Always a Thief - Kay Hooper [37]
“Sorry to make your job harder.”
“You aren't making it harder.” The words were barely out of his mouth when the alarms were set off for the third time that afternoon. Keane winced. “But this fancy security system Storm designed is giving me a hell of a headache.”
The alarms were swiftly silenced, and they all heard a nearby guard's walkie-talkie mutter, “Clear. All clear.”
“We're still making adjustments,” Max admitted, smiling faintly.
“I better go check on . . . Excuse me—” Chloe left them rather hurriedly.
“She's more nervous than you are,” Keane observed to Max.
“She's young and it's her first important job.” Max paused before adding, “She may quit when she finds out about our latest . . . wrinkle.”
Keane was immediately alert. “What is it?”
“I know we agreed that searching the storage areas in a building this size and complexity was a fairly useless exercise and that you pulled your people out of the basement, but I asked Wolfe and some of the extra guards to take a look around anyway. A few minutes ago they found something.”
“What?” Gillian asked.
“A message,” Max said.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Morgan strolled through the exhibit wing, casual but watchful, studying visitor reactions to the various displays as well as noting potential traffic bottlenecks as particular pieces of the Bannister collection drew more interest than others. The display cases had been designed specifically for the individual pieces or groups of similarly themed pieces and were very carefully lighted, so each case showed off its contents beautifully.
The exhibit was actually made up of four connected rooms within the wing, with the display cases—freestanding and lining the walls—helping to direct the flow of people smoothly through the expansive space. There were a few benches scattered about, but the idea was to keep people moving, and the careful design appeared to be doing its job well.
Morgan jotted several notes to herself, reminders to see about more lighting for one corner; an extra velvet rope to redirect traffic through a particular room; and to have an inconveniently placed bench moved from its present location.
She answered a few questions from people who knew she was the director of the exhibit, returned a few lost children to their parents, and coped with a couple more accidentally triggered alarms.
Earlier in the day she had spoken to Max and Wolfe, but both seemed to have disappeared by late afternoon. She hadn't seen any sign of Jared, which didn't surprise her. Jared, like Quinn, would undoubtedly spend more nights than days in the vicinity of the museum, since the thief they were intent on luring was virtually guaranteed to make his move during the dark hours.
Morgan had thought about that only fleetingly during the day, partly because she kept herself busy and partly because the deadly danger Nightshade was famous for was something she didn't like to think about. She did her job briskly and professionally and tried to avoid looking for tall blond cat burglars.
It wasn't until nearly six o'clock, when the museum's visitors were beginning to make their way toward the exits and she was doing a final walk-through of the exhibit for the day, that she saw Quinn.
He was standing alone at the central and most elaborate display case the exhibit could boast, the one holding the clear star of the show, the spectacular Bolling diamond. He was dressed casually in dark slacks and a cream-colored turtleneck sweater, with a black leather jacket worn open. Hands in his pockets, head bent, he stood gazing intently at the priceless seventy-five-carat teardrop canary diamond in the display case. And maybe it was the special lighting of the case that made his face look shadowed, as if it were hollowed with hunger—or avarice.
Then again, maybe the lighting had nothing to do with it.
Morgan paused in the doorway of the room and watched him silently, uneasy. The last few visitors in this area wandered past her, talking, and she nodded automatically