I'm standing behind the Hotbox with Anna and Mr. Min. He lost his key. We're holding our register tills, waiting for Taehyung to come back from the cash-out room and unlock the door. I'm not even sure if Taehyung's made it through the lobby yet, escorting the other ticketing agents we're supposed to be replacing. But I don't even know if Taehyung knows we're locked out. I do know that it's a few minutes past noon and the line is pretty long. Frank, the guy in charge of taking tickets at the turnstile, keeps looking around the corner at us, the look on his face progressing from antsy to dismayed.

Mr. Min sniffles and rubs his nose. "We'll give him another minute to make it to cash-out before I buzz him. No sense in making him panic. He's got to get the tills to the room first."

Anna and I look at each other, shrug, and both make he's got a point faces. What are we going to do? There's no one at the information desk right now. The lady who's supposed to be there, who also has a key to ticketing, is outside in the parking lot, talking with a tour party. Mr. Lopez is on an extended lunch break with the shift supervisor. Besides, Mr. Min doesn't like to bother him, and who am I to argue?

He leans back against the booth's door, a little breathless, and crosses one ankle over the other, revealing his stripes socks. I sort of love them. And I sort of love Min Yoongi, even though his eyes are slits and he reeks of cigarettes. Anna says she caught him smoking in his car before work yesterday. He's got to be in his seventies. Let the guy have a few bad habits, I say.

"Next month will be 40th anniversary working at the museum," he says in a soft voice. He's got a gentle way about him that makes you want to listen to what he has to say. I'm not sure why Taehyung gets so frustrated with him. He's just an old man. Have a heart.

Anna's lips pout. "That's crazy."

"You must like it if you've stuck it this long," I say.

"Eh, I like observing people. And I don't have any college or training, so what else am I supposed to do? This is all I know." He scratches his head and his crazy white hair sticks in different directions. "They tried to make me retire about ten years ago, but I didn't really have anything to do at home. I never married. I've got a dog, Holly, but she gets tired of seeing me all day. SO even though they didn't pay me, I just kept showing up to work."

"What?" Anna says, unable to hide her disbelief. "For how long?"

"Um, about three months or so. Mr. Lopez finally got sick of telling me to go home, so he officially rehired me and put me back on the schedule." He smiles, gummy-like, lifting his shoulders. "And here I stand. it hasn't killed me yet. I think Taehyung should be in the cash-out room by now. Cover your ears, ladies. He's not going to be happy."

Anna bumps shoulders with me while Yoongi radios Taehyung. "Glad we're finally schedule together again."

"Me too." I say, genuinely meaning it. "Team Suzna, taking care of business."

"Team Suzna, dropping the mic."

We both giggle until Frank looks around the corner and Anna makes a hissing sound at him. He leaves us alone now. "Got plans for the weekend?" she asks me.

"I don't know. Why?"

"There's a bonfire on Saturday after work. Party on the beach."

I grip my till harder, thinking of Taehyung's friend RM. "Is this the one at the Secret Garden.?"

"Yeah. You've heard about it?"

"Only in passing."

"The core of it is a surfer crowd, but other people show up, too. They're usually every Saturday night in the summer. Sometimes they're boring, sometimes they're fun, but I thought it might be a good place to meet people from MIIC, since you're new. I can introduce you."

The me readying the excuse to turn her down, but the weird thing is, I think I want to go. Especially with Anna. So I say, "Sure, why not?" And before I know it, I'm telling her where appa lives, and we're making plans for her to pick me up in her car. What do you know? I guess I'm a social butterfly. Must be all this fresh air and sunshine.

Or maybe it's just that I'm feeling more hopeful about life in general after finding out appa has a new girlfriend. A kickass cop girlfriend. "We're just friends. Taking things slow," he assured me on the ride home yesterday. That was all he offered, so that's where we left it. As long as he's happy and there's no weirdness, I'm fine with it.

And speaking of fine, there's the other more important thing buzzing around in my brain: bumping into Mark at IHOP. Mark, and only Mark, I remind myself for the millionth time, who may or may not be V. But I decided last night that I'm going to muster up the grumption to go talk to him again. I've been daydreaming about it off and on for hours.

A rush of cool museum air blows across my arm, and my daydreaming is cut short when I have to step to the side to avoid the bull that is Taehyung, charging the ticketing booth.

"I'm going to rip out your intestines, sew this key to the end of them, and then stuff them back inside your body."

Taehyung opens Yoongi's hand, shoves down a key, and closes the man's fingers on top of it. "Don't. Lose it. Again."

The older security guard smiles. "You're a good boy, Taehyung. Thank you." Yoongi pats him on the shoulder, completely unfazed by Taehyung's bad attitude. He's a better man than most. "Come along, ladies. Frank's got ants in his pants. Let's start on the line and sell some tickets."

Team Suzna kicks , per usual, and we did finish the line, because we're the best. Our shift supervisor remarks on the good work we do, and when Mr. Lopez drops by to check on us, for once,  he even gets our names right. it's a good day, right up until 4 p.m.

Museum foot traffic has slowed. my break's almost over and I'm nearly ready to power through my last couple of hours, but I've still got a few minutes, so I'm walking through Hyesun's Wing. I'm in the San Franciso Room, which has a Golden Gate Bride that visitors walk under and a fake Chinatown street, where you can look inside a stage storefront window that look like they did the late 1800s. As I looking at a Chinese tea shop, I notice two kids, maybe thirteen or fourteen years old, acting strange. They're standing a few yards away, nearby a film display, eyeing a replica of the Blasian Falcon, which is sitting on the desk of the famous Blade Spade. One of them, a blond boy in a blue polo shirt and Vans, is experimentally touching the statue, while his friend, a brunette with a backpack, keeping a lookout.

I can guess what they're planning. Idiots. Don't they notice the security cameras? The backpack kid does see them, though, and he's inching around, blocking his friend with his body, looking up at the cameras and judging the angle. I don't know what they hope to accomplish. Everything in the museum is glued, nailed, screwed, or locked down.

Only it's not.

Polo shirt touches the falcon, and it jiggles. Just a little. But enough.

They're going to rock it off its mounting. The boys are planning a heist.

I look around. Only a few museum guests in this room. I keep my head low and casually walk to the other end of the room, where I know from memorizing the stupid employee map that a call box is hidden in a wall panel. Making sure I'm not seen, I duck behind a potted plant, pop open the panel, and hit the button for security. Taehyung's voice booms over the line.

"Talk to me." He's on his radio. I can tell by the click and static.

"It's Suzy," I whisper. "I'm in the San Francisco Room."

"That's a long way from ticketing, Bae. And speak up. I can't hear you. Or are you trying to come on to me? Is this your y voice? I like it."

I groan and seriously consider hanging up. "Shut up and listen. I think some kids are trying to steal."

"I think you have the wrong number, sir."

"Taehyung!" I say through gritted teeth. "They're stealing the Blasian falcon."

"Calm down. I'm two rooms away. I'll be right there. Don't take your eyes off them, but don't approach. They might be dangerous or something. I'm being serious right now, in case you can't tell."

The phone goes dead. After closing the panel, I casually step from behind the plant and pretend to be looking at some paintings while keep an eye on the kids. They're still rocking the falcon statue. A couple is passing under the bridge, and the two boys sees them, so that pauses their thieving for a moment. I disappear behind the plant again.

Come on, Taehyung. I know the falcon's not actually movie memorabilia, much like the rest of the items in this place; only two statues were used in the original film, and one was auctioned off several million dollars. But it's the principle of the thing and it makes me mad.

"Where are they now?" Taehyung's warm breath grazes the hair around my ear. My neck and shoulder involuntarily clamp together, and for some reason, he finds this amusing. "Ticklish, Bae?" he whispers.

I ignore that comment and lower a branch to show him the boys, who are now rocking the statue again. "there. BLue polo shirt and backpack."

"Dirty pigs," he mutters. "The falcon?"

I won't lie. A little thrill goes through me that Taehyung's as mad as I am. I like that we're on the same page about this. "What are we going to do?" I whisper.

"Rule number one in capturing thieves and shoplifters according to the Vogue Palace guidelines is that we absolutely do not make a scene. No chasing. No nasty blowups. Nothing that causes the other guests to feel uncomfortable, so that means we've got to smoke them out, nice and easy."

"I don't understand," I whisper.

taehyugn drops his head to speak in a lower voice. "We let them steal it."

"What?" My face is near his face, so close I can see that his eyes are different, one monolid and one double. Did I know that they were different? I never noticed until now. "We can't do that."

"We can and we will. Then we'll follow them to the exit and bust their asses in the parking lot."

"Oh," I say, more than a little intrigued by this prospect.

"now, they might split up. I've had this happen once before with a pair of Jaehyun's cuff links last summer. Bastards got away with a thousand dollars' worth of gold while I got chewed out by Lopez. So I might need some help. Will you?"

"Me? I don't know . . . my break's over."

"Bawk, bawk," he whispers back, cawing like a chicken. The tip of his nose touches mine, and we're so close, I can now see his chest lifting up and down . . . and the jumping pulse of a vein on his neck. Were his shoulders always this broad? Holy moly, he seems bigger up close. And instead of wanting to punch him in the stomach, which should be my normal Taehyung response, I'm starting to want something else that makes my breath come faster. My clothes suddenly feel too tight.

Oh.

Omo.

So what? He's attractive and has a certain damaged charm about him. It's just chemical attraction. Perfectly natural. Means nothing.

And because I'm on my break and it's cold in the museum, I'm wearing the cardigan, and that covers the majority of the problem that is now happening in my locale. Disaster averted. And the thought of it being a near miss is enough to throw a bucket of cold water onto the situation. Man, this is ridiculous. It's just dumb old Taehyung. What am I afraid of? Nothing.

To prove it to myself, I move back and lift my head, meeting his eyes and his challenge. "Radio Anna and tell her I'll be late."

His smile could power a building. He quickly radios Yoongi and briefs him on the situation, giving the older guard a description of the boys and instructions to track them on the security monitors. But before he can notify Anna, our thieving boys are on the move.

The falcon is gone. I didn't see them take it. But the boys are huddled and the backpack's being swung from the shorter kid's shoulder. They're stashing the bird.

"Taehyung!" I whisper heatedly, pulling his sleeve.

"I see it," he says, keeping the branch bent to look into the room. He radios Yoongi again, who saw it too.

"Got it all on tape," the old man confirms, his words coming from the tiny black box on Taehyung's shoulder. Apart from losing keys, this is probably more excitement than the two of them have had in months. "Go get them, Taehyung. I'm watching from heaven."

Heaven. The security room. I wonder if Taehyung really does watch me from there, or if that's him talking big.

The blond kid zips up the backpack and slings it over his right shoulder, looks around, and then the two robbers make their way under the bridge, walking like it's Sunday and they didn't commit a crime. The nerve!

"Time to follow," Taehyung says, nudging me out of our hiding place with a tap on my wrist. "We'll hang back at safe distance, but not too far. There are a lot of exits, and they likely know that. Main entrance and gift shop are the fastest escape routes. but the easiest for us to track. Fire exits will set off alarms, but they could run and lose us - that's how the cuff links bandits beat me last summer. And then there's the delivery door and the employee entrance."

"They're turning right," I say. "Heading toward the lobby."

"That kills three of the fire exits. Don't stare too hard. Just act like we're having a friendly chat. It's good that you're not wearing your vest. You look like you're asking me for help. Maybe you're just my girlfriend, visiting me for lunch."

I nearly choke. "Dream on."

"What? I'm not good enough for your taste?"

"Don't be silly."

he snorts. "You prance around here, trying to look like a movie star in your expensive clothing, driving a Vespa, lawyer mom back in Seoul -"

His tone light, almost teasing - not like our usual arguments - but it's what he's saying that surprises me. I stop walking, but he pushes me forward. "Do you want to catch these guys? They're turning into the Middle East Room. Might've just seen me too. We need to be careful."

We hang back for a second while Taehyung looks into the room. As he does,  I say, "How did you know eomma's a lawyer?"

"Anna told me."

Oh. "my clothes aren't expensive, they're stylish. I can't help if your sense of style doesn't register anything higher than chic and beach."

"Oofs," he says, mocking offense. " You wound my tender heart, Bae. But I'm quite stylish too."

"And appa bought me the Vespa. It's restored. It's not like it's new or anything."

"That model's worth more than a new ride. Anyone who knows wheels knows that. The Vogue's a collector's paradise for scooters. You need to keep that thing locked up all times."

"I'm not an idiot," I tell him.

"Aish!"

"What?" I angle to see around him.

"Polo shirt definitely saw me. They're circling around to the main hallway." He radios Yoongi again. You still see them?"

"yeah, I got them on the overheads in the main corridor," Yoongi's voice says over the radio. "Looks like they're heading for the lobby."

The museum closes at six, and it's past four, so at this time of day, the main hallways on both wings begin to fill up with guests making their way back out to warm sun and fresh air. Our little robbers duck into the crowd and for a few seconds, we lose them in the flow. My pulse speeds as I bounce on my feet trying to see over the heads of the slow-moving herd.

"Stop that," Taehyung says. "You're going to blow our cover. I can see them. They're hugging the south wall, so I don't think they'll break for the main gate or the gift shop."

"Employee hall?"

"Maybe? Or they could head straight to Jaehyun's wing and try to use a fire exit there."

Taehyung's legs are longer than mine, and it's hard for me to keep up with him without doubling my pace. "I don't have tastes. Just because I have style doesn't mean I'm a snob. An din case you haven't noticed, I'm not living with eomma anymore; I'm living with appa. And I'm working this job, probably making a whole less money than you, Mr. I Can Work Full-Time and All my ual Activity Is Legal."

Taehyung chuckles and shakes his head.

Before I can think of something else to say, we're at the end of the hallway, and our suspects have taken a sharp right. Taehyung was right: They aren't headed to the main gate or the gift shop. But they're not going to Jaehyun's wing or the employee hall either.

"What the . . ." Taehyung mumbles. "The brats are going spe-lunking?"

Sure enough, the two boys walk through the back of the lobby, making a beeline to the gaping mouth of the cave. Why they'd head there, I don't understand. There's no exit inside, just a dark, looping path that ends up right back at the mouth of the cave. . . .

"Any cameras in there?" I ask.

"A few. The quality isn't great," Taehyung admits.

"They're trying to lose us."

He thinks about this for a moment and swears under his breath. We race to the mouth of the cave, where the boys have jogged down the steps and disappeared under. There's only lit by orange spotlights. Only problem is, the steps go two ways: left and right. The main route snakes through the cliffs, crisscrossing in the center like a pretzel where they open up into the center. And the boys have split up.

"You go left," Taehyung tells me. "I'll go right. Whichever one of them you find, don't take your eyes off him."

"Meet you in the center." I take off down the stairs, cool air drafting up as i jog. It's dark and creepy down here, and the metal handrail that's been here since the museum opened has a clammy feel to it that gives the heebie-jeebies, so I can't touch it. This makes running difficult, because caves are dark and damp, and the low lights around the walkway might be great for setting a mood, but they don't provide much in the way of seeing. Luckily, there aren't too many people lingering in the cave - and even fewer racing through it. I spot Blue Polo Shirt a few yards ahead; on another landing.

There isn't much to see in the cave, especially compared to the rest of the jam-packed museum, just a few info plaques with facts about caves in California and animals live there, and the occasional bench for people to rest and enjoy the dark. I walk past a woman leaning against one of these benches and head around the pretzel turn toward the red-and-green glow of the main lobby.

Rocky walls lined with formed crevices and holes separate the cave into multiple chambers. It's a great place for hiding, and those little robbers know it. Several people mingle around the main plaque, marking the spot where Jaehyun and Hyesun found their gold. A cheesy chest overflowing with doubloons sits atop a flat rock. It's crazy. I'm embarrassed for everyone who has to look upon it, including myself.

But more than that, I'm embarrassed that I've lost the stupid kid I'm supposed to be following. I finally spot Taehyung, and he acknowledges me with a nod, but I can tell by the angle of his brow that he can't find the backpack kid either. how could this be? I look around one more time, and out of the corner of my eye, I spot something: two white sneakers slipping through one of the larger hole formations in the rocky cave walls. Not Polo, but the backpack kid. Sneaky little boy is climbing up the stairs.

Taheyung's attention is elsewhere, and I'm not losing this kid again, so I take off after him. Up I go, back the way I came, twice as fast, pounding the steps.

The backpack kid tosses me a look over his shoulder. He knows I'm chasing him, and he's not stopping. Too bad. Neither am I.

When he reaches the mouth of the cave, he hesitates long enough to spot his partner, slamming up the steps on the other side. Then they're off, racing together through the lobby.

Taehyung said not make a scene, but what about now? Do I just let these jerks get away? I quickly decide: No, I don't.

I went as fast as I can go, giving chase. They nearly bump into an entire family, who startle like ducks , jumping out of their way.

"Someone stop them!" I yell.

No one does.

I think about Taehyung surrounded by people that horrible day on the beach years ago, when no one would help him save appa from the shark. If strangers won't help when someone is dying, they're definitely not going to stop two kids from running out of a museum.

Pulse swishing in my temples, I race around the information booth, pumping my arms, and watch them split up again. Polo is heading for the easy way out: the main exit, where there's (1) only a set of doors to go through, and (2) Henry, the laziest employee on staff.

but Backpack is headed for the ticketing booth and the connecting turnstiles. Frank should be there, but no one's entering the museum, so he's instead talking with Henry. The turnstiles are unmanned.

Like a pro who's never paid a subway fee, Backpack hurdles over the turnstiles in one leap. Impressive. Or it would have been, had his backpack not slipped off his shoulder and the strap not caught on one of the turnstile arms. While he struggles to free it, I take the easier route and make for the wheelchair access gate.

I unhitch the latch.

He frees the strap.

I slip through the gate, and just as he's turning to run, I lurch forward and -

I jumped on his back.

We hit the ground together. The air whooshes out of my lungs and my knee slams into tile. he cries out. I don't.

I freaking got him.

"Get off me, you crazy !" He wiggles below me, elbowing me in the ribs. I grip his arms to hold him down. A breathless, evil laugh comes out of me in fits. I can't even say anything; I'm too winded.

"Oh no you don't," a winning male voice says nearby.

I twist to the side. Taehyung dragging Polo by the arm. he doesn't look half winded as I feel. Stupid surfer genes. But now Frank and Henry are coming - to gawk, I guess. And here's Anna, too; finally, someone with sense.

"What in the world is going on?" she asks.

"Watch him," Taehyung tells the three of them as he parks Polo on the ground. Then he pulls me off of Backpack.

"She's crazy," the boy repeats. "I think she broke my leg."

"Whatever. She's got the strength of a potato," Taehyung says, pulling the boy to his feet, who protests and hobbles, but manages okay.

"Oww," he whines.

"Shut up, you thieving ." Taehyung grabs the boy by the shirt, taking off the backpack, tosses it to me. "Check it."

I the backpack. nested in a waddled-up hoodie is the statue. I hold it up like a trophy.

The boy groans and tries to wiggle out of Taehyung's grip. "Nuh-uh," Taehyung says, urging him down next to Polo and pressing the button on his sleeve. "You and your friend aren't going anywhere right now. We're going to sit tight while my buddy Mr. Min makes a phone call to our friends at the police department. Got that, Yoongi?" he asks into his radio.

"Got it," Yoongi's voice answers.

While the boys exchange panicked looks, a small crowd is forming. I brush off my skirt and notice a small trail of blood runs from a nasty scrape on my knees. I don't even care. I'm still on an adrenaline high.

Taehyung smiles, eyebrows high. "Damn, Suzy. You took him downtown. Full-on body slam. I had no idea you had it in you."

Me neither, to be honest. "No one steals from Blade Spade and gets away with it," I shrug.

He holds his hand up, and I slap it, but instead of it being a high-five, he laces his fingers between mine, squeezing. it's probably for a second, but it feels longer. When he releases my hand, I'm in chaos: fingers tingling from where his were, mind trying to make sense of it. Is he just being friendly, or is this maybe some sort of surfer handshake?

Now he's crouching in front of me, examining my knee. "Ouch," he says. Gentle fingers prod the skin around my wound. "You busted that up pretty good."

"yeah, stop poking it," I say, but I'm not mad.

"You okay?" he asks in a softer voice.

"It's fine."

He nods and stands, than gestures for the falcon. When I hand it over, he turns to the boys.

"You know this thing is worthless, right? If you idiots would've hustled a little faster, I suspect all you'd get of it on eBay would be $10, and we'd just order a new one online the next day. but now you're going to start your teenage lives with criminal records."

"Screw you," Polo says. "My dad's a lawyer. And hundred dollars says he'll get you and your fired."

Taehyung laughs and tugs a thumb in my direction as Mr. Lopez rushes toward us through gift-shop exits. "Nice try. Her mom's a lawyer, too."

Uh, divorce lawyer living all the way in another country, but who cares? We both share a secret smile. Who knew that my archnemesis could make a good partner? A crime-solving partner - that's all. No other kind of partner. I really need to wipe all those other thoughts out of my head, especially the confusing thing that happened before we chases down these kids. And the hand-holding. And the secret smiling.

Ugh.

Must forget this tangled mess quickly, and I think I know how.