Free Thread End: An Embroidery Mystery by Amanda Lee Page B

while watching the movie, or would you prefer to eat here at the table?” he asked.
    “Let’s eat here at the table. I’d hate to get pizza sauce on your sofa.”
    “Says she of the white living room furniture.” He winked as he pulled out a chair for me.
    I sat down. “Reggie told me you and Manu were questioning all the museum staff today, including the guards you spoke with yesterday.”
    “Yeah, we needed to make sure they were telling the same stories they told last night,” he said.
    “Did you go through their employment records? Had any of them been disciplined or anything?”
    He chuckled. “Yes. Believe it or not, this isn’t my first investigation.”
    “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I just keep searching my brain for a solution of some sort.”
    Angus moved closer to me, so I tore off a piece of my crust and gave it to him.
    “I know what you meant,” Ted said. “Believe me, there’s not a painted canvas or a chiseled piece of marble we’ve left unturned at that museum, and we still don’t have anything other than guesses. The thieves apparently left no evidence whatsoever. I feel sorry for our crime scene techs. They’re working around the clock to go over every inch of the museum so it can open again by Tuesday.”
    “Reggie said that art thieves often ransom the art back to the museum or collector,” I said. “I take it that hasn’t happened?”
    “Not yet. Did she mention that less than fifteen percent of stolen art is ever recovered?”
    “No. That’s depressing.”
    “It is,” he said. “In Boston in 1990, thieves stole thirteen pieces of art from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. The pieces were valued at more than three hundred million dollars and were never recovered. There’s still an outstanding reward of five million to anyone who can provide information leading to the return of the works.”
    “Speaking of rewards, did Manu change his mind about allowing the museum to offer one?” I asked.
    “Not yet. If no leads pan out and no ransom demand is given by Tuesday, he’ll let the board of directors announce the reward.”
    “What about Dr. Vandehey? How do you think he figured into this entire plot?”
    He shrugged. “Too soon to tell.”
    We finished eating and went into the living room to watch the movie. Fifteen minutes in, I heard Ted quietly snoring beside me. I extracted myself from his arms, covered him with the afghan from the back of his couch, and turned off the movie. I kissed him tenderly, and then Angus and I left.

Chapter Eight
    T ed was adorably sheepish when he came by the shop the next morning. He even brought me a dozen red roses, which I accepted gratefully but told him was completely unnecessary.
    “I felt like such a jerk when I woke up on my couch this morning and realized what had happened,” he said. “Was the movie good?”
    “I only saw the first few minutes, but it didn’t seem to be as great as the commercials made it out to be.”
    “I don’t remember any of it. I did go ahead and drop it back off at the kiosk, but we can rent it again if you’d like to.”
    I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. “We’ll see where the day takes us.”
    “I really am sorry I fell asleep on you,” he said.
    “I’m not. It was nice to see you all vulnerable and sweet.” I grinned at his eye roll. “Besides, I’ve fallen asleep on you before.”
    “That’s different.”
    I shook my head. “It only proves that the man of steel is human.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “So now I’m Superman?”
    “You always have been to me.”
    He pulled me closer. “Oh, I like that.” He lowered his head and gave me a toe-curler of a kiss.
    Then, naturally—and probably a good thing since we shouldn’t be providing a PDA for everyone on the sidewalk—duty called and Ted had to leave. He did say he’d try to be back for lunch.
    Not long after Ted left, a cheery woman in a bright pink pantsuit came into the shop.
    “Good morning and