“Well, that’s obvious,” I said, hand slapping my thigh as if she was being stupid. “If Riffletic’s rings are not on display, then the Cumberland estate wants their pieces back as well.”

The woman frowned, and I added with a sniff, “There seems to be some question as to the safety of your facility. My God, I got down here with no problem at all.”

Marcie looked at her open file folder. “I don’t have a record of any Cumberland pieces.”

“You lost our rings? What kind of rinky-dink museum are you!”

“We are one of the oldest art museums in the United States,” she said hotly. “Don’t move.” Never taking her eyes off me, she backed up to a landline phone. It looked like it had been down here since they put the carpet squares in.

“Me moving will not be an issue. I’m not leaving until I have the rings in my possession,” I said, haughty. Damn it, Ivy, where are you? “I can’t believe you misplaced them.”

“Who did you say you were?” she asked, and we both looked up as the door beeped.

Ivy, I thought in relief, then choked when Nick walked in, cool and calm in a pinstripe gray suit and a blue tie. I almost didn’t recognize him with his hair slicked back and his shiny shoes. Because of him, Ceri and Pierce are dead. It was all I could do not to crawl over the tables between us. I clenched my teeth when our eyes met and he smiled.

The woman set the receiver back in the cradle. “And who are you?” she asked, pushing her glasses farther up her nose.

He beamed, reaching behind his coat for his wallet. “Nick Sparagmos. FIB,” he said, and I couldn’t help my bark of laughter. “Thank God you found her,” he added, grimacing at me and flipping his wallet open to show an ID. He closed it before Marcie could do more than lean to look, stuffing it away where he’d gotten it from. “Hands in fists on the top of your head,” he said to me. “Don’t make this hard on yourself.”

Why, are we surrounded? I thought sourly, but he was between me and the door. Ku’Sox might drop into him, and then I’d be banned from the museum for blowing it up or setting it on fire, or . . . something. I slid away from the table I was leaning against. “You touch me, and you die, Nick.” Damn it, how was I going to get the rings now? Not only were they gone, but if I took my second choice, he’d know and tell Ku’Sox.

The woman looked from me to Nick. “Someone better tell me what’s going on,” she threatened, and I leaned back, gesturing for Nick to say something, dying to find out, myself.