Page 7 of Ruthless Cross

"Then we understand each other."

"All right. You're in charge but keep me in the loop."

"Will do."

As he hung up, he saw Juliette, Callie, Detective Gage, and Savannah walking toward the executive office suite. Juliette was still crying, but maybe she could pull herself a little more together when she didn't have to look at her husband's body.

While he wanted to join them, he headed first to the security center. Rand Bentley was there and was happy to pull up the camera footage.

"We picked up Judge Corbyn on the second floor approximately eight minutes before he fell," Rand said. "He walked into the Monet exhibit, as you can see."

He nodded, feeling a tightness in his chest as he watched some of Arthur's last moments. He moved around the exhibit without glancing at any of the paintings. There was no one else in the room, but he appeared to be looking for someone. He checked his watch and then a woman came into view—Juliette.

His gut clenched. Juliette looked angry. She was talking fast and waving her hand in the air. Arthur seemed to be trying to tell her to calm down. He put a hand on her shoulder, but she jerked away and left the room. Arthur glanced at his watch once more, waited for several seconds and then moved back into the hall. An elderly couple walked past him. Then Arthur headed toward the stairs, where he ran into Stephen Vale, Gretchen's husband.

He'd known Stephen a very long time ago, when he was a struggling painter and part-time delivery person. That was years ago, before he and Gretchen had gotten married and taken over his father's gallery. Stephen exchanged a few words with Arthur and then he went downstairs while Arthur headed up. A moment later, the footage stopped.

"That's it," Rand said. "We just got the cameras back online a few minutes ago."

"I'd like to get one of my techs over here to work with your guys, see if we can figure out where the hack might have come from."

"We'll take all the help we can get."

He texted his cyber expert, Lucas Raines, explaining what he needed and asking him to come down to the museum as soon as possible. Then he went to find Juliette.

She'd spoken to her husband only minutes before his death, and they'd argued about something. He needed to know what that was about.

Callie and Juliette were seated on a couch in the director's office, but there was no sign of Victoria. Savannah and Gage were on their feet in front of them.

Juliette was still crying, constantly rubbing a wad of tissues across her dripping eyes and nose.

"I need to see Arthur," Juliette sobbed. "I need to go to the hospital."

"Mom, he's gone," Callie said gently, her arm around her mom's fragile shoulders.

"He can't be. He just can't be."

"Are we done here?" Callie asked sharply. "We've told you everything we know, which is nothing. We didn't see who pushed Arthur over the railing. We don't know anything. I need to get my mom home. She needs time to process everything."

Before either Savannah or Gage could answer, he said, "One moment." Her gaze flew to his, and he could see the anger in her eyes.

"What?" she snapped.

"I have a question for Juliette," he returned.

Juliette gave him a teary look. "You're Arthur's old friend."

"Yes, and I want to help you."

"No one can help me. Arthur is…dead." She finished that sentence with a sob.

"You spoke to Arthur in the Monet room on the second floor a few minutes before he went upstairs. It looked like you were arguing. What was that conversation about?"

She gave him a blank look. "What?"

"You spoke to your husband shortly before he was killed. You seemed angry. I'd like to know what you were talking about."

Juliette glanced at her daughter, as if seeking help from her.

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