Page 65 of The Stolen Queen

“Never.”

“Seems to me you’re the one who would need assistance, in that case. Cairo would eat you alive.”

“Then it’s settled, we’ll go together.”

Charlotte had to give Annie credit: She was an obstinate one. “No. That’s not what I said. Let me put it this way: Do you have any experience with antiquity theft? Any familiarity with Arabic?”

Annie stopped and faced her. She was a few inches taller than Charlotte, and her cheeks were pink from the cold. “The jobs I had before working for Mrs. Vreeland were waitressing and housecleaning. So no, on both counts. But I’m the only one who can identify the thief. What if you run into him?”

Charlotte was about to launch into an explanation when she remembered she didn’t owe Annie Jenkins anything. After all, Annie Jenkins was the one who’d convinced Diana Vreeland to use the broad collar. At least Frederick had had the sense to secure it in a locked vitrine in the Egyptian Art collection first thing this morning.

“Look, you’ve been through a lot,” said Charlotte. “We both have. But we’re not in this together. What happened last night was terrible, and I’m sorry you got caught up in it, but let’s let the police and the museum’s security team do their job.”

Annie began to speak, but Charlotte cut her off. “Thank you, but I think you should head home now.”

Then she turned and walked away. She had enough to deal with, and taking care of Annie Jenkins was not part of her plan.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

Mark paced along the length of the dining table as Charlotte collected a notebook and pens, as well as her camera, and stuffed them into her carry-on bag. On the way home, she’d stopped by the travel agency and booked a ticket on a flight to Luxor connecting in Cairo that left the next evening, knowing if she waited too long her resolve might falter.

“I’m dead serious,” she replied. “I have to find out for myself what happened, how Leon survived, and how the broad collar was recovered.”

“Thanksgiving is in two days. What about our Thanksgiving plans?”

They usually hosted Thanksgiving for any of Mark’s students who couldn’t go home. It was always a merry crew; she wouldn’t be missed. “I’m sorry about Thanksgiving, I really am, but you’ll have Lori here to help out.”

“What about the art theft expert you’ve been talking to? Why can’t you send him?”

“Tenny? Because this isn’t about the theft. It’s about what happened to me back then. Leon could lie and Tenny wouldn’t know it. I know how to confront Leon, what to say and how to say it.”

“I’m coming with you, then. We’ll cancel Thanksgiving.”

Charlotte shook her head. This was something she needed to do alone. “You have to stay here with Lori. How did her audition go, by the way?”

Mark’s tone brightened slightly. “She got a callback.”

“That’s great. When’s the next audition?”

“Don’t try to change the subject. What if you wait until Christmas break and we both go then?”

“I can’t wait that long.”

He let out a long, frustrated sigh. “You’re not telling me everything, are you? I thought we’d had a breakthrough last night, on the steps of the Met. But you’re already putting up walls. Your evasiveness is going to be the end of us.”

“Please, Mark.” She hated leaving him like this, but he’d never understand her reasoning. He’d never lost a child. “I promise I’ll be careful, and I’m sorry I can’t explain it to your satisfaction. I need you to trust me on this, that I know what I’m doing and that I’ll be back and it’ll be just like it was before.”

“Where you keep secrets and I’m wondering what you’re thinking half the time?”

She was disappointing him. Again. Maybe it was better for her to be alone than to be with a generous, kind, smart man who wanted nothing more than to connect with her in a way that she couldn’t reciprocate. It was doing neither of them any good, and he deserved better. The thought made her heartsick.

“What does Frederick say about this?” he asked.

“He’s not happy.”

“So you’re putting your job at risk by heading to Egypt on a whim? Look, you’ve just been through a traumatic experience. Now’s not the time to be making rash decisions.”

She zipped up her bag. “Now’s exactly the time. For too long I’ve been pretending the past never happened. I have to face it or I’ll go mad, and I have to do it now.”

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