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acceptable again for any traveling exhibit from Japan is for them to produce the armor and swords."
    "Which is where you come in."
    "If possible. He doesn't seem to hold out much hope, but I think he figured he didn't have anything to lose by giving this a shot."
    Richard realized he was letting his ice melt after all, and he licked almond praline off his knuckles. No, Joseph Viscanti didn't have anything to lose, but Samantha Jellicoe did.
    Adjusting her mom purse, her harried expression, and the piece of paper with school letterhead she'd snagged from the trash, Samantha walked up to the front of J. C. Thomas Elementary School, bypassing the wheelchair ramp in favor of the steps. A security guard met her just inside the doorway. "May I help you?" he asked.
    "I certainly hope so," she snapped, clutching the paper harder. "My daughter's teacher asked me to 'stop by,'" she pretended to read, "as if I can just take off from work on a whim."
    He gave a sympathetic nod. "School hours are hard when both parents work full—"
    "Both parents?" she snapped back at him. "That would be a miracle. I would appreciate if you would stop insulting me and tell me where I can find Miss Barlow's class."
    His face reddened. "Sure. Fourth classroom down on the west side—to the right."
    She stuffed the paper into her purse and stalked off. "Thank you."
    The kids were all gone, but she hoped it was early enough that Miss Barlow would still be inside her fifth grade class-room. If not, she would take a look around for any clues Okay, she felt like a goof, but Livia had asked, and she didn't want to lie and say she'd checked things out when she hadn't.
    Most of the school was under one roof, joined by long hallways and a central auditorium. Friendly drawings of big-headed friends and family and rainbows and elephants lined the walls. She'd been to a couple of different elementary schools when Martin settled them somewhere to scout a job and Stoney bullied him into enrolling her, but it still looked and smelled foreign—like cookies and washable paint.
    The door to Livia's classroom stood open, and a slim, dark-haired woman with an actual teacherly bun on the back of her head stood in front of a blackboard writing out lessons. "Miss Barlow?"
    The woman jumped, putting a hand to her heart as she turned around. "My goodness, you startled me. Yes, I'm Simone Barlow."
    "Hi. I'm Sam Jellicoe. I'm kind of Olivia Donner's honorary aunt. She—"
    "You're Samantha Jellicoe," Miss Barlow repeated, her brown eyes widening. "Rick Addison is your—"
    "My good friend," Samantha interrupted, though a little bit of her was curious to see how the teacher would describe her relationship with Rick.
    "Yes, yes. Your good friend. What may I do for you, Miss Jellicoe?"
    "Call me Sam. Livia told me that your anatomical man went missing, and she asked if I'd check into it."
    "But I thought you did security inspections and installations."
    Miss Barlow seemed to be a member of the Rick Ad-dison fan club—or at least of Rick's Chicks, the online version. "I do, mostly. I also work with museums to track down missing or stolen artifacts. Livia thought I might be able to help here. Do you have a police report?"
    "Yes. Principal Horner gave me a copy of it. Would you like a photocopy?"
    "That would be great."
    The teacher went to her desk and pulled some papers out of the wire basket labeled For Miss Barlow in pretty, flowery letters. "I'll be right back. Olivia's desk is over here." She pointed at the seat in the front row, second from the left. "Thanks. No hurry."
    As soon as Miss Barlow left, Samantha took out her digital camera and snapped photos going around the room. Then she walked back to the door and took a look at it. It had a lock, as did the one at the other end of the room. The second one stopped her for a second.
    When she looked at the frame, she immediately noticed a tiny patch of sticky residue right above and another one directly below the latch plate.