Blood Lines

Shane."
    'Yes. However…" Then she managed to read the name on the badge and her cheeks darkened. "You're not his wife are you?"
    Vicki felt herself flush in turn. "Not hardly." Dr. Shane looked relieved but still embarrassed and again Vicki found herself wondering what Mike hadn't told her. And whether she really wanted to know. "I'm his cousin," she continued.
    "He thought he left some papers here and, as I just work around the corner on Bloor Street, he asked me to come by.''
    'Papers? Oh." Dr. Shane turned and started down the hall. "Well, if he left them, the departmental secretary Ms. Gilbert will know. I don't think she's left for the day."
    As they walked down the hall, Vicki noted doorways, locks, lines of sight, and Dr. Rachel Shane. Celluci could, of course, eat lunch with anyone he chose-their relationship had always been nonexclusive-but Vicki had to admit to being curious. He'd been so completely neutral when talking about the assistant curator that she'd known right away he was interested. Celluci wasn't that neutral about anything. Cursory observation showed Rachel Shane to be above average in height, attractive, self-assured, pleasant, polite… And obviously intelligent or she couldn't do her job.
    Christ, the perfect woman of the 90s. What do you want to bet she cooks, composts, and reads nonfiction ? A muscle jumped in her jaw and, surprised, Vicki unclenched her teeth.
    'So why didn't Detective Celluci come himself?"
    'I don't know." Dr. Shane's question had been asked in a tone as aggressively noncommittal as any Vicki had ever heard. That must've been some lunch, Celluci .

    There were, of course, no papers to find, although Ms. Gilbert, tying a plastic rain hat over permed hair, promised to keep an eye out.
    'Thanks for looking." As the older woman hurried out of the office, Vicki glanced down at her watch. Time for her to be leaving as well. This next bit had to be tightly choreographed. She held out her hand. "I appreciate you taking the time to see me, Dr. Shane."
    'I'm just sorry we couldn't find the detective's papers."
    She had a firm handshake and a dry palm. Another two points in her favor. "Time he started remembering where he leaves things anyway. But if they do turn up, will you call him?"
    'Yes, of course I will."
    I'll bet . All of a sudden it was an effort to sound pleasant. "Did he give you his home number?"
    'Yes, he did."
    And just what does that Mono Lisa smile mean ? "Well, thanks again. I'll find my own way back to the elevator. I mean, it's a straight length of hall, I can hardly get lost."
    Back on the first floor, a steady stream of staff members moved through the security area, leaving for the day. Vicki, with one eye on the clock, made sure the guard noticed her sign out and return her badge. Shift change would be in two minutes.
    'Oh, blast, I left my umbrella upstairs." She shot a panicked look at the outer doors where sheets of rain were slapping against the glass, then turned to the guard. "Mind if I run up and get it?''
    'Nan, go ahead." He shot a disgusted look of his own at the rain.
    The best lie isn't a lie at all , Vicki mused retrieving her umbrella from behind one of the temple dogs at the door to the Far East Department. She hurried down the hall to a small supply cupboard, just past the photocopy machine. The door had been open earlier and it had seemed like the perfect hiding place. Unfortunately, the door was now locked and she'd be in plain sight of anyone approaching from either direction while she worked on it.
    'Damn."
    The open orange doors had to belong to the workroom; Vicki could hear Dr. Shane discussing the restoration of a mural. The double yellow doors across from them were ajar. Vicki slipped inside as the voices from the workroom grew louder.
    '… so we'll take another look at that plaster patch tomorrow."
    They were in the hall now.
    Vicki turned. Obviously, she was in the storeroom; the black stone sarcophagus Celluci had mentioned sat barely an arm's length away. Just as obviously, someone would be arriving momentarily to turn off the lights and lock the door.
    After a quick glance at the lock-being trapped inside was low on her list of useful ways to spend the night-Vicki scanned the room for a hiding place. Unfortunately, the sheer volume of stuff made quiet movement impossible and the sarcophagus stood so close to the door that hiding behind it would be useless.
    But in it?
    She scrambled inside seconds before the storeroom door