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Ace’s attention was divided between Jasmine, the actors, the cameramen and the supporting staff.
The beautiful, blond actress, Sadie McClain, did not command his attention like Jasmine.
Sure, Sadie was gorgeous, dressed in khaki slacks that hugged her hips, boots up to her knees and a flowing white blouse tucked into the narrow waistband of her trousers.
Her mane of golden hair had been styled into a natural wind-swept look with loose waves falling to her shoulders. She worked her way through the museum corridor, pretending to be a patron until she arrived at a golden statue encased in a glass box.
As Sadie studied the statue, her character assessing her chances of stealing it, Jasmine slipped out of the main museum corridor into the side room again.
What was she doing in there?
Ace wanted to follow her, but to do so, he’d have to pick his way through the camera crews and lighting people. He didn’t want to get in the way while the cameras were rolling. God forbid he should trip over a cable, make a noise or cast a shadow and make them have to start all over again.
So, he stood as still as a rock, all his attention on that room, counting the seconds until Jasmine came out or the director called, “Cut!”
Finally, Jasmine emerged from the room.
At the same time, the director yelled, “Cut!”
The crossbody satchel she’d worn pushed behind her now rested against the front of her hip; her hand balanced on it. Her head turned toward the museum entrance and back to the organized chaos of camera crews shifting positions and responding to the director’s suggestions. An American cameraman approached the Jordanian crew and spoke in English.
Members of the Jordanian camera crew frowned, looking lost. One of them spotted Jasmine and waved her over.
Jasmine’s brow furrowed. Her gaze darted toward the museum entrance once more before she strode across the floor to join the cameramen. She listened to the American cameraman and translated what he was saying for the Jordanians, who, in turn, grinned, nodded, and went to work adjusting angles.
Jasmine stepped back into the shadows.
Ace nodded to Hank. “Excuse me. I want to check on something.”
Hank’s eyes narrowed as his gaze swept through the people milling about. “Anything to be concerned about?”
Was there anything to be concerned about? Ace’s gut told him something was off, but he didn’t see a need to alarm Hank until he had a better idea of what. “No, I just want to look at some of the displays.”
“Are you a history buff?” Hank asked.
“A little. I’m always amazed at artifacts that were created centuries much earlier than our country’s inception.”
Hank nodded. “Yeah, some of the items in this museum date back hundreds of years before Christ.” He gave Ace a chin lift. “Explore while you can. It looks like they’re getting ready for another take.”
His gaze remained on Jasmine as Ace strode across the smooth stone floors to the room Jasmine had visited twice in less than an hour.
The room was climate-controlled, with soft lighting and several display cases positioned at its center. At a brief glance, nothing appeared out of place, but as Ace moved closer to the display cases, he frowned. They appeared...
Empty.
His pulse leaped as he read the information plaque beside the row of cases.
Copper scroll. 1st century AD.
He circled the cases and found that they all had keyed locks. He didn’t dare lift the tops off the cases. If he did, he’d leave his fingerprints all over the glass and possibly be accused of stealing what had been inside.
His stomach knotted. Jasmine had been in here. Had she come to steal the copper scroll? Did she have it stashed in that satchel she’d carried around all afternoon?
Ace spun on his heels and left the room. His gaze went to the last place he’d seen Jasmine. She wasn’t there.
His pulse slammed into hyperdrive as he scanned the vast corridor where the film crew worked.
She was nowhere to be seen.
