“Take my picture in front of it!” insisted Camille.
“Let’s just get inside,” said Mary Sullivan. “It’s freezing.”
Camille put her hands on her hips and stood on a small patch of brown grass just outside the National Gallery of Art. The huge banners hung directly behind her.
“Please take my picture,” she said in a demanding yet polite manner.
Mary sighed. She knew it was easier just to take the picture than to continue to argue with her daughter. And to be fair, she also knew that she had a tendency to argue with her daughter for argument’s sake—Camille had that kind of effect on people.
Camille motioned at the boy. “Get over here,” she said.
The boy looked over at Mary, who merely shrugged. “I’d do what she says,” said Mary.
The boy made his way over to Camille and stood next to her. He realized for the first time how much taller he was than her—at least six inches, maybe more.
“Say cheese,” said Mary.
“Elephant poop!” yelled back Camille.
The boy broke into a broad smile.
Dorchek Palmer’s computer beeped. The Sullivan woman had used the camera app on her phone. The computer showed the image that was taken just seconds ago. There was no need to check the GPS tag on the picture—Palmer instantly recognized where she was.
It had to be a coincidence.
Palmer had plenty of questions, but those questions would have to wait—first things first. Palmer pulled out his phone and typed out a text message to his team. He stared at the message on the small screen of his smartphone. He knew that as soon as he sent the text, things were going to get a lot more complicated—but he had no choice. Palmer pushed Send.
The message read: “Package located. National Gallery of Art. West Building.”