's office.

"Not a burglary. After something very specific," Joe sighed. "The question is...what?"

Frank picked up a file and began perusing its contents. "You know, Joe, there is one thing that's bugging me."

"The rose," Joe said flatly.

"Yeah," Frank nodded. "The rose. That raises all kinds of implications."

"Psycho stalker, murderer trying to prove his 'love' for Emily–"

"You think this is related to the murder?" Frank interrupted.

"Don't you?"

Before Frank could reply, Duncan MacLean and a museum security guard burst through the office door. "What the hell?" Duncan's voice was a mixture of disbelief and outrage.

"Wow." The security guard whistled through his teeth. "This guy was thorough."

"So it would seem," Frank said, by way of a greeting.

Joe turned to the guard. "So..." he paused to read his nametag, "Mitch? You didn't happen to catch anyone coming down here on your cameras, did you?"

He shook his head, still staring at the chaos around him. "No cameras down here."

"Of course," Joe muttered.

"What about the cameras by the stairwell?" Frank spoke up.

"Yeah, we could look at those. Problem is there are two other sets of stairs leading down here, plus the elevator."

Frank sighed. "Well, it's a place to start."

Duncan ran his hand through his hair. "What is all this about? Why Emily? What could she possibly have done to warrant...this?" He gestured at the mess.

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Joe said. "Did you see anybody unusual down here today? Someone who wasn't supposed to be?"

"No. I'm hardly ever down here though. My office is on the third floor." He looked towards the security guard. "Mitch, get all your men who were on duty since this morning. If they've gone home, call them back. Somebody must have seen something."

Mitch nodded and disappeared. Duncan stared around the room and then paled.

"What?" Joe asked.

He pointed to an object sitting near a pile of papers. "Where did that come from?"

Joe walked over and bent down to retrieve it. "What? This? It looks like a piece of crystal."

"Dinnae touch it!" Duncan shouted, his Scottish brogue becoming very pronounced.

"Why?" Joe moved towards him holding the object.

"It's a sign of the curse." Duncan backed away from Joe. "It shouldn't be here. It was locked up with the other artifacts that arrived today."

"Well, maybe Emily brought it here to catalog it, or whatever it is you do with this art stuff."

Duncan shook his head. "She doesn't even know the artifacts have arrived. I didn't have a chance to tell her with all the debriefings the university's made me attend." His eyes were wide as he looked at Joe. "It found her. She is cursed and now you are, too. You are in great danger, Mr. Hardy."