Page 21 of Nothing Hiding

The museum was filled with figurines, with mannequins, with life-sized dolls. There was a lot to check. Walking from room to room, Juliette didn't just scan each model. She went up and poked them, prodded them, and shook them to check. The original witness who'd found the body hadn't noticed a thing until accidentally knocking her over. They were going to be well camouflaged.

But every model she went up to was formed of plastic, or stuffed with foam, or had the cool, artificial feel she recognized instantly. Moving from room to room, she began to think they were wrong.

As they made their way towards the exit, Juliette noticed a small door behind a velvet curtain, tucked away in the corner of the room.

She turned to Wyatt, signaling him to follow her. They approached the door, and Juliette tried the handle.It was open. She pushed the door wide, already feeling the adrenaline pumping through her veins.

But there was nobody in the room. It was completely empty, and she let out a sigh, mad at herself for having worked her own mind up to the state where she'd been anticipating something so surely.

Turning back, she saw the police officer approach.

"Agent, we've checked the entire area. No bodies to be found, and we have checked all the mannequins and models and, er, lifelike forms."

Juliette nodded. Her theory hadn't held up—not yet. It might still, but for now, she had another question.

"What's this expo like after hours?" she asked him. "What security is in place? Because I'm wondering how this killer got inside."

His eyebrows raised. "That's a good question, ma'am. I'm not sure. I know that event security was asked to stand by, and their night manager is here. I can call him if you like?"

"I would like to speak to the night manager," Juliette said. "But I also want to speak to the daytime staff. There's a chance this victim might have been brought inside in daylight. So, let's cover all bases."

The officer nodded and stepped back to call the night manager while Juliette and Wyatt made their way back to the exhibition hall.

Juliette turned to Wyatt. "What do you think?" she asked him.

Wyatt's expression was thoughtful. "I don't know. It's possible the killer had some kind of insider knowledge, or maybe they snuck in during the day and hid until it was empty. But we won't know for sure until we talk to the staff."

Juliette nodded in agreement. "Let's split up then. I'll take the daytime staff, and you speak to the night manager."

"Okay," Wyatt said.

He strode off in the direction the police officer had gone while Juliette went to the organizer's office, a hole in the wall kiosk that was tiny compared to the rest of the exhibition.

A woman with a ferociously curly head of gray hair was sitting at the desk, knitting. Her needles clicked rapidly. She glanced up as Juliette approached.

"I'd like to speak to the event manager," she said. "And the person who manages access in and out of the exhibitors' side."

If someone was coming in carrying a body, they would have had to have gone through that way.

The ferocious woman nodded.

"The manager is waiting in the back office," she said. "As for the back gate attendant, I think he went home."

"Home?" Juliette felt incredulous that anyone would have been allowed to go home at such a time.

"He said he had a migraine. He left about two minutes ago," she said. Then, glancing up, she added, "Oh, no, wait, he didn't. He's on his way now. That's him there. Markus Griggs."

Juliette turned in his direction.

"Markus Griggs?" she called.

But the tall, lean, stringy man didn't stop, or even give any acknowledgment he heard her.

Instead, he broke into a run.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Running? After a dead body had just been discovered on site, and police were calling to him? Juliette knew Markus Griggs was guilty of something.

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