“How was your morning?” Marcus asked as I sat down.
“All right,” I said. “Everett talked to the insurance company. And the CEO of the museum. They’re making space in another part of the museum. We should be able to get the artwork back to them early next week.”
Hope was on her way out the door. She raised a hand at us as Nic approached the table. “Hello, Kathleen,” he said. He refilled Marcus’s cup and poured coffee for me. “The lunch special is macaroni and cheese with ham and chopped tomatoes.” He turned to me. “Eric said to tell you he also has a roasted vegetable sandwich on sourdough.”
“That sounds good,” I said, imagining two thick slices of Eric’s sourdough bread soaked with juicy roasted tomatoes, mushrooms and peppers.
Marcus ordered the macaroni and cheese.
“It’ll just be a few minutes,” Nic said.
I reached for the cream for my coffee. “You’re going to talk to Maggie and Ruby,” I said.
He nodded. “We’re putting together a timeline for last Thursday.”
“Let me know if you need anything else from me.”
We spent the next several minutes talking about my family back in Boston. I was telling Marcus about my mother’s latest efforts directing my dad when Nic slid an oval-shaped stoneware dish in front of him. I could smell the aroma of cheese and ham. He put a heavy plate at my place and my mouth began to water as the scent of warm grilled bread, tomatoes and spices reached my nose.
I’d just reached over and snagged a forkful of macaroni and cheese from Marcus’s bowl when Gavin Solomon stepped into the restaurant. He looked around and came in our direction once he caught sight of us.
“I’m glad I found you, Kathleen,” he said to me. “I just spoke to Detective Lind. I think I know who took the Weston drawing.”
“You know who broke in to the library?” Marcus said with just an edge of skepticism in his voice.
“Possibly,” Gavin said. If he’d heard Marcus’s disbelief, he was ignoring it. He grabbed a chair from a nearby table, pulled it over and sat down. “A criminal named Devin Rossi.”
“And he is?” Marcus asked.
“She,” Gavin corrected. He leaned sideways, managed to catch Nic’s attention and mimicked drinking. Nic nodded and reached under the counter for a coffee cup. “Devin,” he repeated. “With an ‘i’ and an ‘n.’ As soon as Detective Lind told me how the break-in was done, I thought of her.”
“So you’re saying this person is some kind of professional cat burglar?” I said.
Gavin laughed. “Yeah, I know how ridiculous that sounds—a cat burglar, here.” He held up both hands for a moment in a “what can you do?” gesture. “But this isn’t an old Cary Grant movie. And Mayville Heights is the perfect place for a thief like Rossi to be operating. It makes more sense than trying to rob a high-security art museum in Paris.”
I thought he had a point, but I could tell from the set of Marcus’s jaw that he didn’t agree.
Nic arrived then with a cup of coffee for Gavin. “Could I get you anything else?” he asked.
Gavin gestured at his cup. “Let me finish this first, and then I’ll decide.”
Nic nodded. “No problem.”
Gavin added cream to his coffee, then reached across the table for my spoon to stir it, smiling at me as he did so. He took a long drink and leaned back in his chair.
“Devin Rossi stole artwork on demand for specific customers. She’d been operating mostly in North America and Great Britain for the past few years.”
“Stole?” I asked. “Past tense?”
“It looks that way. She dropped out of sight about two years ago. It was like she just disappeared.”
“Why haven’t I heard of this person?” Marcus asked.
“She’d been eluding law enforcement for pretty much the entire time.” Gavin shrugged. “No one is really sure what she even looks like. There was some speculation that she’d given up stealing for a living and was living on a beach somewhere in Costa Rica.”
Marcus speared a forkful of macaroni and ham but didn’t actually eat it.
“You think she’s the one who broke in to the library?” I said. “Why?”
“Because she was a gymnast as a kid who segued into rock climbing as a teenager. Can you think of someone better equipped to get onto the roof of the library and climb down from a skylight?”
“You’re saying she deliberately chose the most difficult way she could think of to break in to the building—assuming she even did this?” Marcus asked. He set his fork down on the table and gave up on pretending to eat.
“In a way, yes. Devin was always very careful not to be seen, not to be caught, but it was as if she liked the rush from doing things the hard way.” He held up one finger. “Excuse me a minute.” He pulled his cell out of his pocket, looked at the screen and put it away again. He turned to Marcus. “I have a contact at the Chicago Police Department. He’s sending you everything he has on Devin Rossi.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened, but all he said was, “Thank you.”
Gavin turned his smile on both of us. “And I’ve interrupted your lunch enough.” He looked at me and the smile widened just a bit. “Kathleen. I’ll call you later and we’ll coordinate getting the exhibit packed and out of your library as soon as the police are certain they’re finished.” His gaze moved to Marcus and the smile faded. “Detective, let me know if you have any questions.”
He stood up and put the chair back in one smooth movement, raised a hand and made his way over to the counter.
Marcus’s mouth moved but he didn’t say anything. I took a bite of the last bit of my sandwich and waited.
“A cat burglar,” he said finally.
I nodded. “Uh-huh.”
His eyes flicked over to the counter where Gavin was talking to Nic. “Okay, even I have to admit this whole thing is starting to seem a little . . . out there. A cat burglar for hire, female no less, ends up here, in Mayville Heights. She climbs up onto the roof of the building, gets inside via a skylight no one knew was working, and makes it down to the floor like some kind of ninja.”
I reached across the table, took another forkful of macaroni and ate it before I answered. “Number one. Women can be cat burglars. What we lack in upper-body strength we make up for with persistence.” Marcus opened his mouth and I waggled a finger at him. “I wasn’t finished.”
“I’m sorry. I should have known that,” he said.
I held up another finger. “Two. It certainly looks like someone did get into the building via that skylight that Will Redfern left unsecured. Whoever it was probably didn’t somersault down onto the stairs like a ninja, but they did get inside. And that at least partly explains how they managed to circumvent the alarms on the windows.”
I picked up my fork again, speared the last chunks of ham and tomato in Marcus’s dish and ate them.
He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “There’s no number three?” he said.
I held up three fingers. “And number three: Again, you’re jealous.”
His blue eyes narrowed. “I’m jealous? Of Gavin Solomon?”
I reached for my cup and when I realized it was empty leaned sideways and caught Eric’s eye at the counter.
I turned my attention back to Marcus. “You get a little caveman when he’s around.”
“I don’t get a little caveman,” he protested, “and what does that mean?”
“It means you want to throw me over your shoulder, beat on your chest and then carry me back to your cave.”
“I’m not jealous and I’m not going to beat on my chest,” he said. Then he raised an eyebrow. “Although throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you back to my cave does have a certain appeal.”
I was saved from having to answer by Eric with fresh coffee. “Any idea when the library is going to open?” he asked as he filled my cup.