Chapter 10

Hands on hips, Chance stood at the doorway of room 208 so that Winston could get a visual, through the camera Guerrero had installed, while he spoke to him.

"It's gone. Every single cedar crate that Ilsa and I found here a few hours ago has disappeared. I thought you said Claire was in the room for barely a moment."

"Sure did," Winston responded emphatically. "Chance, I tell you, no one else walked through that door since Guerrero installed the camera."

Chance believed him. He looked around the room. Okay so no one walked through the door - how else can you get in? He quickly walked up to the large bookcase against the wall and moved it a bit. Sure enough, there was a door behind the bookcase connecting to the custodian's storage room. Furious, Chance marched into the next room and looked around at all the cleaning equipment in there. He walked up to the janitor's cart and peeped inside the trashcan. It was pretty empty. He leaned inside and picked up bits of trash sitting in the bottom of the container. Sure enough, he found a few bits of cedar.

"Of course, what better way to transport stuff from one part of the museum to another; why be original" Chance exclaimed in disgust, and threw the pieces of trash back in.

The two men peeped into a few more rooms in the wing and made their way back to the party.

Guerrero was back at his post in the loading dock. He hadn't seen much action there thus far, but he knew better than to assume there would be none. Rossini was playing softly in the car, while he chewed on some celery and dip.

A while later he saw shadows lurking by the bay-doors. Two men came out wearing the red museum blazers worn by employees. They were waving their hands emphatically and were obviously in an argument. A woman came out a few minutes later, hands on hips, and seemed to be admonishing the two men. The three talked for a few minutes before walking back in. Guerrero got pictures of them and sent them to Winston.

"Oh yes, that's Claire. I suspect one of the guys must be Andrew. I will get Chance to confirm that. What do you think they are up to?"

"I think the van that comes to pick up the catering stuff, after the party, will make a secret delivery. Maybe I can follow them and see what happens."

"Yes, that's Andrew all right," Chance confirmed, looking at the picture forwarded to his cell phone by Winston. "Now that you have a picture of him, see if you can check his records. And tell Guerrero we are just observing the guys today. We don't want to catch them right now and scare off the rest of the network. We need to plan this so that we get everybody involved."

Chance walked up to Peter. "We are going to need a cover to hangout in the museum for a couple of days."

Peter promised to get that done.

Ilsa caught up with Chance and they got ready to leave.

Ilsa picked up her computer bag from her desk at the office. She got ready to leave. Chance walked her to the elevator.

"That was a fairly successful night!" Chance smiled at Ilsa, "Where is Ames, by the way?"

Ilsa laughed, "Peter offered to drop her off."

Chance raised his eyebrows, "And you don't mind?"

"Heavens, why should I! Peter is just a friend; I have known him a long time. He is a really sweet chap, and he and Ames are so adorable together!"

Chance grimaced at the mental picture that Ilsa was drawing. "Seriously, Peter and Ames? Can't imagine what they would have in common."

Ilsa shook her head disapprovingly at his comment. She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow, as they stood waiting for the elevator: "Well, opposites attract you know!"

As soon as she uttered the words, Ilsa regretted it. Chance was leaning against the wall, hands in pocket, grinning wickedly at her.

"Ah yes, the magnetic draw between opposites!" Chance took a step closer to Ilsa and looked into her embarrassed, brown eyes.

Very gently he leaned forward and began to kiss her. Ilsa put her hands on his shoulder and kissed him back slowly. When their lips parted, Ilsa looked up to see him stare at her - in amusement at first, but then very quickly there was that familiar shield that came up: He smiled at her looking uncertain and confused.

Ilsa stared at him for a moment and slowly smiled back, although the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She stroked his cheek with her fingers and whispered,

"Don't start something you aren't ready to follow-through, Chance."

Chance stared into her sad eyes, taken aback. But he said nothing.

The elevator door opened and Ilsa stepped inside. Chance stood hands in pocket staring at her, pondering over her words, as the doors closed between them.