Jones wore his boots khaki pants and white button up shirt and grabbed his brown leather jacket and fedora before he slipped out the back door of his room and hoped over the fence of the private backyard patio. He made sure no one was following him before he made his way over to the Burke J. Carter Library. As a precaution Indy had taken his satchel which contained his whip and revolver. Indiana Jones was a very cautious fellow and was under the impression he was going to need it. 

Indy found Shay inside and lead her upstairs to the third floor somewhere private, and used his key to unlock the door leading to the Marshall College Art Gallery. It was a small museum with a collection that was the college's own, relying on exhibits and art donated by the school's alumni and professors. While the most impressive exhibit was made up of Native American artifacts, the museum hosted ancient Greek, Roman, Egyptian and Mesopotamian pieces as well as art by minor Impressionist and Renaissance painters, and displayed some more recent work.

Jones had visited the museum in his spare time and took a look at the exhibits and artifacts, it was impressive for such a small an private museum and Jones dreamed of donating to the exhibits in the future. He had obtained a key to the place from the curator for taking his students on tours and study in the future. But right now, Jones took Shay here for privacy and to find out more about what was going on. The lights were off and he kept it that way so they wouldn't be spotted. He ushered Shay in and locked the door behind them he lead her near an exhibit away the window making sure they couldn't be seen. But before he said anything he looked into her eyes and saw the frightened look on her face. For a moment he forgot about all the questions he had for her and thought about how intriguing her silver eyes glinted in the moonlight. In that moment all Indy wanted to do was comfort her and protect her. 

He thought he glimpsed something in her eye that had nothing to do with the murder or fear or tales about her father. Shay looked dazzling in the moonlight. Indy reached out and pushed back an unruly strand of her dark hair which had fallen across her cheek. Jones forgot about the museum and murder and shut out the rest of the world. There was no need for words, and he hoped consent was mutual. He bent forward; his lips brushed against hers.