License to Thrill

door to the restoration area.
    "I need to get back to my rounds," Ronald said, backing away from them.
    "We'll take it from here," James assured him.
    Kat walked in first, turning on lights as she went and looking around the sterile room, which resembled a medical lab. Looking for what, she didn't know.
    "Give us a brief tour," James said, his gaze sweeping the room, missing nothing, she was sure.
    She showed him each of the four large rooms, including a tiled area with aluminum fixtures and a long, narrow storage room lined with containers of all kinds—cleaners, paints, turpentine.
    "We've circled back around, haven't we?" James asked, almost to himself, his head pivoting as he walked.
    Kat looked around to gain her bearings. "You're right—on the other side of that wall"—she pointed to the row of supply-laden cabinets—"is the painting vault."
    James and Tenner headed for the wall at the same time. The men exchanged glances, then both started pulling supplies from the floor-to-ceiling metal shelves.
    "Well, what do you know," Tenner said. He swung out an emptied section of shelving, revealing a sliding panel the size of a three-drawer file cabinet that led to a closet-size lab.
    "I'm afraid I'll have to stop you right there," a menacing voice called from behind them.
    James froze, then turned around slowly to see Andy Wharton standing beside Kat, holding a pistol at shoulder level, aimed directly at her left ear. His heart jumped to his throat, and he drew blood from his tongue.
    "Wait a minute, Wharton," Tenner said, raising his arm slowly. "Forgery and burglary will only get you a few months—murder is another matter altogether."
    "Then I guess I just blew it," Andy said, his mouth twisting into a grin. "Because Beaman is lying in the hall with a bullet in him." He laughed. "I insisted on maximum soundproofing when these walls were built."
    "And the other guard?" James asked.
    "She's tied up, but she'll die in the fire."
    "The fire?" he pressed, trying to stall.
    "Oh, yeah," Andy said with confidence. "This whole place has to go. Does anyone have something to start a fire with?" He glanced at the shelves packed with flammable solvents and laughed.
    Kat’s gaze darted sideways, then back to him, her eyes wide and terrified. James nodded to her, trying to comfort her with his eyes and hide the fact that he was shaking inside. He'd nearly watched her die yesterday—he wasn't about to watch her be executed today.
    He jerked his head to indicate the panel they'd uncovered. "Soundproof walls—so you could work undetected in your little lab?" he asked, his voice unbelievably casual.
    "Yeah," Andy said with pride in his voice.
    "I’m guessing there’s another hidden door from your lab to the vault?” he asked to keep the man talking.
    "Uh-huh. I could take things out for hours at a time and no one even suspected. Ingenious, wasn't it?"
    "You're right, Mr. Wharton," James said agreeably. "We quite underestimated you. I have to admit, you fooled many people for a rather long time. Except perhaps Mr. McKray." He saw Kat's eyes close and prayed she wouldn't faint. Wharton looked so wild-eyed, he might shoot at the first movement.
    The man frowned, and his hand dropped an inch. "Frank was starting to get in the way, being a little too nosy for his own good, so I fixed his brakes."
    Kat looked as if she were going to be ill.
    James nodded to the man sympathetically. "He found out you were behind the embezzling—I suppose you needed start-up funds?"
    Andy pursed his lips. "Someone told me you were smart."
    Conjuring up his most charming smile, James moved his hands to his waist. His gun was at his back, beneath his jacket, but he wasn't going to risk any quick movements. "Which brings me to another point," James said, shaking his head. "How you were able to branch out internationally—I'm dying to meet your London connection."
    Andy's grin was slow and sweet. "Are you now?"
    "Tania," James called, "you might as well show yourself."
    After a few seconds of silence, he heard the sound of a woman's heels clicking on the tiled floor in the other room. Tania Mercer appeared, dressed in a black pantsuit and boots, her hair tucked beneath a black beret, holding a box of long matches. "James, darling, I hate to see it come to this."
    James smiled sadly. "You wanted me out of England because you knew I had been asked to work on the Webster museum case in London."
    She raised her lovely hands in a shrug. "You're the