Now soaked, she left him bleeding on the floor, grabbing his bag of supplies off the ground. She tried to remember which wall the safe had been in, but the drugs had addled her memory. She closed her eyes and concentrated, pictured the phone… the door… the safe! It had been on the wall opposite the phone, near the corner! She darted forward and pounded on the wall.

A panel slid back, revealing a fingerprint scanner. Violet turned around and stalked over to Michael’s body, dragging him to the wall. She hoisted a pudgy arm up to the screen, praying silently. It opened.

She shoved the small box into her pack, and ran into the main area of the museum. Where was the entrance? After consulting a directory, she hurried out into the afternoon sunlight, toward the beach.

She ducked into an alley close to the docks. She’d spied a rubber raft, but the fishermen near it seemed deep in conversation. Her escape was sitting right there, so close it almost hurt. She clung to the wall, praying they would leave.