Damage Control Page 10

  She shrugged. “I just don’t think that far ahead.” Giving in to fear wouldn’t help Noble. He was her priority. She still didn’t know if she was dealing with one man or a group. Treasure hunters were notorious for going to extremes, especially the black market sort. She crossed to the phone and ordered room service, tea for Cruz. He needed something. He looked ready to come out of his skin.

  “The director?”

  He shook his head. “Not available. I left a message to call you.”

  “Fine, till then, get Ross on the line.”

  He couldn’t move fast enough back to his room, and while he made the connection, she changed quickly, then swept her hair up in a twist. She stared at her reflection. Dumb. Do you really think a new hairdo will keep big knife guy guessing? She left the bathroom and checked her phone. She’d put Noble’s number in it, and was tempted to try a call, but without the translation, she had nothing for barter. She entered Cruz’s room. Ross’s image was on the laptop screen. She took a seat. He didn’t look happy. Maybe it was just the grainy transmission. The rotation of the earth and satellite links were disastrous in that end of the world.

  “Since there’s no stopping you now, what have you accomplished?”

  She let out a relieved breath. She didn’t want to argue. She was right, he was wrong. She relayed the visit to the cottage and the man destroying the place.

  “It was sanitized already. They didn’t find anything. We didn’t either.”

  She arched a brow. “That was quick.”

  “The project is exposed and we have to get it back under wraps quickly.”

  “It’s one of our own,” she said.

  His lips pressed in a tight line. “Or someone further up the chain.”

  “There’s only three and let’s face it, they’re the ones who scrutinized my staff.” She inclined her head to Cruz. Though anyone connected to the project had their backgrounds thoroughly sifted, her team was handpicked for their expertise, not for the ability to play cloak and dagger. “News on Noble?”

  He shook his head. “No ransom demands yet.” Her heart felt the weight of that. He wasn’t a young man and she didn’t want to imagine the treatment he was suffering right now. “Police are looking at street traffic videos. So far, the killer didn’t leave a trace.”

  She agreed, then was forced to tell him the guy at the cottage might have seen her. When Ross opened his mouth, she put up a hand. “Don’t. Alone without backup wasn’t wise, I know that, but it was early. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be there except maybe the police.” She waited till he settled back and described what she witnessed. “He had a knife that’s the length and width of the puncture wounds to our agent. Double edge, nine inches maybe.” He worked another computer and the screen split and the photo loaded. “Similar, but I didn’t get that close.” Her own was in her bag and might as well be a Swiss Army. “The man I saw was wearing latex gloves, but he had a tattoo on his hands. Here.” She pointed to the web of skin between the thumb and forefinger on the muscle.

  He frowned, scanning papers in front of him. “You’re certain?”

  He knows something. “Not without seeing them up close, no, but it was black, and unless he’s got a skin disease or broke a pen, my guess is a tat.”

  “Several gangs have tattoos there.”

  She tipped her head. “Too organized. If that’s the same man, then they got out of England and did it easily. Probably by boat. That means Noble could be here in Ireland.”

  “I’ll alert the garda and the port authorities.” He leaned in and she noticed his nose was a little pink. “Now you going to tell me what you found in China?”

  The glow was certainly off that, she thought, her smile reluctant. “The origins of the legend.”

  His eyes rounded and she savored this moment. His stunned expression. Priceless. “Now do you understand exactly how important Noble is to our success?” He was the one who’d found the khan well hidden in history. She’d found the tomb. “It gives us a positive link. Cruz will load up the image and you can see for yourself. Get Dana on it. She has my notes.” Ross scribbled on a notepad, nodding. Cruz cleared his throat and tapped his watch. “Gotta fly.”

  “Consider taking Cruz with you.”

  “Oh, please.” She left the chair and was about to cut the line when Ross said, “You were right.”

  She sat back down. “Keep going.”

  “I was insensitive and driven by the job and the time line. We will never find the relic without the translation or Noble.”

  “I appreciate that.” But she wasn’t letting him off that easy. “It’s a good start. The security I requested?”

  “Perimeter sensors have been increased and expanded, and the armed detail is doubled. Though I don’t think it’s wise to have guns anywhere near a bunch of geeks who can’t function without their computers.”

  He had a point. Living on the edge of the world was a stretch for most of them.

  “I’m personally inspecting everything coming into the site, including intelligence. Noble’s cell number is being tracked, but it’s not turned on. There is a possibility they simply dumped it somewhere.”

  She had a feeling the director had a hand in that, but she wasn’t complaining. At least her staff was safe. “The phone that called Noble, that got the alert from your undisclosed source?”

  “They’re still tracing it, but it hasn’t been used since.”

  “Who is he, the caller?” She suspected it was the guy at the cottage, but he could just be hired muscle.

  “Don’t know. It’s related to another operation and I don’t have clearance to pry.” He flushed a little. “I’ve tried and got smacked down.”

  Olivia was sort of proud of him, and it made up for his pissy “by the manual” attitude. “There’s hope for you, Agent Ross.” She smiled. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Although being shut out with one inquiry said the tracked caller was into more than just her project.

  His lips quirked. “If I get my clearance handed to me, you’re the reason.”

  “That’s because I’m good at guilt trips. Thank you, Andrew.”

  “Keep a link to Cruz open and anything suspicious, alert us.”

  “I’ll try.” The hair on the back of her neck hadn’t settled down yet, but wired to Cruz wasn’t useful. He couldn’t help her if she got in trouble, anyway. A big weapon would make her feel better, but using it on someone breathing—not so much. She ended the transmission and went back to her room for her leather satchel. She was brushing dirt off her shoes when she heard room service delivered in the adjoining room. Cruz’s brilliant self wasn’t up for this kind of intrigue. He needed sustenance. She left her room through the partition to his, closing the door behind her. She found him near the window, sipping Irish Breakfast tea and spying the parking lot.

  “No one is near the car.”

  “I love your vigilance, Cruz.” She bit into a teacake and washed it down with strong coffee. Her stomach screamed for more.

  “Someone has to keep tabs.”

  She wiped her mouth with a linen napkin, then turned to the door. She was glad someone had her back. Cloak and dagger wasn’t her specialty. “If you get worried, I don’t know…go try on my new shoes.”

  He blinked owlishly, and she closed the door on his laugh.

  Olivia wasn’t taking chances and drove evasively, managing side streets, and ignoring the GPS bitching about recalculating. She approached the manor and was always blown away that wedged next to a sixteenth-century mansion the size of a football field was a modern bakery and chocolate shop. That chocolate shop and me have a date, she thought as she pulled though the gates of the estate and parked the car in front. Her credentials got her past security quickly, and inside, she followed the docent deeper into the manor. Her shoes clicked on the polished hardwood floors and she couldn’t resist stopping to admire the oil painting of the clan chieftain in full regalia before she crossed the dining room. That table would accom
modate thirty, she thought, then looked ahead as Liz stepped out of her office, meeting her halfway.

  Olivia smiled at the friendly face of her grad school roommate. “You look fabulous!” The tall brunette wore a fitted navy suit, a scarf of her clan tartan across her shoulder. The heirloom brooch securing it was familiar and nearly two hundred years old. “Killer shoes, girl.”

  Liz grinned and they embraced. “Welcome back, but I didn’t mean for you to fly here, Olivia.”

  “I was in the neighborhood.” They turned in to the offices.

  “Here to see Noble? He wasn’t answering his phone.”

  “There’s a good reason.” Olivia closed the door and broke the bad news, revealing the situation with the least amount of information.

  With wide eyes Liz said, “You think it was because of the ship’s log?”

  Olivia skirted mentioning the translation. “It was worth about eight grand, more on the black market. It was especially well preserved.” Kiss that good-bye, she thought and tried to redirect. “I’m sorry, I should have called.” Her stomach growled noisily and she felt her face go warm, embarrassed.

  Liz leaned back against her desk. “Yes, so we could have lunch maybe.”

  Olivia felt a little sting of jealousy. She could use a not-about-the-job break right about now. Food and several hours sleep wouldn’t hurt either.

  “This just saves me the post.” Liz reached around to her desk to the little wood box near the phone. She opened it, then handed her a bright green flash drive. Olivia felt a flush of relief. “He’s never asked me for anything since the archives, so I thought it best to get it to you or send it. I just needed an address. I didn’t expect you to show up in person.”

  “Thank you. May I borrow your computer, see what it is? Or do you know?”

  “No, I didn’t peek. He’s left that here more than once. Absent-minded professor, I suppose.”

  Far from it, Olivia thought. Noble was sharp.

  “I assumed it was simply a copy of clan records he’d made here.”

  Olivia took a seat at Liz’s desk and slipped the drive into the port, then accessed it. She sat back, scowling at the screen.

  “Not what you expected?”

  “Some. His research.” She clicked, opening several, giving each a quick look before closing them one by one. There were copies of all sorts of documents. Huge amounts of old e-mails, more ship logs, trade letters, but no diary. As she opened another, she realized Noble was following a lead she didn’t understand yet. This isn’t anything to do with Ireland, she thought, then closed the files and removed the flash. She stuffed it between her breasts.

  Liz arched a tapered brow. “They’ll have to get really close to get at that.”

  “Like any man has in…” She thought a second. “Forget it. If I have to count, it’s too embarrassing to mention.”

  They laughed and Liz sobered first. “If someone would kidnap Noble, for whatever reason, they could come after you as well.”

  “I know. I’m going back to the hotel after this.” She thought of that hulk in the cottage and the damage he’d already done. If he knew of the translation, then he knew far more than anyone should. “Let me know if anyone comes asking about him, okay?” She plucked a business card bearing only her name and new cell number from her leather satchel and laid it on her desk. All calls were rerouted through blind connections.

  Liz walked her to the door. “What are you doing, Olivia? Aren’t the police looking?”

  “They are, yes…” Oh hell, she didn’t have a lie handy, and hated giving one to a friend. She was saved when Liz’s cell phone buzzed, and she turned away to answer. Olivia grabbed her arm, and motioned she was leaving. Liz squeezed her hand, then went back to her crisis. Olivia left the offices.

  In the main hall, she skimmed the visitors for anyone without a purpose before she went out a side door, then walked to the outer yard. White catering trucks pulled into the delivery lot and she skirted around them to the front. Deciding to leave her car in the lot, she walked to the street. Traffic moved past, stymied by the crowds of people here for the festival. She smiled at the mix of medieval and Jacobin costumes—a lot of nice kilts, she thought, walking. Getting this flash to Cruz was essential. He had a mind like Noble’s and could unwind a puzzle faster than she could. But her stomach rudely demanded attention, and she headed toward the aroma of food. And maybe some chocolate.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was dusting off the crumbs from a buttery scone and sipping a decadently rich latte when her cell phone rang. She juggled the Styrofoam cup to grab it, walking. She glanced at the number and stopped short. The cup slipped from her hand.

  Noble.

  Sebastian waved as Officer MacAwley eased back into traffic, and he sipped coffee, closing his eyes for a moment and wondering when he’d get to sleep. Flying Dragon Six with a red-eye flight plan was catching up to him. He drank more, the hot liquid waking him up enough to notice a car slowing traffic and he followed the black sedan as it slid to a stop at the curb.

  Riley hopped out. “It’s Noble’s. It was in the Enniskillen Airport lot.”

  “It’s a relic from the eighties,” Sebastian said. Noble hated spending money on cars and the Allegro was a prime example.

  “Runs well, though. Horrific mileage.” Riley yanked the passenger door, and popped open the glove box. “I found plane tickets to Greenland in here.” He handed them over.

  “That’s a new one.”

  “Garda has been all over it, but since it was in the lot when he was kidnapped, they processed it and let it go. Safia says those tickets were not paid for on the credit statement you found at the cottage.”

  Sebastian frowned, examining them. “He was supposed to board the day after he was taken. The return date is open.”

  “He’s ready to rock, that much I know for certain.” Riley walked to the rear of the car and unlocked the trunk, then stepped back.

  Inside were two boxes, opened and filled with cold-weather gear, still with the tags. Sebastian poked through it. “He even has snowshoes, for pity’s sake. What the hell is in Greenland that has to do with research in Ireland?”

  “Maybe Dr. McNamara can tell us.” Riley closed the trunk, and tossed him the keys. “We’ve got just a few minutes of her time. None if Officer MacAwley hadn’t called.” He gestured to the catering trucks at the side doors a block away. “There’s some event tonight, probably why the streets are so crowded.”

  Sebastian’s gaze followed a man dressed like Friar Tuck and thought, tame compared to Mardi Gras. They went inside, the cool air greeting them with fragrant flowers decorating a grand foyer rising nearly two stories. Their path was marked with rich polished woods and amazing detail molding. The massive house beckoned for a slow stroll and study.

  “I know a lot of history because of Noble. It’s kind of hard not to get excited when he gets into it.” Noble was full of oddball facts.

  “He’s a great storyteller,” Riley said with a smile. “He should be writing books instead of selling them.”

  “Then he’d be talking more about it.” He shook his head. “For him to be taken at that time says he was watched. I’m not much help. I can’t recall him ever saying exactly what he was working on. Neither can Jasmine.” Who wasn’t happy about being woken to answer that.

  “I didn’t get anything from the local colleges, but Noble visited the National Museum briefly, researching a bunch of different subjects,” Riley said softly. “Vikings, mostly.”

  Sebastian’s brows shot high. The giant, he thought.

  “Vikings tore through Ireland, Wales, and Scotland centuries ago,” Riley said. “Few Norsemen settled, but they’re still finding proof all over Ireland.”

  “But there isn’t a piece of history worth lives, so what’s so dangerous about research?” Still no answers, he thought and vented his frustration by squeezing a little rubber ball, forcing the torn muscles in his wrist to obey. It was productive, he told himself, becaus
e he couldn’t stop envisioning Noble in the hands of someone trained…well, like Dragon One. But right now, he’d like to wring the old man’s neck for not talking to him.

  They walked to the information desk and the cute blonde sitting behind it looked up and smiled. “Well, well. Riley Donovan, this is a surprise.”

  Sebastian glanced at him, highly amused because he could tell by Riley’s expression he didn’t have a clue who she was. “Saved by a name tag,” he whispered.

  “This proves I should not come home,” Riley muttered.

  “Your misspent youth catching up to you?”

  Riley sighed, resigned. “I’m lucky Safia thinks it’s hysterical.” He plastered on a smile and walked closer. “Rowena. How has life treated you?”

  The woman’s smile was electric, and it took seconds before she noticed Riley’s wedding ring. She busted with laughter. Riley showed off a picture of his bride till Sebastian tapped his watch. He got to the point. Within a minute, a statuesque brunette appeared, a clipboard tucked to her chest.

  Introductions made, she stared curiously at him for an unusually long moment before she said, “Forgive me for being so brisk, gentlemen, but I have lots to accomplish and few hours to do it.”

  “I appreciate you seeing us,” Sebastian said. “Would you like us to walk along with you? I just have a couple questions.”

  “Brilliant.” As she walked, she handed him several crisp sheets of paper. “This is the history of the Kilbarron ruins and what we have on the folktale, but as Officer MacAwley mentioned, the story has several versions depending on the area and the clan sects. It’s never been a solid fable. So what can I answer for you?”

  Sebastian got to the point. “What did archaeologists find in the Friary near Kilbarron castle?”

  Her gaze narrowed sharply and he could feel the door closing with her expression. “What makes you ask that?”

  Sebastian shrugged. “The search for the missing child uncovered the Friary. It was excavated, then returned to its pre-excavation state. Archaeologists would have kept going and restored it. That makes me think you found something tremendous and didn’t want to bring attention to the site.”