Cal was nearly to the border when he got the call from the baker’s son. None of his alert spells had gone off but Cal could hear the confrontation clearly through the phone. It was a good thing he had a fast car.
Three hours later he left. Bob and Esteban giggle over their projects in the security office. Useless for at least a week. Wil’ll get some overtime when they call out at least. That’ll be a nice check or two.
The clock ticked loudly to midnight. Every night it ticked off the uneventful minutes. No museum robbers with plans to make off with overpriced art ever had the courtesy to break in so Wil could spoil their plans. Anything to break up the monotony of patrolling. At least that’s what she thought until the museum director showed up. The curator was one thing. Liza usually liked to be there for big deliveries, and she was cool to Will. The museum director was a whole other thing. If that glory hound showed up it meant something “big” was coming in. Which would be exciting except he had an uncanny ability to suck all the fun out of anything, except for Liza. Nothing could dampen her, probably the only reason he hadn’t managed to drive her off. She kept rushing back and forth between the two biggest walls in the museum. Her heels clicking as she muttered about light and other technicalities of placement, sporadically saying “I can’t believe it.” Liza was usually enthusiastic about her art, but her eyes were doing a particularly happy dance tonight.
A dark figure looks over a lone house nestled in the woods below the hill she stands on.