Free Truth by Julia Karr

and storage areas, were dead zones. And because of the fragility of many of the pieces, there was no surveillance at all in the storeroom. Damn.
    “Martin. Since this room is protected, how will I know if the hospital calls?” I really wanted to stay at work, but I couldn’t risk missing a call about Gran.
    “M’dear, I’ve thought of almost everything it takes to protect the art. And Percy, bless his little self, has thought of everything it takes to protect me. Don’t you know? He loves me. I know, we’re talking about necessities. Although”—he leaned toward me, affecting a very serious look—“love is definitely a necessity.”
    I pursed my lips. “I’m not too sure about that.”
    “Uh-oh. You’re too young to be cynical about love. But that is a conversation for another day. Let’s attend to the conundrum at hand. Surveillance shields—taken care of, like so.” He moved a lever on the side of the light on my desk. “Up, no surveillance.” He pressed it again. “Down, surveillance.”
    “What does it do?”
    “It turns the safety shield off and on. Percy’s always been afraid that I would get trapped in here by Lord knows what. An earthquake? A flood? A marauding band of river rats? And I wouldn’t be able to call for help. Anyway, since B.O.S.S. taps into everything . . .” He checked the light. “Up. We’re safe. Because the entire downtown is bombarded with whatever electromagnetic folderol they use, all exhibit areas and storage rooms in the Institute are protected by shields. Only security can turn them on and off, except for this room.” He lifted his eyebrows. “Percy’s a peach, don’t you know?”
    “But won’t B.O.S.S. or Security notice?”
    “Not if you aren’t in here making noise. If the hospital calls, go out to the hallway. You’ll be fine. Just don’t forget to turn the shield back on. And don’t tell anyone about it. Our secret.”
    “Not a word.” I would be able to stay and still get the hospital’s call. Things were looking up.
    “If you’re absolutely sure you want to work today . . .” he said.
    “Yes, I really need to be busy.”
    “As long as it doesn’t involve packing up boxes, right?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Well, no packing today, although you may be required to ready objets d’art for shipment to another museum.”
    “I think I can handle that.”
    “If that’s the case, let us go to the Chinese artifacts room. I need to get a little something to take with me to the Winnackers. Have to keep the patrons happy. And, nothing makes Iona happier than, well . . . a clean sofa”—he chuckled—“and the loan of something ancient and unique. Rather like me—well aged and idiosyncratic.” He made a silly face.
    Martin was such an interesting mixture of down-to-earth, kind of pretentious, and really goofy, I couldn’t help but like him.
    “Come now. We’ll traverse the secrets of the maze of the museum. There is surveillance in these corridors.” Shifting his eyes back and forth like a comic detective, he led me to a door I’d never noticed before. Probably because it was covered by a thick tapestry. On the other side of the door, tunnels snaked out in several directions. “We’re behind the walls now,” Martin said. “From here you can gain access to every exhibit hall, to the vaults in the basement, and even up to the helipad on the roof. In case you ever need to make a quick getaway.”
    “Just what I was looking for,” I joked. “I’ll let my helio pilot know to park there next time.”
    As we padded through the dimly lit corridors, I said, “It’s a good thing you’re here. I would be so lost if I were alone.”
    “Exactly why I needed a new assistant. Last one was sent off to Egyptian antiquities and hasn’t been seen or heard from in months.”
    It was a struggle to keep my jaw from dropping open. “Are you—” Then I noticed the twinkle in his eyes.
    “Gotcha! Didn’t I?”
    “Yes!” My insides