Page 19 of A Ranger for Christmas
“Received a call from the officer on duty. He saw a flashlight in the room. We know Professor Thompson works late hours, but, well, she doesn’t work by flashlight. He came up to investigate and found the place as you see it.”
Lucas looked past the officer to the small ten-by-ten office. A few feet from a tall window stood a desk far too large for the office. It was made of bulky oak, and the heavy carvings on the legs and sides reminded him of another generation. The floor was littered with scattered papers and upended and open books as if someone had taken a hand and swiped it across the desk.A handblown glass lamp lay on the floor, its base shattered. Shelves on the walls, crammed full of books, had been pulled out randomly and also lay on the floor. “Do you know what was taken?”
“Hard to say with these professors. They have so many papers and projects. I couldn’t tell you what was valuable or not. I’ve called Professor Bradley Rogers. He’s on his way. He’s more familiar with Dr. Thompson’s work.”
He studied the mess again, thinking that this was the work of an amateur. If it had been a seasoned drug dealer, the office would have been swept clean and likely set on fire. They’d not have risked leaving behind evidence and would have destroyed the place as insurance.
Donning gloves, he moved behind the desk and sat in her chair. He tried to imagine her sitting here and wondering how she could stand such a confined, overcrowded space.
“What the devil?”
He turned to find Bradley standing in the doorway. His neat hair, brushed off an angled face, accented dark blue eyes. What the hell had Marisa seen in this man?
“Dr. Thompson’s office was vandalized,” the officer said.
Bradley studied the room, shaking his head. “Was anything taken?”
“You would know better than any of us,” Lucas said.
Bradley didn’t take his eyes off the confusion, as if Lucas hadn’t spoken. “She kept her recent work in the bottom right drawer of her desk.”
Lucas glanced at the drawer that was wide open and empty. “This drawer?”
Bradley came around the desk. “Yes.”
“What was she working on?”
“It’s hard to explain to a layman.”
“Try me.”
“She was able to snap pictures of the interior walls of a temple. Inscribed on the walls are messages that predate the Mayans by one thousand years. If she’s correct, her find is huge and will make her a rock star in our world.”
He found no traces of the work she’d been doing for him. The neatly annotated pages from the other night were gone. He touched his fingers to the wood damaged, clearly, by some metal device used to pry open the lock. “She didn’t keep important work in a more secure location?”
“Her photos are stored on a secure server, but the notes she’d been taking since the discovery were in that drawer. I told her so many times to get a real safe. Finally, she ordered one. It will be here in a matter of days. She believed the locks on the desk, her office door, and the building would be enough.”
“It wasn’t.”
“No.”
Lucas studied the desk. “Did she use a laptop?”
“She did.”
“It isn’t here.”
Bradley frowned as his gaze roamed the mess. “No.”
“I need a list of people who have access to this building.”
“Will take me an hour or so, but I’ll get right on it.”
“Thanks.”
He spotted an overturned picture and righted it. The image was of a much younger Marisa and a woman who clearly was her mother. They appeared to be in a jungle setting and her mother was holding up a stone carving.
As if reading his thoughts, Bradley offered, “Her mother. Dr. Ellie Thompson. She was a professor of archaeology. Marisa inherited her brains and love of history. I never met her. But she was well-known in her field and, from what I’ve heard, liked by her students.”
