A/N: Thanks for the review, Virtute! Yeah, Joe's kind of messed things up a bit right now. Of course, at the moment...he has bigger problems. LOL Glad you liked the cliffie. Thanks again to everyone reading! :-)
Chapter 13
Joe couldn't hear Emily's voice in the pandemonium. Damn it, where is she? Please, please don't let her be hurt. Please. He continued moving in the direction of her table. He shouted her name again as loudly as he could, and then he heard it. An anxious call answering his.
"Joe?"
He scrambled toward the sound of her voice. "Emily, where are you?"
"Joe? Is that you?"
She sounded closer. And panicked.
"Keep talking, Em. I can't see anything."
"I'm down here."
Her voice was coming from below him. He knelt down and felt her hands grasping for him. "Joe?"
He reached out for her and pulled her into him, relief washing over him. "Thank God," he whispered. "Are you okay?"
"Y-yes. I think so."
He scooted under the nearby table, taking her with him. "Frank went to find the breaker. Hopefully the lights will be up soon."
"I-I need to try and find Brian. He was talking to Mr. Perriton, our director. This will terrify him," she said in a worried tone.
"You're not going anywhere until it's safe," he told her, his arms wrapped tightly around her.
As suddenly as the lights had gone out, they came back on again. Emily tried to scramble to her feet, but Joe held her down. "Wait a minute. I need to check things out."
He rose and looked at the absolute chaos surrounding him. Tables had been overturned, food was everywhere, people were visibly shaken. Joe couldn't tell at first if anyone had been injured. Then he saw it. Two of the glass cases had been shattered, their contents missing. And on the floor in front of one of them, lay Duncan MacLean, in a pool of his own blood.
OOOOOoooooOOOOO
Frank groaned as he struggled to get to a sitting position. Where the hell am I? And, why is it so dark? He shook his head to try and clear his mind and instantly regretted it as a bolt of pain shot through him. What? He reached backwards and felt something warm and sticky in his hair. Blood. He paused, trying to remember where he was. The museum. The fund-raising dinner. He slowly got to his feet, ignoring the wave of nausea that overtook him. The lights. I need to turn on the lights. No. Wait. I did turn on the lights. I flipped the breaker and then...and then I can't remember what happened. He gingerly touched the back of his head again. Although I think I have a pretty good idea.
He slowly moved along the cinder block wall. I must still be in the museum. He bumped into some bookshelves and moved around them, searching for an exit. He saw it finally, a thin sliver of light, coming from underneath a door. Frank worked his way towards it, fighting the dizziness that threatened to render him unconscious again. He reached it, finally, and grasped the metal door handle. He jumped backwards, the unexpected heat taking him by surprise. Then he smelled it. Smoke.
OOOOOoooooOOOOO
Emily gasped as she saw Duncan lying on the floor, unconscious and bleeding. "Oh, no! Joe, we need to help him." She began crawling towards him, her evening gown halting her progress as it caught between her legs.
Joe reached out to steady her. "Hang on Em, let me do it." He scooted towards Duncan and carefully lifted his right arm. He saw a burn mark clearly made by a bullet in the shoulder of his tuxedo. Joe quickly stripped
off his own tuxedo jacket and wadded it up, placing it under Duncan's shoulder and putting pressure on the wound. He looked up as Mr. Perriton, the museum director, approached him.
"Call an ambulance," Joe ordered.
"It's on its way." Mr. Perriton gazed around at the pandemonium, a look of anguish on his face. "What the hell is going on here?"
"I don't know, but you'd better get on that microphone and make an announcement," Joe directed. "Tell everyone to stay put and calm down and let them know the police will be here in a minute."
Before Mr. Perriton could reply, Mitch, the head of museum security, ran up to him. "The artifacts are missing," he said, breathing heavily. "I felt a guy run by me and I grabbed his arm, but he got away. I heard the back door open and I ran out to try and catch him, but I couldn't see anything." He paused. "Actually, I don't even know if it was the thief, I couldn't really tell, but I thought I'd better try anyway."
Mr. Perriton's shoulders sagged. "Thank you, Mitch. Please keep the patrons away from the exhibit area and don't go anywhere until you've spoken with the police."
Mitch nodded and headed toward the far wall of the room. Joe's eyes followed him and he noticed the smashed display cases with their now empty stands where the artifacts had been only moments earlier. He sighed, then turned as he heard Emily's voice.
"Is he going to be okay?" She looked down at Duncan and bit her lip.
"I hope so," he replied. "He's still breathing and his pulse is steady even if it's weak."
He watched as Emily looked around the room, her eyes coming to rest on the broken exhibit cases.
"Th-they're gone." Her eyes met Joe's, questioning. "Somebody stole the pieces for the Scottish exhibit?"
He nodded. "It looks like a sophisticated smash and grab. Whoever did it clearly knows this museum."
"B-but who? Who would do this?" She looked around the room at the shaken patrons, employees and volunteers. "And why would they want to?"
"That's what we need to figure out," Joe told her. He glanced down at the unconscious assistant museum director, then back at Emily. "And, soon."
OOOOOoooooOOOOO
Frank swore softly under his breath. Fire. I'm trapped. He paused then backed away from the door, his hands reaching around the room for something he could use to determine where he was and how he could escape. He felt along a row of what appeared to be filing cabinets. Yanking open one of the drawers, he grasped only at folders stuffed full of paper. Frank slammed it shut in frustration and moved more quickly along the row. I need to get to a different wall. There may be another exit.
He moved forward, hitting what appeared to be a metal desk. Reaching for the drawers, he rummaged through their contents, and excitedly grabbed onto a flashlight. Thank goodness for small favors, he thought and pushed the button. A dim light came from the other end. I guess finding extra batteries would be too much to hope for. He turned and swept the beam around the room. I'm pretty sure I'm still in the museum. In one of those storage rooms in the basement.
He turned to the door he'd tried to open previously, and could clearly see the orange glow of flames in the corridor. I've got to get out of here, fast. He gazed around the desk. No phone. He moved towards the other side of the room and sighed heavily. No other exit either. Before he could determine his next move, the sound of shattering glass caught his attention. The large frosted window in the wooden door had exploded and flames began licking at the inside of the storage room.
OOOOOoooooOOOOO
The police swarmed the building and the EMTs swarmed Duncan. Emily stepped back and surveyed the wreckage around her. She tried to steady herself with a few deep breaths while Joe talked to some of the police officers. Chief Collig was with Mr. Perriton and Mitch, and one of the other ladies who worked at the museum had Brian sitting in a chair and drinking some water. As Emily had predicted, the gunshot and the chaos had frightened him badly and they were waiting for one of his aides from the home to come and pick him up. I need something to focus on or I'm going to lose it. She stared down at the EMTs who were loading Duncan onto a stretcher.
"Are you his family?"
"Um, the closest thing he has to one right now, I guess."
"Okay, well then why don't you ride with us? We'll need some paperwork filled out so we can admit him."
Emily nodded dumbly. She looked up and saw Joe staring in her direction. "I'm going with him," she mouthed.
Joe looked dubious, but he nodded. He held up his fingers like he was talking on the phone. "I'll call you," he mouthed back.
Emily gave him a weak smile, picked up her evening bag and followed the gurney with Duncan on it through the main doors.
OOOOOoooooOOOOO
Joe watched as Emily left the building. She's in shock. He glanced around. As soon as I find Frank, I'm headed over to the hospital. She shouldn't be alone.
"Joe!" The female voice was a panicked shriek and he cringed at the sound of it. Heather Howell flung herself into his arms. "Oh my gosh! What is going on? This is crazy. This isn't their idea of a fun night, is it? Wait, is this supposed to be one of those murder mystery dinners?"
Joe sighed. "No, it's not." He looked over her shoulder at Callie, whose eyes were wide with horror. "Listen, let me go and find Frank and then we'll get you two home, okay?"
"You're just going to take us home? But we didn't even eat dinner."
"Heather, this is a crime scene now. I'm a detective. I'm working." Joe spoke in a measured voice. "I'm going to get Frank now." He looked up. "Callie, you wait right here with her, all right?"
Callie nodded and Joe headed for the staircase. "Don't go anywhere," he called back.
OOOOOoooooOOOOO
Frank flashed a swath of light across the back wall of the room again. Wait. He moved quickly towards a large set of metal shelving and trained the flashlight behind it. Is that a door? He hurriedly advanced toward the shelving and pushed aside what turned out to be several empty boxes resting on one of the shelves. It is a door. He touched the doorknob. And it's not hot. He turned it and found it pushed open easily. He slid himself onto the shelf and right through until he toppled into what appeared to be a closet. Damn it. He sighed and shone the light around. The wall looked odd to him. Much older than the walls in the storage room and part of it was brick. Frank began feeling what turned out to be wooden planks. His fingers caught on something metal. A latch. Coughing and choking as the fire starting eating up the documents in the room and burning even stronger, he tried pulling on it. It wouldn't budge.
Frustrated he slammed against it hard. He thought he felt it give a little. Oh, please. I don't have much time. His eyes were burning from the smoke. He threw his body against it again, but nothing happened. Come on, come on! Frank backed up and began coughing furiously. I need just a little more time. Please. He summoned up what was left of his quickly fading strength and went at the door full force. He kicked hard with his foot, heard the wood splinter and fell through to the other side. Before he had a chance to get his bearings, he passed out.