Grace Among Thieves by Julie Hyzy

get this guy upstairs while the GSW victim is being transported to the hospital.”
    “GSW?” Frances asked.
    “They think they’re so smart and they don’t even know basic lingo,” Flynn said to Thrush as he rolled his eyes. “Gunshot wound,” he said to Frances in a condescending voice. To John, he said, “Your group will have to stay in town tonight.”
    “We’re scheduled to leave in the morning.” John was beginning to regain some of his vitality. I supposed dealing with idiots will do that for you.
    “We’ll see about that,” Flynn said, “I can’t promise. What I can tell you is that the victim upstairs isn’t going anywhere. He’s staying for a couple of days, at least. My partner and I hope to clear this in the next forty-eight hours and we’ll need him here to identify the guy who killed the girl.”
    “You have someone in custody already?” I asked.
    Flynn looked up with dead eyes but didn’t answer. He grabbed John’s elbow to hoist him to his feet, but John shook off the detective’s grip. “I’m fully capable of getting up myself, thank you.” Yes, John was beginning to regain spirit. “Mark Ellroy,” he said to me. “He’s going to need a place to stay once he’s released from the hospital. We’re only booked at our hotel here until tomorrow night.”
    I immediately understood. “If Mr. Ellroy is required to stay in town, he’ll need a place to stay.”
    John nodded. “Can you take care of that?”
    “Absolutely,” I said. “I’ll arrange to have his things brought over and we’ll get him set up at the Marshfield Hotel.”
    Flynn seemed confused by our conversation. I felt no need to explain.
    Apparently, however, John did. “Thank you,” he said to me. To Flynn, he added, “This woman, who you so nastily dressed down, will be taking excellent care of your gunshot victim. It would behoove you to be nicer to her.”
    Flynn shrugged him off and led the small group out the door.

Chapter 9
    I SENT FRANCES UPSTAIRS AND DECIDED TO stop by the entrance hall to see how things were progressing for the task force. The detectives on site weren’t as pointedly rude as Flynn had been, but after providing me with minimal updates, they made it clear that they would prefer I wait in my office until summoned. Several of the incarcerated guests shot me looks of unrestrained desperation, but when I offered to have them moved to the Birdcage Room, where we could provide coffee and soft drinks, one of the task force detectives snarled, asking me if I thought this was a tea party.
    “Leave this to the proper authorities,” he said. “That would be us.”
    Truth be told, I was happy to be given a reprieve. As I started for my office again, I remembered my earlier state of mind—itching to take on the killer with my bare hands—and I gave a sad laugh at my own foolhardiness.
    Who was I to take on such a monster? I’d gotten lucky twice. I wasn’t about to push my good fortune by sticking my nose where it didn’t belong. I had neither the skill set nor the resources to be any help whatsoever.
    This morning I’d practically skipped up the stairs to our offices. Now, every trudging step I took made me feel as though I wore lead weights on my feet. My impression of Lenore was that she’d been misguided but ultimately harmless. She’d taken this vacation to get away from the fallout at the end of a difficult marriage. She’d been trying to do something positive, something for herself, and it had all been stolen away in a heartbeat.
    Weariness borne of sadness kept me company all the way up.
    I opened the door to Frances’s office. She looked up when the door opened and spoke as though she’d expected me to walk through that very minute, as though we were continuing a conversation that was already under way. “The golden horn.”
    It took me a minute to remember we’d ordered an emergency inventory. “It’s missing?”
    Frances’s eyes lit up the way they always did when she