Once a Thief by Kay Hooper Page A

time playing that card as long as Max is using a reputable security company and making every effort to protect the collection.”
    “But if we keep having these . . . anomalies? Would you play the card then?”
    “Maybe.”
    “Say you did play it. Would Max cancel?”
    “I don’t know,” Wolfe said. “I honestly don’t know. He gave his word the collection would go on display, and he’s hidebound about keeping his word. If I were a betting man, I’d bet the collection will go on display sooner or later.”
    Morgan sighed. “Then that’s what we’d better assume.”
    “Yeah. The
Mysteries Past
exhibit will open. Maybe not on time, but it will open.”

    Quinn was a thief. Morgan knew that. And stealing was wrong, she knew that too. A part of her even knew he was certainly a dangerous man, entirely capable of ruthlessness and quite probably capable of much worse.
    She knew.
    But there was something else she knew—and he knew, damn his eyes. Morgan knew there was, somehow, a connection between the two of them. She didn’t want to call it affinity, though it probably was, of a certain kind: an affinity of mind and wit, of humor, of swift understanding. Whatever it was, in a single night in a darkened, tense museum, it had very quickly created a bond, and that bond had left behind it an awareness that, try as she would, she couldn’t deny existed.
    He had made her admit she could sense his presence, and once that admission was out in the open, Morgan found herself trying to do just that. The scary thing was that at least once on Monday morning, she was absolutely positive Quinn was in the museum—and watching her. But it was a very busy morning, and with so many people around, she couldn’t pick him out of the crowd.
    Not, she thought irritably, that he’d
let
her pick him out of the crowd.
    “Morgan, can you—Hey, sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
    She hugged her clipboard and stared up at Wolfe. “It’s okay. I was just . . . woolgathering.”
    Eyeing her, he said, “Seemed to me you were looking for somebody.”
    “No. No, I was just lost in thought. Did you need me for something?”
    “Yeah, I need that list you have of all the workmen we have building the display cases.”
    “Why? They’ve all been approved by you and Max.”
    “I know, but I want to run another security check.” He shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.”
    Morgan searched through the thick stack of papers her clipboard held, then produced the list he wanted. “Here you go. I have another copy in my files, so you can keep this one.”
    “Great, thanks.”
    She knew she shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t even bring up the subject, but heard herself saying, “Wolfe . . . do you think Quinn really is planning to steal part of the collection?”
    “With his nerve, he may well be planning to steal all of it.”
    “One man couldn’t
carry
all of it.” She thought about it and felt uneasy. “At least, not without absolutely no guards to worry about and an entire night with the doors wide open. And a big truck.”
    “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t put it past him. We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”
    “I guess so.” Morgan watched him head back toward the offices, adding under her breath, “We’ll just have to wait and see.”
     
    The meeting took place on Monday night and fairly late, as Quinn’s meetings tended to do, and if he was something less than his usual cheerful self, the man he was meeting either didn’t notice or else simply made no mention of it.
    “The new technician arrives next week?” Quinn asked in lieu of a greeting.
    “That’s the plan.”
    “All set to design and implement a brand-new security system in the museum.”
    “Anything less would look suspicious.”
    “It won’t make my job any easier.”
    “You knew it wouldn’t be easy when you signed on. Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t that the point?”
    “Challenging I bargained for; untenable wasn’t part of the