Read Online Shift Burn (Imogene Museum Mystery #6) by Jerusha Jones - Free Book Online
Authors: Jerusha Jones
Ads: Link
on the linoleum and a wet nose collided with my knee. My wiggly, squiggly, absolutely elated hound. Never was a dog so ecstatic to escape confinement. She could hardly hold still long enough for a decent rubdown.
Then it was Pete’s turn to receive a shower of affection. Tuppence adored him long before I did, so his joining the family has never been a problem for her.
Pete held open the door, and Tuppence trotted out, nose angled straight for the pickup. A dry gust spun into a small whirlwind, carrying dead grass and parking lot litter, flapping Tuppence’s ears, and prickling up the back of my neck.
I squinted toward the east and the layer of gray-brown smoke that was built up thick and brought the eastern horizon much closer than it really was. Wind. Exactly what we didn’t need.
Tuppence sneezed, then snorted, her nose quivering toward the east too. No doubt she smelled it as well.
I scooted into the middle so Tuppence could assume her usual shotgun seat. As soon as Pete started the engine, I blurted, “What was he thinking? He has to know that a podunk, two-bit, storefront insurance agency can’t offer the kind of policy the Imogene needs. That’s why Rupert’s working with Lloyd’s of London. How does he know about the shipment?” I ended through gritted teeth.
“Whoa, Babe,” Pete replied. “Maybe he doesn’t realize the magnitude of the shipment. He might have just hit on a lucky guess. Otherwise, he’d know what you know — that he can’t possibly offer insurance for what’s in the shipment. I’d call his offer a general threat of good intentions — not specific.”
“You think?” I blew out a long breath.
“For now. But word will leak. How long until the security system’s in place and operational?”
“Five or six weeks, not allowing for glitches. The security technicians can’t finalize the settings until the foundation repair work is complete because of the motion sensors, and the concrete in the support pillars for the foundation will take twenty-eight days to cure after they’re poured.” I sighed. “I wish the donor hadn’t been in such a hurry to unload this collection.”
Pete shook his head, his face grim. We both knew the timeframe was too long to count on lips not flapping in Sockeye County.
CHAPTER 8
Pete dodged the construction equipment in the Imogene ’s parking lot and dropped Tuppence and me near the front doors. I leaned into his open window for one last smooch, then he turned around and headed back to Lupine to retrieve the Tinsleys.
Rupert was puttering about the ballroom, our largest exhibit hall and the first one visitors pass through, hands clasped behind his back. He stopped at the plaque beside a case displaying Klickitat beaded pouches, bent forward to peer at the fine print and read every word, muttering to himself. At least eighty percent of his work for the museum is on the road — examining collections, acquiring them in whatever bargain method he can conjure up, and schmoozing with other curiosity seekers and oddity collectors like himself. Essentially marketing on a grand scale. I handle the local marketing and all operations as well as collection preservation and display. In other words, Rupert sets the overall vision while I scurry around after the details.
Since Rupert is certifiably eccentric, you can imagine what sort of vision the Imogene follows, but it’s a fun ride — most of the time. I’m one of the few people on the planet who truly loves her job.
Whenever Rupert’s on the premises, he usually holes up in his tornado-aftermath of an office, a place you enter at your own risk. I darted a glance into the gift shop and caught Frankie’s eye. She just shrugged and shook her head. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one worried about this shipment.
Tuppence took it upon herself to greet my boss by nudging his knee with her nose and swishing her entire back half from side
Then it was Pete’s turn to receive a shower of affection. Tuppence adored him long before I did, so his joining the family has never been a problem for her.
Pete held open the door, and Tuppence trotted out, nose angled straight for the pickup. A dry gust spun into a small whirlwind, carrying dead grass and parking lot litter, flapping Tuppence’s ears, and prickling up the back of my neck.
I squinted toward the east and the layer of gray-brown smoke that was built up thick and brought the eastern horizon much closer than it really was. Wind. Exactly what we didn’t need.
Tuppence sneezed, then snorted, her nose quivering toward the east too. No doubt she smelled it as well.
I scooted into the middle so Tuppence could assume her usual shotgun seat. As soon as Pete started the engine, I blurted, “What was he thinking? He has to know that a podunk, two-bit, storefront insurance agency can’t offer the kind of policy the Imogene needs. That’s why Rupert’s working with Lloyd’s of London. How does he know about the shipment?” I ended through gritted teeth.
“Whoa, Babe,” Pete replied. “Maybe he doesn’t realize the magnitude of the shipment. He might have just hit on a lucky guess. Otherwise, he’d know what you know — that he can’t possibly offer insurance for what’s in the shipment. I’d call his offer a general threat of good intentions — not specific.”
“You think?” I blew out a long breath.
“For now. But word will leak. How long until the security system’s in place and operational?”
“Five or six weeks, not allowing for glitches. The security technicians can’t finalize the settings until the foundation repair work is complete because of the motion sensors, and the concrete in the support pillars for the foundation will take twenty-eight days to cure after they’re poured.” I sighed. “I wish the donor hadn’t been in such a hurry to unload this collection.”
Pete shook his head, his face grim. We both knew the timeframe was too long to count on lips not flapping in Sockeye County.
CHAPTER 8
Pete dodged the construction equipment in the Imogene ’s parking lot and dropped Tuppence and me near the front doors. I leaned into his open window for one last smooch, then he turned around and headed back to Lupine to retrieve the Tinsleys.
Rupert was puttering about the ballroom, our largest exhibit hall and the first one visitors pass through, hands clasped behind his back. He stopped at the plaque beside a case displaying Klickitat beaded pouches, bent forward to peer at the fine print and read every word, muttering to himself. At least eighty percent of his work for the museum is on the road — examining collections, acquiring them in whatever bargain method he can conjure up, and schmoozing with other curiosity seekers and oddity collectors like himself. Essentially marketing on a grand scale. I handle the local marketing and all operations as well as collection preservation and display. In other words, Rupert sets the overall vision while I scurry around after the details.
Since Rupert is certifiably eccentric, you can imagine what sort of vision the Imogene follows, but it’s a fun ride — most of the time. I’m one of the few people on the planet who truly loves her job.
Whenever Rupert’s on the premises, he usually holes up in his tornado-aftermath of an office, a place you enter at your own risk. I darted a glance into the gift shop and caught Frankie’s eye. She just shrugged and shook her head. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one worried about this shipment.
Tuppence took it upon herself to greet my boss by nudging his knee with her nose and swishing her entire back half from side
Similar Books
