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bishop of Eichstätt. The complete book is worth well over a quarter of a million dollars, but many copies were cannibalized and the prints sold separately. Even the prints are still worth thousands of dollars . . . do have a look at them, Kevin.”
    â€œI will.” He shifted his gaze and scanned the room. “It looks like the waiters are starting to serve the champagne. I believe I’m saying a blessing, and I haven’t even said hello to Victor and Yasmin. Will you all excuse me?”
    â€œAnd me, as well,” Jack said. “I’m going to be taking off soon, papers to grade. I need to have a quick word with someone before I go. Sophie, I’ll call you, okay? Nice to meet you, Thea.”
    Jack left and Thea gave me a sideways glance. “So tell me, how do you know Brother Kevin? And the dashing Father O’Hara?”
    â€œJack and I went to high school together and I met Kevin through Jack. At Jack’s ordination, in fact.” I left out the part about the dashing Father O’Hara being an ex-boyfriend and changed the subject. “Do you know many people here tonight?”
    â€œThe ones from the Smithsonian, Yasmin’s friends and colleagues.”
    â€œWhat about that man over there?”
    The dark-haired man who’d been watching me earlier had entered the dining room and positioned himself so he had a clear view of Yasmin Gilberti. She seemed aware that he was staring at her because she abruptly swung around to face the opposite direction and nearly spilled her glass of wine on her beautiful dress. Kevin caught the glass just in time and cut a look at the man, who turned away. He said something in Yasmin’s ear and she blushed, shaking her head.
    â€œThe one in black who’s ogling Yasmin?” Thea had been watching the little drama as well. She gave me a coy smile. “That’s David Arista. Gorgeous, isn’t he?”
    â€œI . . . well. I just wondered who he was, that’s all.”
    â€œGet in line, darling.”
    â€œI’m happily married. Why is he ogling Yasmin, if you don’t mind saying?”
    â€œDavid flirts with all the women he works with. Even me.” Her laugh was rich. “It’s part of his charm.”
    â€œWhat’s he doing here tonight? Besides flirting, that is?”
    â€œHe owns C-Cubed. A marketing and media strategy company. I believe it stands for ‘create, catalyze, and connect.’ He’s been working with Yasmin on the Smithsonian Creativity Council.”
    â€œThe Smithsonian Creativity Council?”
    â€œA group of young creative types—to me, they’re practically children—who founded companies in their dorm rooms or their parents’ garages and then made a billion dollars. They’re supposed to come up with innovative solutions for making the museum’s collections accessible to the public, particularly the hundreds of thousands of items in storage.” She gave me a droll look and said, “David calls it ‘interacting with the physical and the digital worlds simultaneously.’”
    So David Arista’s relationship with Yasmin was professional, not personal.
    â€œSounds like you need to be a contortionist.”
    Thea laughed again. “Yes, maybe. There’s a rumor going around that Ursula Gilberti’s reelection campaign manager just hired David as well.”
    Thea Stavros seemed well versed in all the rumors floating around tonight. She took a glass of champagne from a waiter holding a tray and said, “It wouldn’t surprise me if it were true. David knows where all the bodies are buried . . . a useful skill in this town.”
    â€œNo champagne for you, miss?” the waiter said to me.
    â€œThank you, but I’m working.” I pointed to my camera. To Thea I said, “I need to have a word with Yasmin and Victor before the toast. Will you excuse me?”
    â€œOf