“Where did you find this chick, Maddock?” Bones smiled in approval.
“Hey, I was straight-laced when I met you.” She blushed and glanced away. “Okay, that’s a lie, but these adventures you’ve been telling me about have brought out my… devious side.” She grinned at Maddock. “Admit it. Aren’t you happy to have me at your disposal?”
A cool breeze rolled up off the Potomac, and Melissa gave a little shudder and pressed her body against Maddock.
“I don’t know if I’m cold or just nervous,” she whispered.
Maddock wrapped his arms around her and gave her a squeeze. “You’re doing great. If it weren’t for you, we’d have probably set off an alarm or two.”
“Hey,” Bones said, “a little more confidence in my burglary abilities, if you please. I could have gotten us in.”
“Sure you could have,” Melissa said, “but isn’t this way easier?” She unlocked the veranda door, stepped inside, and quickly disabled the alarm.
“Where do you want to start?” Bones whispered.
“The study. I want another look at the Washington portrait.”
They moved quickly to the study, with only faint security lights and the dull moonlight shining through the windows to light their way. Once inside the study, Melissa took out a small hardbound book and a penlight. “There’s a shot of the study in here. It shows the painting.” She shone the light on the page and they spent a few seconds absorbing it, then she turned the light on the painting. “See anything different?”
Bones shrugged. “His package is smaller? Bigger?”
Melissa let out an exasperated sigh.
“Let’s see the picture again,” Maddock said.
Melissa shone the light on the image and it clicked into place.
“Look at Washington’s left hand,” Maddock said.
“He’s holding a book,” Bones said.
“Now look at the painting on the wall.”
Melissa turned her light to the portrait and gasped. “The book’s gone.”
“What the hell?” Bones asked. “He switched out the paintings? What for?”
“I’ll bet that’s the journal he’s looking for. He’s just removing a visual reminder of its existence. Think about it. It’s so subtle that Sarah didn’t even notice.”
“The painting’s small,” Bones agreed. “It would be a pain, but a big guy could smuggle it in or out under his jacket.”
Maddock ran a hand through his hair. “So he switched the real painting for a fake one, and he clearly intends to make a fake Bastille key. This is weird.”
They made a quick inspection of the room, but nothing else caught Melissa’s eye, so they proceeded to the stairs. The police had noticed only a couple of footprints, but Bones’ sharp eye was far superior. He noted scuffs and tiny bits of dirt that the police had missed. The big Cherokee quickly led them into a second-floor bedroom.
“This is the Lafayette Bedchamber,” Melissa said. “Marquis de Lafayette was like a son to Washington, and this was where he stayed on his visits.”
Maddock shone his light around the room, its beam playing off the canopy bed, armchairs, washstand, and fireplace, eventually landing on a gold-framed portrait of the Marquis himself.
“What did he want in here?” Melissa asked.
“Looks like…” Bones moved slowly across the carpeted floor, following a trail only he could see, “he stopped right in front of this painting.” Bones shone his light on the wall around the painting. “I think he took it down. You can see a gold smudge where he banged the frame against the wall.”
“You think he switched this one too?” Melissa asked.
Maddock shook his head. “Too big. Let’s take a closer look.”
He slipped on a pair of gloves, took the painting down, and laid it face-down on the bed. “I wonder…” He worked the thin wooden backing out of the frame and pulled it free. Just as he had suspected, it was a false backing. He flipped it over and whistled in surprise.
“There was something here.”
In the center of the backing were eight ragged corners of yellowed paper.
“Somebody glued pages from…something in here,” Bones said.
“And our friend found them and tore them free.” Maddock hung the painting back up. “The plot thickens.”
“I guess we’ve hit a dead end,” Melissa said.
“Not necessarily. We can research the journal, and also see if we can find out what might have been hidden in this portrait.”
“As long as we’re here, we might as well follow the footprints out on the piazza,” Bones said. “Maybe he went somewhere else while he was here.”
Outside, Bones quickly pointed out a footprint that he claimed matched those of the intruder.
“The guy was coming this way when he left this print, so I guess we’ll be retracing his steps.”
Maddock could scarcely make out the print in the soft earth, but he trusted Bones. He and Melissa followed his friend as Bones followed the tracks around the main house, past the outbuildings, and along the trees that lined the front lawn. Halfway down, they cut across the greenspace and picked up the trail again among the trees on the opposite side.
“He was clearly trying to keep out of sight,” Maddock said.
“Like it was necessary,” Bones said. “There’s hardly any security in this place.”
They cut through a series of gardens, crossed a wide walkway, and soon found themselves staring at a gray, metal door at the back of the Mount Vernon Museum. Bones took out his Maglite and gave it a close inspection.
“Do you want me to pick the lock or let Melissa handle it?”
“Get out of the way.” Melissa slipped past Bones, tapped in a code on the keypad, and, pushed the door open.
Maddock stepped inside and flicked on his flashlight, revealing a storage room filled with row upon row of shelves. They followed the footprints on the floor, found where they stopped, inspected the boxes in this area.
“There’s a gap here,” he said, shining his light on an empty space. “Do you have any idea what was here?”
“As matter of fact, I do. I was just in here the other day.”
“Hooking up with someone?” Maddock asked.
Melissa ignored him. “A museum in Boston came across some artifacts from a visit Washington made there in 1791. They were mixed in with items belonging to Sam Adams and were only recently identified. The archivist was just inventorying it.”
Bones and Maddock exchanged a meaningful look. They knew something about Washington’s 1791 visit to Boston that few others knew, and even fewer would believe.
Melissa looked around. “There it is.” She pointed to a single box on the top shelf. “The guy put it back in the wrong place. Must have been in a hurry.”
Bones took it down and handed it to her. She opened it, took out a sheet of paper containing an itemized list of the contents, and compared it to what was in the box.
“There’s one item missing. A letter to Lafayette that was never mailed.”
“A deathbed letter to his surrogate son,” Bones said.
“What do you mean by deathbed?” Melissa asked, replacing the box.
Just then the lights switched on and a voice came from near the door. “Hands in the air, Bonebrake. Maddock, I know you’re in here. This is Detective Ramos. Speak up to acknowledge that you heard me.”
“Is there another way out of here?” Maddock mouthed to Melissa.
She shook her head.
“Anywhere you can hide?”
She nodded.
“Go.”
Melissa slunk away, vanishing behind the rows of shelves.
Anger laced Ramos’ next words. “You boys may think I’m just some local hick, but you’d do well to think again. There’s no other way out of here and I called for backup as soon as I saw y’all sneakin’ in. Be a shame if you was roughed up when we take you into custody.”