Free Always a Thief by Kay Hooper

“No. You know I'm a quick healer.”
    “Even for a quick healer, that was a nasty wound. You probably should have stayed at Morgan's longer than a few days.”
    “No,” Quinn said. “I shouldn't have done that.”
    After a moment, Jared said, “So, Max was right.”
    “About what?”
    “Don't be deliberately dense, Alex.”
    Quinn resisted the impulse to ask if he could be accidentally dense. “Max is very perceptive—but he isn't always right. As for Morgan, let's just say that I have enough common sense for both of us.”
    “And no time for romance?”
    “And no time for romance.” Quinn wondered, not for the first time, if becoming such an accomplished liar had been a good thing or a bad one. It might have kept his skin intact a bit longer, he thought, but sooner or later it was all going to catch up with him—and a great many people would no doubt be furious at him.
    Jared seemed to be thinking along the same lines.
    “We've been amazingly lucky so far,” he said. “But you really can't afford to get in any deeper with Morgan.”
    “I know that.”
    “She knows too much already.”
    Quinn drew a deep breath but kept his voice light. “Pardon me for not thinking too clearly when I was bleeding. I'll try to do better next time.”
    “I'm not blaming you for that.”
    “Too kind.”
    Jared swore under his breath. “Look, all I'm saying is that we're running out of time. You really
don't
have the leisure—or the right—to pull any woman into a situation like this, especially when you're dealing with someone as deadly as Nightshade.”
    Calmer now, Quinn said quietly, “Yes. You're right, I know that. And I am trying.”
    Deciding that it was time to change the subject, Jared said, “Well, we do have other things to think about. The police have their preliminary reports on the Jane Doe, and the ballistics report on the bullet the doc dug out of your shoulder came in.”
    “And?”
    “Current thinking is that the Jane Doe isn't one of Nightshade's victims. She was stabbed, for one thing. For another, he never bothers to try and delay identification of his victims. Given that and where she was found, it seems unlikely that Nightshade killed her.”
    “Not his style. And that so-called clue left on the body sounds even less like him.”
    Jared said, “I just found out about that myself. How did you find out?”
    “I often know things I'm not supposed to know. How do you think I was able to keep one jump ahead of the police for so many years?” Quinn shook his head. “Don't worry—there's no leak in the police department here. Or in Interpol, for that matter.”
    Deciding not to ask, Jared merely said, “Still no I.D. on that body, by the way. No match in the missing-persons database. The forensics specialists are trying to get a viable fingerprint, but so far no luck. Nobody's recognized her photo within blocks of the area where she was found. The only thing the police are certain of is that her killer is pointing them toward the museum. Whether as a distraction or a taunt, not even the police shrinks are willing to guess.”
    “What's your guess?”
    “It's obvious and meant to look obvious. It also points at the museum, but not specifically at the
Mysteries Past
exhibit.” Jared paused, then shook his head. “We don't know a thief killed her, so pointing the police toward the museum could be something as simple—and as sick—as a joke. Her death could have absolutely nothing to do with the museum or the exhibit. But the police have to follow the lead, so . . . That's a hell of a big building. Impossible for the police to search completely.”
    “And they're wasting a lot of time trying.”
    “Maybe. They've questioned virtually everyone connected to the museum, showed them a photo of the Jane Doe. So far, nobody admits to having seen her, in the museum or outside it. The police are beginning to think her killer was just trying to throw them off the scent, that she has nothing at all