Free Once a Thief by Kay Hooper Page A

found herself hesitating and swore inwardly when she realized it. Keeping her voice dry, she said, “I told you to cut the act. In the first place, you’re a thief, which is something I’m not at all in sympathy with. In the second place, I happen to be the director of an exhibit that must be calling to you like a siren song. And in the third place, any woman would need her head examined, by an expert, if she for one single minute believed anything you said.”
    He was smiling again. “Suppose I were to say it wasn’t an act, Morgana. Suppose I denied any interest in
Mysteries Past
and assured you I am to be trusted completely.”
    “I wouldn’t believe you,” she said stolidly.
    White teeth flashed again as Quinn smiled at her. “Very wise of you, Morgana. Very wise indeed.”
    Morgan eyed him with more uneasiness than she wanted him to see. “So you are after the Bannister collection.”
    “I didn’t say that, sweet.”
    “Oh, yeah, like you’d really come right out and tell me the truth about it. Me, the director of the exhibit.”
    “That wouldn’t be at all wise of me, would it?” Quinn said, in a tone of surprised realization. He folded his arms across his chest and made a considering sound. “You’re probably right, Morgana. Why don’t we pretend the subject never came up?”
    “Why don’t we pretend it did? Quinn, if you think I’m going to just stand by and let you get your thieving hands on Max’s collection, you’re nuts.”
    “Well, actually, Morgana, you wouldn’t be there at the time. Hypothetically speaking, of course.”
    “I mean—you
know
what I mean.” She shook her head. “Why am I even standing here talking to you?”
    “My question would be—why did you come
out
to talk to me?”
    Morgan stared at him, conscious of a different uneasiness now. “I just . . . I thought I heard something.”
    “No,” Quinn said.
    “I did. I thought I heard a noise out here. That’s why I came back outside.”
    “You didn’t hear anything, sweet. I was standing here not making a sound.”
    “I didn’t say it was you I heard,” she snapped.
    Quinn laughed softly. “You aren’t going to admit it, are you, Morgana?”
    “Admit what?”
    “Admit that you feel it when I’m nearby. That you can sense my presence.”
    “That’s ridiculous. I don’t—” Morgan stared at him, suddenly remembering her feelings of anxiety at different times in the museum. “Wait a minute. You haven’t already found a way into the museum. Have you?”
    “Do you really expect me to answer that?” he asked in mild surprise. But before she could respond, he did answer her question, his voice unusually serious. “I’ve been inside the museum during hours, like any other visitor. As for the night . . . let’s just say I’ve been keeping an eye on most of the museums in this city.”
    “Picking your next target?”
    “Trying to size up my competition. That gang we both encountered the other night.”
    “You know who’s behind them?”
    “No. Not yet.”
    “And if you find out? What then? You’ll tip the police to get them out of your way?”
    He chuckled. “That would be the smart thing to do, wouldn’t it?”
    “Is that what you’re planning, Quinn?”
    “That,” he answered, “depends on who’s behind them, sweet.”
    “Stop calling me that,” she said, more or less automatically. “Do you think that gang has targeted the Bannister collection?”
    “I think it would be astonishing if they haven’t. But it will be weeks yet before you need worry about them, sweet. Or about me, for that matter. The Bannister collection is still safely hidden away in the vaults that have protected it for decades.”
    “Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel better,” Morgan said slowly. “I guess it would be . . . naive of me to expect you to stay away from the collection just because I’m asking you to.”
    “Can you sense it when I’m near, Morgana?”
    She stared up at him, caught by those