Caught. Kristin Hardy
of frustration. “So? It’s an antique. How hard can it be? We get some tools and we pick it.”
“You can’t pick it. The key’s in the way. You can’t reach the tumblers.”
Alex reached for her wire. “Then we push the key out.”
“You can’t,” she said faintly. “Once it’s locked, you’ve got to turn the key back a full revolution to get it out of the keyhole. The end of the key has these flanges….”
He eyed Julia. “You’re not being very helpful.”
“It’s an incredibly complex but an incredibly good lock. That’s why they left it in place during all the renovations. There’s a line of safes over in the UK that are based on this design.”
“Well, we’ve got to figure out a way to get out.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. We’re not going to get out through that door without help.” She swallowed. “We’re locked in.”
ALLARD WALKED DOWN the street in the gathering twilight, sleek and satisfied as a cat with a dish of cream. She was his again, his. The days and nights of frustration meant nothing. Now he had only to slide his hand into his pocket to feel her, warm and smooth against his fingers.
It had been laughably easy to stay in the museum undetected, to watch, to wait. He’d expected to break into the woman’s office once night had fallen and the guards retired to their control room. Who’d have guessed she would make it so easy for him, walking out of her office with a box that so obviously held something precious?
Instinct had told him to follow. And there, his impatience had nearly betrayed him, when he’d almost found himself stumbled upon by the lovesick fool on her heels. Idiot, he could hear his father’s sneer. Amateur. Only quick reactions had let Jean whisk out of sight in the stairwell to pursue the woman’s pursuer.
Ultimately, it had been to his advantage, for he’d seen the cameras as the young fool had opened the door to the basement. Of course, a clever man carried a small, telescoping steel rod for just such occasions, a rod that could nudge a camera a crucial fraction of an inch, enough to leave a small area unmonitored without making a change large enough to alert the guards.
Once he’d done that, it had been easy to move down the hall undetected, to find them. Of course, taking the amulet had been almost no challenge at all with the two so absorbed in one another. Bah. Only a weak man lost sight of the world because of a woman. And weak men made mistakes—mistakes that could help him.
He’d listened as their discussion had quieted, crept into the outer room as they’d touched one another among the books. And he’d watched a moment, as any man would, savoring the gleam of the woman’s bare breasts and feeling his body tighten as she moaned.
But he had not come there for pleasure. He’d come for the amulet, and when he’d opened the box to see the glowing ivory of the White Star, he’d nearly shouted aloud in triumph. He hadn’t, though. Instead, he’d tucked the box into his jacket and stolen to the door, turning the key behind him. He’d already taken a moment to provide them with a few…challenges.
And now, he was on the street in the growing darkness, the place he had always felt most strong. And he was strong. He’d recovered his prize. She would bring him pleasure, she would bring him respect.
And she would bring him rewards beyond measure.
JULIA’S FISTS ACHED from hammering the heavy oak door. Tired and hoarse from yelling, she tucked her little fingers in her mouth and blasted a shrill whistle.
Alex paused in what he was doing to give her a startled glance. “Where’d you learn that?”
“Summer camp.”
“Not just another nice society girl,” he observed.
She hammered at the door again, cursing a blue streak. Alex raised his eyebrows. “Definitely not another nice society girl.”
“I can’t believe no one’s coming.”
“It’s Friday night,” he said mildly. “Everyone’s long gone.”
“Did you try the other phones?” she asked.
“Dead,” he said.
“How can every single phone in the place be out?” she fumed, picking up a receiver only to slam it down.
He snapped his fingers. “Not every phone,” he said, spinning toward the book repository.
“Wait.” Julia scampered after him.
Alex snatched his jacket from the floor. “I am such an idiot. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before.” Digging into the breast pocket, he pulled out a slim silver cell phone. “Ladies and gentlemen—” he flourished it “—we bring you rescue, courtesy of your local wireless network.”
“That’s not your regular phone.”
“I upgraded,” he said with relish. “I’ve got half of my CD collection loaded in this baby, plus it’s got a high- res camera and it’s Web-enabled.”
She gave him the same look his mother had given him in fourth grade when he’d listed the many attributes of a new Transformer he absolutely required. “Does it tie your shoes for you, also?”
“When I need it to.” A succession of images flowed across the screen as it booted up. “But the best part is that it gives me serious connectivity.” He punched up the number and held the phone to his ear.
“For a mover and shaker like yourself, a must.”
“Hey, you never know when Blaine Trump will be calling to donate a few hundred grand.” His brows drew together as he studied the screen.
“What?”
He walked out into the main lab, holding the phone in front of him and watching the display. “Just trying to get a signal.”
“Tell me you’re joking.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll get it,” he said, trying different areas of the room.
“And security’s going to be by any minute.”
“They might,” he said reasonably. “Sometimes the signal comes and goes.”
“And right now it’s mostly going, right?”
They stared at each other.
“Maybe in a little while,” he said, setting it down on one of the tables.
“Don’t set that down and forget where you put it,” Julia said. “We might need it later. Why don’t you have a belt clip?”
He sent her a revolted look. “You’re joking, right? Only tech-support dweebs at Computers R Us wear belt clips.”
“Which you are not.”
“Which I, most definitely, am not. My phone’ll be just fine here,” he said, setting it on the table. And then he stared beyond it. “What is that?” he asked warily.
“Where?”
“There. On the table.” He pointed to a long form lying on a wheeled table behind the sarcophagus and shrouded in translucent plastic.
Enjoyment glimmered in her eyes. “That’s Felix.”
“Felix?”
“Our new mummy.”
Alex pressed his lips together and walked over closer to it. “A mummy. You mean like a four-thousand-year-old dead-guy mummy?”
“Thirty-five hundred in this case, we think, but yes. We just got him in a few days ago.”
“Can I look at him?”
“You might not want to,” she