Author's Note: Thanks Mercedes, artychick7, and whovian42 for your kind replies. I truly do appreciate them. As much as I enjoy writing, hearing from readers is always a pleasure. There's only one chapter after this. I've already edited it and it should be up in a few days.

In Play

There was a smell.

Parker sniffed the air. Not exactly rotten, but definitely not fresh. It kind of reminded her of that sweet, musty scent often found in forgotten storage rooms of old museums. A thousand years of dust on decaying cloth and paper. A little breeze shifted through the alley and carried the smell up to where the thief hung from a fire escape ladder. She hadn't noticed the odor at ground level.

From her high vantage point, she looked from one end of the the alley to another. The rumpled figure that had wandered through a few minutes earlier, prompting the change in scenery was no where to be seen.

She shifted on her perch, but the old fire escape, rusted from years of neglect clanged and vibrations rattled through it with even the slightest movement. "Shh," she whispered and shot the metal a sharp look.

Twenty minutes ago, Eliot had reported in and said he was on his way.

Nineteen minutes ago, she had grown bored of waiting and started to look for an alternative entrance.

Eighteen minutes ago, Nate told her to wait for Eliot.

The sound of foot falls drew her attention and she shifted carefully so not to rattle the old metal. She smiled when she recognized the approaching figure. Gripping the ladder, she flung her legs forward, somersaulting through the air, and landed easily on the rough ground in front of Eliot.

"About time."

"You were supposed to wait at the hotel," was the gruff response. Eliot shifted the strap of a canvas tool bag on his shoulder, but didn't slow his pace until he reached the back entrance to Home Keepers. Producing a jangling key ring from his jacket pocket, he unlocked the dead bolt and door.

"I could have picked those to save time," Parker said.

Eliot wordlessly held up the keys in one hand while he opened the door with his other. He let it swing all the way open and looked down the empty corridor. The overhead light left nothing to the imagination.

He then gestured toward the door leading to the front office. Parker nodded in understanding and held back while Eliot unlocked the workroom door. Inside, he dropped off the tool bag.

The door to the front office opened a crack. "Hello?" Stephanie called out.

Parker ducked into the workroom, while Eliot stepped out into the corridor. He reached back and tossed the thief the keys. "Second door to the right," he whispered before turning his attention to the woman at the end of the corridor. He gave Stephanie a slightly startled look. "I guess I'm not the only one working late today."

"I'm just here for another thirty minutes. Mary had an appointment so she can't be on call until seven. How did the Kravitz job go?"

"There was more damage than Paul's write up," Eliot said easily as he walked toward the waiting woman. "Took more time, but I don't think she'll fall through the step anytime soon." Stealing a glance at each darkened room he passed, he waited until he was at the open door. "Hey, since the office is open, do you mind if I look up something in the phonebook?"

"Oh, sure, no problem," Stephanie said as she opened the white door wide and let Eliot through.

Parker stuck her head out into the open corridor when she heard the door close. Leaving the keys on a nail inside the work room and certain that the woman was well occupied, she crossed to Paul's office.

Tools in hand, the simple lock gave without any effort. "That wasn't any fun."

Seriously?

Alec Hardison looked at his phone again and then up at the high ceiling of the not so well lit room. The website he had looked at for the Patterson Museum of American Art had been more promising. Not much, mind you, as there wasn't much to the small, two story building filled with galleries that looked more like flea markets than art displays.

He looked up again at the giant stuffed buffalo head that was glaring down at him. Shaking his head, he decided then and there he never wanted to come across a live one.

The only thing worse than the gallery of dead things filled with sawdust was the elevator music that permeated the museum. He had looked around for the source of coma-inducing sound, but only got eyed suspiciously by the museum staff. Not that they had anything to worry about, there wasn't anything worth stealing.

Seriously, what was he going to do? Tie the buffalo head to the top of Lucille? Nuh uh, no way. And those fake squirrels nailed to the fake tree with their creepy little black glass eyes? It was like the setting for some weird horror movie.

Looking for better surroundings, he weaved through a corridor to the next gallery. Paintings. A little more his speed. Well, at least not as disturbing.

He spied Sophie chit-chatting with a well-dressed couple.

After a bit, the grifter drew close. She looked about. "I've been in worse," she said in a low tone.

"Security's a joke." He activated his phone and studied the data splayed across the screen. Whispering. "I'm not even sure the alarm system works."

From their vantage point, they could see the entrance lobby through a wide, arched doorway. More people were arriving. "I don't mean to be undermining your mojo, but are you sure they bought into it?"

Sophie patted his arm. "Have faith."

Another scan of the busy room. There were a lot of people milling around, gathering in little groups discussing the various forms of support Community Hope offered. Amongst the well-dressed, there were also a lot of little grey heads. "They are taking their sweet time showing up." He studied the mobile again, checking the various traffic cameras he had hacked into.

Sophie shifted close and looked at the screen. "They aren't at the offices, so surely they are on their way. Besides, Eliot and Parker aren't back yet."

Hardison grinned. "Forgive me for my lack of faith." He nodded toward the main doors. "Incoming," Hardison said as he quickly blacked the screen and pocketed the phone as Lauren and Paul walked in.

Flipping back her dark hair, Sophie adjusted her dress as she focused on the arriving guests. "I'll take care of our friends." She painted a smile on and started for the couple.

"Thanks, darling."

That's all it took for a blush to rise to Stephanie's cheeks as she sank behind the desk. "Have a good evening," she responded.

Eliot nodded and closed the white door behind him. He huffed tiredly as he turned his attention down the empty hall. Pausing to note the slight burn, he checked his still discolored hand. One of the scabs over a knuckle had cracked and bright red threaded through it.

Passing quietly through the corridor, he noted that Paul's office was dark. At the workroom, he found the thief waiting.

"That wasn't even a challenge. Just a little Glenn-Reider 1400 model. I could have done that blindfolded." She brightened. "Blindfolded and upside down."

Eliot just shook his head. He opened the back door and thief skipped out into the alley. "I hope you found something," he said.

"Oh, I did!" she beamed. She held up a knotted blue handkerchief.

Recognizing the dual-tone pattern, Eliot checked his work coat pockets. "Parker?"

"I borrowed it," she said. "I think I found some of the missing pieces from Rose's list. She'll be so happy!" She put a little distance between her and the hitter. "Rose's ring, I mean, our ring, was in there, and there were three watches. One of them might be Bernard's." She turned to face Eliot, but kept pace with him while walking backwards over the rough alley floor. Her smile faded. "I," she stumbled over the words, "shouldn't have gone to Rose's."

The shadows to her right moved.

Rich, coppery liquid splashed about the glass as it was roughly set down on the bar. A natural reaction would be to grab his ear that still rang from the close report of a gunshot across town. Skill kept his expression neutral as he picked the glass up.

Sounds of a struggle quickly overtook the explosive remnant.

Raising the glass to his lips, Nate whispered: "Eliot? Parker? What's happening?"

"Alec, right?"

Hardison turned with a bit of surprise; he had been focused on the teeth-rattling gunshot and the following sounds of a scuffle. "Yes?" He looked at the plain clothed man, holding a glass and looking at a nearby painting.

Charles leaned in slightly. "I'm not into the people thing like my wife." He nodded back at Sylvia who was visiting with a small group. "Besides, she's doing her thing right now." He stared at a painting of a young girl in a field of sunflowers. "I'm glad you and your friends came along. I don't think Syl could take losing this too."

Hardison smiled as he looked around the open house. Sophie was being the intermediary between Lauren and Paul and others. He nodded toward the door leading to the storage. A smile. "It's nothing. We're glad to help out."

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Nate at the complimentary bar. The mastermind turned and nodded as he took a drink.