License to Thrill

specific goal. What's the letter worth?"
    Guy worked his mouth as he pondered the question. "It has yet to be authenticated, so right now, on the black market to a serious collector—maybe twenty thousand."
    "Is it insured?" the detective pressed.
    Guy deferred to Kat with a glance and she nodded. "By a European fine arts insurer. I believe I remember seeing the figure of twenty-five thousand on the paperwork."
    Tenner popped his gum. "And what would it go for if it's real?"
    Guy shrugged. "It depends—interest in the letter is running high right now—I know the Handelman family is prepared to pay two hundred fifty thousand. In a heated auction, it could bring five hundred thousand or more."
    The detective nodded. Pop, pop went the gum. "Okay, so how did the thief get inside the vault?"
    "No sign of forced entry," a tall, trim guard said quickly. "They had to have a badge for one of the museum entrances and also for the vault."
    Eyebrows raised, Tenner asked, "And you are?"
    "Ronald Beaman," the man answered. "Head of security here at the museum."
    "And how many staff members have access to the vault?"
    "Only a handful of senior staff members—maybe five or six, including Ms. McKray and Mr. Trent. We can check the electronic log to see whose badge was used." He motioned to two of the guards and they disappeared, presumably in search of the log.
    "I'll need fingerprints lifted inside the vault," Detective Tenner piped in.
    "Which should corroborate the film," James said, pointing to a camera mounted high on the wall.
    Beaman winced. "Well, not necessarily. We've been having trouble lately with the cameras, but if we're lucky, maybe we caught something." James resisted the urge to roll his eyes and joined the others as they followed the security officer through a maze of hallways and small rooms to a security console.
    It took Guy and Ronald Beaman several minutes to find the correct camera monitor and rewind the tape. While they were waiting, Andy Wharton arrived. With his hair loose around his shoulders and looking none too tidy, he'd clearly just rolled out of bed.
    "Is everyone all right?"
    Guy nodded, then waved impatiently toward the monitor.
    Everyone crowded in for a look, and James made room for Kat in front of him, enjoying the slight brush of their bodies. But she was completely absorbed in the video, trying to hide the nervous shaking of her hands.
    Ron Beaman fast-forwarded the gritty, static-plagued film at a moderate speed until they saw a figure appear, then he pushed the play button, and everyone leaned closer. James's eyes immediately darted to the time on the film. Twelve thirty-seven a.m.
    They watched as the person walked up the hall in semidarkness, becoming larger and a bit clearer as the distance to the camera closed. It appeared to be a woman. James frowned, thinking something about the person seemed familiar to him, then his breath froze at the same time he felt Kat's body stiffen.
    The person's face was hidden by a large, floppy hat, but dark, shoulder-length hair swept over the collar of a belted all-weather coat, identical to the one he'd seen tossed onto a chair earlier this evening. Gloves covered the woman's hands, and she was wearing a skirt that hung lower than the coat, but not long enough to cover slender ankles and clunky high-heeled shoes—just like the ones Kat had been wearing yesterday. The woman badged into the vault room with the confidence of someone familiar with the procedure.
    "Kat?" Andy whispered, lowering horn-rimmed glasses for a better look at the screen.
    "Kat?" Guy sputtered incredulously. "You were in the vault after midnight?"
    "No!" she gasped, concern in her voice. "That's not me."
    They continued to watch the distorted tape in palpable silence, and within a few seconds the figure emerged from the vault with the environmentally controlled box beneath her arm. And even though the woman's face was still shrouded, James caught the glimpse of something shiny beneath the hat as the figure turned. Spectacles? His eyes darted to Kat's wire-rimmed glasses just as she pushed them higher on her nose.
    Guy turned to Kat. "What the hell is going on here?"
    James studied her reactions carefully. Kat was still staring at the video, watching the figure retreat down the hall and disappear off camera. "I have no idea, but that is not me."
    At that moment, two security guards rejoined them. "Here's the log, Mr. Trent."
    Guy snatched it from their hands and ran his finger