Chapter 7 #2
“We’ve been thinking about the break-in,” Lance said, pulling out a chair to sit opposite me.
“You’re working on an item that was seized during an FBI black-market raid.
Someone connected to the auction might want the sword back.
If they do, their first thought would be to break in here.
But the security’s good, and Sam will have the rest addressed by the end of the day. ”
Arthur picked up for him. “You’re the next logical step. Assuming that’s who broke into your hotel, the photos would have confirmed you’re the authenticator. They might approach you and try to buy your cooperation. Or they might look for leverage.”
And that sounded even more ominous. “Leverage?”
“It could be anything,” Lance said. “Information about your family, your work, your contacts.”
My stomach churned. Leverage, like revealing the sexual misconduct accusations Lionel made against me? I’d shut the rumors down before they spread too far. But if someone went public with them?
“And there’s more.” Arthur shoved his hands in his pockets. “After we dropped you at Sam’s building last night, we sent someone to check the area. There was a car idling in the parking lot around two in the morning. Engine running, lights off. When our guy approached, they drove away.”
Goosebumps ran up my arms, and I hugged them to my chest. While I’d been trying to convince myself the worst part of my night was over, someone had been outside?
“We can’t be certain it was about you or about the sword,” Arthur said. “But combined with the break-in, we’d like to offer close protection while you’re working on this job.”
“Pro bono,” Lance said. “No cost to you or Caine-Ferraro’s.”
Close protection? “Like bodyguards?”
“The two of us would trade off,” Arthur said.
Lance shot him an irritated look, which added one more question to my quickly growing list. “We’d stay nearby, but unobtrusive. You’d barely notice us.”
Not notice either of these men in a room? That would not be possible. Arthur was already starring in my dreams, and Lance was… well, he was still Lance, and he’d called me “babe” last night.
These men were not shadows.
“I appreciate your offer, but I think you’re overreacting.
The police have a report. The hotel has footage.
And I’m staying in a secure building.” I straightened the printouts in front of me, more to busy my hands than because they needed straightening.
“Besides, I won’t be in Brenton much longer. I’m going to Cornwall.”
Arthur blinked. “Cornwall?”
“England,” I clarified, in case he thought I meant one of the other Cornwalls in the United States.
“I know where Cornwall is. Why?”
I turned the laptop toward him and showed him the two images side by side. “There’s a symbol on the sword’s ring that matches one in a church there. Plus, there’s a partial inscription on the tower—”
“‘Porta,’” Arthur read from the screen. “Door?”
The little jolt hit me again. Because that was now officially two Latin words this man knew. I’d have to stop finding that attractive at some point.
Not today, apparently.
“The sword says ‘key,’” I said, trying to recover my sanity. “The church says ‘door.’ I can’t make out the rest of the inscription on the sword, so I’m hoping the church inscription will help me figure it out. But I need to see it in person.”
Arthur glanced at Lance, then said, “We have a jet. We can fly you direct.”
I bit back a laugh. “That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s faster,” Sam said, without looking up from her phone, in a tone that made the wild suggestion sound almost logical.
Almost? No, it did sound logical. The sword’s travel case would pass for a musical instrument to anyone not X-raying it.
Maybe a saxophone. But if it were X-rayed, there would be questions.
Swords weren’t allowed on commercial flights, but this one was so corroded I’d have to swing it like a mace to hurt someone.
Arthur continued, as though he were making a pitch. “My family has a cottage in Cornwall, and we can use it as a base.”
“And I’ll be there,” Lance said. “Not just Arthur.”
Great. Me, my ex-boyfriend, and Sex-on-a-Stick Penn. All of us in a little cottage in the English countryside. How was this my reality?
Sam tucked her phone into a pocket. “Do you want to take the sword with you?”
I hadn’t even considered not taking it. “Cross-checking what I find in Cornwall would be significantly easier if I had it with me.”
She nodded. “I have legal custody of all items from the auction, so if you’re taking the sword, you’ll need FBI approval.
I’ll talk to my contact about a quick security audit, but I expect they’ll decline.
On the other hand, if I can tell them the sword’s traveling with a vetted security detail, they’ll most likely accept. ”
I pulled one of the printouts closer to me. This was a real lead, and if I agreed to their plan, it would mean I could focus on my research rather than logistics. I wouldn’t have to book my own travel, my own hotel, or a vehicle. No maps. No possibility of getting lost on a back road.
And if the FBI required the sword to travel with bodyguards, that meant I had to travel with bodyguards. “Fine. But I’m going for the research. I’ll take the protection. But the work comes first.”
“Understood.” Arthur took his phone out. “When do you want to leave?”
“As soon as the FBI clears it?”
With a nod to Sam, Arthur began dialing and left.
“Shoot me a text when you’re ready.” Lance let out a long sigh and stood. “But we’ll probably be at the Lansing airport within the hour.”
An hour? I looked at Sam, as though she could explain what had just happened.
“Let’s get your things packed,” said Sam. “I’ll call my contact on the drive over to the condo.”
To Lance, I said, “I guess I’ll see you at the airport in an hour.”