Always a Thief - Kay Hooper [84]
As she gazed at it now, Morgan's uneasiness began to increase. The clipboard had been in Ken's office on Saturday, she remembered. It had been in Ken's office, where both he and Chloe had worked that day. Why had it been there? She'd forgotten to ask either Ken or Chloe, but now that she thought about it, she couldn't think of a reason why either of them would have needed any of this information. And . . . Ken had always been around whenever Alex was watching someone, she remembered.
It seemed ridiculous to even consider—but when Alex had said that Nightshade couldn't go after the Bannister collection alone, he'd also said that one reason was because of a lack of electronic skill. What if there was another reason? What if Nightshade dared not use his own inside knowledge, his own security key card and alarm codes, to get at the exhibit in his own museum?
God, how ironic that would be! To have such a prize underneath his very nose and know that if he touched it he risked the police being suspicious of it being an inside job. In that situation, Morgan could believe that the arrival of Quinn would be a godsend. To use that other skilled thief's knowledge, to let him find a way past the security—and take the blame for the resulting robbery.
And what would be the risk for Nightshade? Quinn might know his identity, but Nightshade also knew who Quinn really was—and that mutual knowledge kept them both relatively safe from each other, at least as far as public disclosure was concerned.
It was possible, Morgan thought. It was definitely possible. She couldn't imagine Ken gloating in secret over his cache of priceless objects, or holding a chloroform-soaked cloth over her face, or shooting Quinn as they both crept through the night—but then, she couldn't imagine it of Leo either. In fact, she couldn't imagine it of anyone she knew.
After a while, she locked the clipboard up in her desk and left her office, locking the door behind her. She glanced across the hall into Ken's open office, and for a moment she didn't move a muscle. Then, slowly, she headed toward the lobby, pulling on her mask of tranquillity as she prepared to tell Ken that the repairman was on his way.
She thought she'd be able to keep all her thoughts and speculations to herself. She hoped. But she couldn't help wondering if anyone else had noticed the drooping rose in a crystal bud vase on Ken's desk.
It was only a little after eleven that night when Alex began dressing to leave her, after explaining that he had to return to his hotel briefly. Morgan lay and watched him dress, admiring and unself-conscious. She thought he was beautiful. She also thought he was wired, even after he'd expended a considerable amount of energy in their bed.
“Is it tonight?” she asked quietly.
He sat on the side of the bed and looked at her steadily. “I don't know, Morgana. Perhaps.”
“If you knew, would you tell me?”
He leaned over to kiss her. “Probably not,” he admitted with a slight smile. “There's no reason for you to worry, sweet. No reason at all.”
Morgan eyed him. “I guess you heard me tell Ken that a repairman was coming for the air-conditioning system?”
“I heard.”
She was getting better at reading him, she decided; there had been a flicker of reaction in his green eyes. She was suddenly positive that something was going to happen tonight.
“Alex—”
He kissed her again, then rose quickly to his feet. “I'll be back by morning. Sleep well.”
Morgan didn't reach to turn off the lamp on the nightstand, even though she was physically weary. Instead, she gazed at the doorway, acutely conscious of his absence, and tried to get her thoughts organized.
Tonight. It was tonight. And, somehow, the air- conditioning system at the museum was important. Because it had malfunctioned? Because it had been repaired? She assumed it had, anyway; Ken and Wolfe had decided to remain at the museum until the repair work was finished. But if Ken was Nightshade