Always a Thief - Kay Hooper [36]
“I'll tell him right where you are,” Storm assured her.
“If you were a true friend, you'd lash me to the nearest mast before I make an utter fool of myself,” Morgan said somewhat mournfully. “All that crafty devil has to do is smile and say something—anything—and I forget all my good intentions.”
With a faint smile, Storm said, “I'd be glad to lash you to a mast if I thought that was what you really wanted.”
“I'm not fooling anybody today, am I?”
“No. But don't let that worry you. We're all entitled to at least one bit of reckless folly in our lives, Morgan. My daddy taught me that. It's something to remember.”
“Have you had yours?” Morgan asked curiously.
The small blonde smiled. “Of course I have. I fell for Wolfe in the middle of a very tricky situation when I couldn't tell him the truth about myself. It was reckless and foolish—but it turned out all right in the end. Something else for you to remember: Often the definition of a foolish act is just . . . bad timing.”
Morgan nodded thoughtfully and left her friend, beginning to make her way through the crowded museum toward the Mysteries Past exhibit, housed on the second floor and in the west wing of the huge building.
Reckless folly. A good description, Morgan thought. After all, nobody in their right mind would consider this fascination with an internationally notorious cat burglar anything but reckless folly. Bad timing? Oh, yes, it was that too.
And knowing all that did absolutely nothing to knock some sense into her normally sensible head, she reflected wryly.
“It's impressive as hell,” Keane Tyler commented to his partner as they wandered through the exhibit.
“I'll say,” Gillian Newman agreed. “Whoever designed these display cases is a real artist; all the pieces look wonderful. And if we ever have time, I want to go through and read all the information cards on each piece. Looks like most of this stuff has a very colorful history.”
“I'm a bit more worried about its future than its past.”
“Still no valid connection to our Jane Doe,” Gillian reminded him. “So I'm still wondering why we're here.”
“I told you. I don't like it when a killer points me in a specific direction with a very obvious clue. Bugs the hell out of me.”
“Uh-huh. And so we're here. Again.”
Keane shrugged irritably. “I want to eliminate this place from our line of investigation.”
“I thought we pretty much had. Been here, done this. We haven't been able to find a soul who recognizes our Jane Doe, or any evidence that she was ever here.”
“I know. So why the hell did her killer want us looking in this direction?”
“Maybe sleight of hand,” Max offered as he joined them, accompanied by a thin, rather mousy-looking young woman with huge black-rimmed glasses and a solemn expression. “He could want you looking away from his real target.”
Sighing, Keane said, “With your collection out of the vaults and on exhibit, Max, it is the prime target for any thief in the city. Hell, maybe in the world. But, yeah, it could also be a distraction from something else.”
“Anything you need from us, just ask. Speaking of which, I wanted to introduce the museum's new assistant curator. Chloe Webster—Inspector Keane Tyler and Inspector Gillian Newman. Chloe just started today.”
They all made happy-to-meet-you noises, and then Chloe said, “Inspector Tyler, Mr. Dugan asked me to tell you that we'll have that list of contributors to the museum for you by the end of the day.”
“Thanks, Ms. Webster.”
Max said, “Reaching a bit, aren't you, Keane?”
“I'm reaching a mile. But until we I.D. our Jane Doe or eliminate any connection to the museum or this exhibit, we'll be checking every possibility.” Keane smiled wryly. “You have powerful friends, Max, and they all want to