“And?” Maggie decided to be patient.
“And he decided he’d help. For a price.” His eyes still hadn’t met hers.
A part of Maggie was slowly dying. “What price?”
“You.”
“Are you just going to stand there looking dazed?” Randall’s deep voice broke through her abstra
ction.
She’d been following him mindlessly down the maze of hallways in the old warehouse. Now she managed a wry grin. “I’m glad you know where you’re going,” she said, ignoring his question.
They were standing outside Caleb’s corner office. The smoked glass door was shut and probably locked. Maggie banished the last of her unhappy memories. “How are we going to get in?” she demanded. “And don’t look at me—I flunked B and E.”
“We don’t resort to breaking and entering until we’re sure we have to,” Randall said. “First we see if it’s locked.”
He reached out his tanned, narrow hand and tried the brass handle. It moved, silently and easily, and the door swung open.
“Hell and damnation,” Maggie breathed. “Someone’s been here first.”
eight
The office had been systematically, thoroughly trashed. Papers were everywhere, covering the industrial green carpeting, the battered desk, the shelves, the grimy windowsills, the upended chairs. In one corner, cans of film had been opened; the winding tape was strewn around the room like a black widow spider’s party streamers. Videotapes had been smashed in another corner and thrown in a random fury around the room. One of the windows was broken, letting in a blast of early evening heat to war with the air conditioning. Randall and Maggie stood for a long moment.
“Well,” she said finally, “at least we have a good idea what we’re looking for. And we know they didn’t find it.”
Randall looked down at her, a quizzical expression on his face. “Explain.”
“Videotapes. Every single videotape in the room has been examined and trashed. Some of the cans of film are still intact, so they clearly weren’t looking for film. And the papers were thrown at random—there’s no way someone could have gone through them all in the short time Caleb’s been at the party.”
“All right, I’ll accept that they were looking for videotapes,” he said slowly. “What makes you think they didn’t find it or them?”
“Because the remaining ones were smashed in a fury. That hole in the window looks like it’s the size of a videotape. If they’d found what they wanted, they wouldn’t have stomped all over the remaining ones.”
Randall looked at her, then nodded slowly. “You’ve learned a lot in the last five—six years,” he corrected himself. His small smile did little to lighten his face.
She didn’t return the smile. “I had a little on-the-job training, trying to get out of Gemansk,” she said, turning her back on him. “Do you want to see if we can find anything in this mess?”
She could feel his eyes on her back, and she kept it stiff, upright, and waiting—for an excuse, for an apology, for some word of what had never been discussed. But now wasn’t the time.
“I imagine they’ve been thorough,” Randall said, his voice level. “Let’s go back to the party and see if anyone’s in a particularly frustrated mood. Apart from me.”
She turned to look at him then. “What are you frustrated about? We’ve learned something, at least.”
He was standing very still, his stormy eyes watchful, his face remote. “You’re the one who’s gotten so smart all of a sudden, Maggie. You think about it.”
“If that’s your twisted version of a come-on, Randall,” Maggie said, her face flushed, “then you have a hell of a lot of nerve.”
“Did you ever doubt it?” he countered. “Let’s get back to the party.” And turning his back on her, he strode from the office, heading back down the long narrow hallways.
She watched him walk away from her. Watched him leave her, without a backward glance, as he’d done so long ago in Gemansk. And closing the door lightly behind her, she followed him.
In the crowd, the level of noise and smoke and heat had risen appreciably in the ten or fifteen minutes they had been gone to check out Caleb’s office. Maggie peered through the mingling people, all dressed soberly in black and dark blue, searching for her sister.
“Oh, my God!” she breathed suddenly. “Mother!”
She could feel Randall’s start of interest. “Sybil Bennett? Where?”