by Jan Thompson
“Why did she agree to it?”
“She wants to get a special gift for her brother, and 819A has it,” Stella said. “In fact, the moment I saw her searching for that artifact, I knew we can help each other.”
“What artifact?” Jake found it curious that Beatrice had agreed to go so far out of her way to get whatever it was she was getting for Benjamin.
“You’ll see when she comes in.”
“Then she goes home?”
Stella nodded. “First thing in the morning.”
“Yeah?” Jake felt relieved.
“Yep. She got the information out of him like a charm, and she’s done. All in one evening’s work.”
“Not really,” Jake corrected her. “She’s been in town for four days.”
“And you’ve been hovering around her like you’re her hero or something.”
Am I her hero? “I wasn’t hovering.”
“You were too. You attended every workshop she went to.”
That was true. Jake had rearranged his schedule at the conference to be with Beatrice.
“Didn’t you have a good time?” Stella asked.
Jake had to admit he did. And he didn’t have to pay a dime for it. “Well, I don’t think I got much out of the workshops. Most of it went over my head.”
Stella laughed as the hotel room door clicked.
Her hand flew to her holster.
Jake stepped back.
Beatrice entered the room and locked the door behind her. In her hand was a small bag.
She looked surprised to see him.
“Are you okay?” Jake asked.
“I need a shower.”
“I bet.”
“Talk to me afterwards.” She grabbed some clothes from the closet and headed for the shower. She took her small bag with her into the bathroom.
As the shower ran, Jake turned his attention to the suddenly quiet Stella.
“This can’t be.” Her eyes were still on the screen. “I thought they took care of Benghazi.”
“What?” Jake was curious now.
“819A said he wanted to take Beatrice to Libya—specifically to Benghazi.”
“Because?”
“He said he wanted her to see the desert where his family came from.”
“819A is Libyan?”
“Oxford educated, he left Libya as a baby. However, this is just now coming to light.”
“Okay.” Jake waited.
The bathroom door opened. Beatrice walked out in a tee shirt and a pair of capris. Her wet hair was wrapped up in a towel.
She must have heard the last bits of the their conversation. “Mr. Buchanan was his uncle.”
Stella looked stunned. “The arms dealer who sold weapons for Molyneux so she could fund her terrorism?”
“How did you figure that out?” Jake asked.
“It was easy.” Beatrice produced the bag she had brought into the room. Inside was a small wooden box.
“Is that a puzzle box?” Jake asked.
“Not just any puzzle box. It’s a Japanese puzzle box or himitsu-bako,” Beatrice said. “This box is one of the original puzzle boxes from the Kanagawa prefectures, and made by local craftsmen in the late nineteenth century. That puts it in the Meiji era in Japan. Benjamin wants it, and I decided to get it for him.”
“Go on,” Stella said.
“819A said this box belonged to his dead uncle. How, I do not know.” Beatrice studied the box. “We talked a bit more after the dance, and he was very sad that his uncle was dead.”
“Yeah, but that wasn’t us.”
No, it wasn’t an FBI’s operation. Jake had heard about it. It had been the work of several private groups, including the security forces of a Middle Eastern kingdom whose family members had been threatened by Buchanan, working with a private organization who had been targeted by Molyneux several years prior.
“So you just talked. That’s why it took you a while to get up here,” Jake said.
Beatrice smiled at him. “Were you worried?”
Stella laughed. “I don’t think Jake wants you to do this type of stuff.”
“I was going to be at the conference anyway,” Beatrice said. “My brother wants this box badly.”
Stella nodded. “When I found that our paths were crossing, I made sure that the bureau paid for everything if she could help us get some information out of 819A.”
“Thank you for this nice suite,” Beatrice said. “And my plane tickets.”
“Sorry I couldn’t get you first class. No seats.” Stella returned to her laptop. “So it says here that someone is trying to reestablish Buchanan’s stronghold in Libya. Could it be 819A?”
“That makes sense.” Beatrice stepped closer to Stella, walking by Jake. “He’s living with the memory of his favorite uncle.”
Jake did everything he could not to reach out and hold Beatrice’s hand in front of Stella. He focused on the box instead. “Did 819A give you the puzzle box?”
Beatrice chuckled. “No. I negotiated the price down.”
“To what?”
“Nothing for you to worry about. Suffice to say that Benjamin would have to sell something to pay for it. He doesn’t have room for everything either.”
Jake had nothing more to ask about the box. He had met Benjamin in Charleston over six months ago. They had parted amicably after their rescue mission in Poland, but Jake wondered if he would ever see Benjamin again.
Or Beatrice.
Maybe he should calm down. When this conference was over, he might not see Beatrice again. He should be grateful for this opportunity to see her.
“Well, thank you, Beatrice. That was very helpful.” Stella closed her laptop. “Have a safe flight home tomorrow morning.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Tomorrow morning?” Jake asked. “You’re not staying for the last session?”
“There’s no reason to. Besides, I need to fly back to Charleston to deliver this box. My brother can’t wait to see it.”
Jake wondered if he should change his flight schedule from the afternoon to morning so he could fly home at the same time as Beatrice. Should he? Shouldn’t he?
“How about some desserts?” Stella asked. “We can order in.”
“I’ll have to walk it off, but why not?” Beatrice replied. “What would you like, Jake?”
“Me?” Jake asked. “I was going to go back to my room and pack.”
He thought he might see if he could change his flight to the morning so he could carpool to the airport with Beatrice.
“Really, Jake?” Stella laughed.
“Stay. Please.” Beatrice lifted the puzzle box up. “Extra scoops of ice cream if you can figure out how to unlock this box.”
“Ah, a mental challenge. How can I resist?”
Chapter Fifty-One
Charleston daily high temperatures in March fluctuated from the upper fifties to the low eighties. This afternoon, it was a pleasant sixty-two degrees with sunshine all around. Beatrice wandered into the garden, where Benjamin had ordered tulips, daffodils, and gardenias planted in the flower beds leading toward the butterfly garden on the other side of the herb garden.
Beatrice was sure that if Benjamin hadn’t been a treasure hunter, he’d be a gentleman gardener. However, these days he was busy catching up with Dad, filling in the missing years, and then doing father-son things such as fishing…for information.
Often they had spoken about going on an adventure together to somewhere local. They began talking about searching for the lost Confederate gold, which Beatrice wasn’t sure existed. It was certainly a folklore, but was it even true?
Still, it provided Benjamin and Dad something in common to talk about.
As for Beatrice, she was happy that they had found Dad again, although that could never make up for the loss of her biological mother, who had been with them only for the first five years of Beatrice’s life.
Beatrice wandered among the flowers and shady trees, and re
gretted leaving her phone in the house. All she had with her was a hardcover novel she was hoping to start reading. Stella had given it to her just before she flew out of Zurich back in November.
She remembered that Friday morning, eating breakfast with Jake one last time at the hotel. Since they were both undercover, they had been able to keep their disguises intact.
Jake had tried to put on a happy face, but she could tell that he would have liked to fly with her back to the States. Unfortunately, Jake and Stella had received word that the mole in the FBI was on the move. And off they had gone on their new assignment.
The sun was getting warmer, and Beatrice decided to head back to the house. There wasn’t any bench to sit on among the flowers, and she did not want to sit on the grass where the ants and bugs were.
The porch was empty as was most of the ten thousand-square-foot mansion. The personal chef came at certain times of the day. The maids cleaned the house at certain days of the week. The rest of the time, there were only five people in the house.
With their new mission, Jake and Dad kept Kenichi busy. Kenichi had seen his own potential of working with the hackers at Binary Systems, Inc., with whom he had collaborated to track down Molyneux. Now Beatrice and her brother were concerned he’d leave them for greener pastures.
To this day, Kenichi was still waiting for a call from Leland.
“Why go there when you get paid twice here?” Benjamin had blurted one fine day, pretty much confirming that Kenichi was working for Benjamin as well as Beatrice at the same time.
Double pay.
“I wish I could get double pay for the same amount of work,” Beatrice whispered into the wind as she climbed the porch.
When she looked up, there he was.
Sitting on a rocker.
His hair was trimmed short. He was clean shaven. And he wore a plaid shirt and a pair of khaki shorts over hiking boots.
“Hey.” Jake got up from the rocker and walked toward Beatrice. “Some hideaway you have here. No wonder your brother wouldn’t leave.”
Beatrice stood there at the edge of the porch.
She didn’t know what to think.
Jake.
“How did they let you in?” Beatrice asked.
“Your brother invited me.”
“Why?”
“I asked him if he would let me date his little sister.” Jake lifted Beatrice’s free hand—the other was still clutching the hardcover book—and gently kissed the back of her hand.
“I don’t need his permission,” Beatrice said sweetly. Inside, she was pleased that Jake had respected her brother enough to check in with him.
“How did you contact him?”
“Your dad gave me his number.”
“My dad?” Beatrice almost said she also didn’t need Dad’s permission to date. “I thought he was in WITSEC.”
“Yes, but he’s advising the FBI Art Crime Team on stolen World War II art pieces, so I got a message to him.”
“What did he say?”
“That he’s been out of your life for so long that he didn’t feel he had the right to approve or disapprove.”
“I don’t need his approval either.”
“He connected me to your brother.” He rubbed the back of Beatrice’s hand with his thumb.
“What did my brother say?” Beatrice knew his brother wanted the best for her.
“He said, ‘Haven’t you been together already?’ I told him that was for work.”
“We kissed on company time?” Beatrice rolled her eyes.
“Today I’m not on company time. Speaking of work, I bring you news from Stella. Your conversation with 819A yielded a treasure trove of data that goes a long way to protect national security. Your country thanks you.”
“I’m glad to serve.” It paid well, but that was part of the deal. And besides, she also achieved her goal of getting the Japanese puzzle box for Benjamin to add to his vast collection of puzzles.
“We handed the Libya information to the CIA, and they took care of it.” That was all Jake said but Beatrice didn’t ask for more information.
“You could have emailed or texted me regarding all that.”
“I wouldn’t be able to do this if I weren’t here in person.” Jake gently pulled Beatrice toward him.
She leaned against his chest. Feeling his warmth. Listening to his heartbeat.
They were silent for a while.
Then they were talking about work again.
“What are you doing these days?” Jake asked.
Beatrice wondered why he came all the way here to ask her about her work.
“I’m thinking of putting my doctorate to good use. Teach at some local colleges or lecture at museums about World War II artifacts and such.”
“Not much traveling there?” Jake’s eyes were on hers.
“Only every now and then. And certainly no undercover work. You? When do you go incommunicado again?”
Jake rubbed her shoulders. “About that, I moved into a supervisory role.”
“Meaning a desk job?” Beatrice was surprised.
Jake nodded. “Thing is, I need to be myself after a while. I can’t be undercover all the time. At my age…”
“You’re what? Thirty-eight? You’re talking like you’re eighty-three.”
“How did you know how old I am?”
Beatrice didn’t say.
“That goes into the box of mystery questions that included how you knew I was drowning outside Cannes.”
Beatrice didn’t want to get into an argument with Jake, but she thought he should know the truth.
“My brother and I, with Kenichi, were tracking everyone who had anything to do with Molyneux. With your mole in the FBI selling data in the black web, your personal information was up for grabs.”
“Personal? How personal?”
“Age, height, that sort of thing.”
“How I squeeze my toothpaste?” Jake raised his eyebrows.
Beatrice laughed. “No, mainly your age and lots of photos of you.”
“So you began tracking me.”
“My whole team was. For only about a year. Not much to find, really. You weren’t doing much.”
Jake laughed. “Normally I’d argue with you, but it was true. I was transitioning out of being undercover.”
“It helps that we were also watching Molyneux. I didn’t out you.”
“I know you didn’t. The mole did—directly to Molyneux. That’s how I ended up at sea outside Cannes.”
“As for that, after we saw the news reports that Helen Hu et al had helped to find the Petros Eggs and a few broken panels from the Amber Room, we started tracking her. She was in Cannes. So we were in Cannes.”
Jake nodded. “And you were also after Philomena.”
“All things considered, I’m glad we came out of the whole situation alive.”
“Thank God.” Beatrice grinned. “And now we’re both going to be bored to tears being stuck at our new desk jobs.”
“Are we?”
“Aren’t we made for adventure?”
“I had fun while it lasted,” Jake said. “Now I’m all too happy to let young whippersnapper agents go instead of me. They have more energy, require less sleep, and they’d do daredevil things I don’t want to do any more.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I figured it’s time for me to settle down and have my own family.” Jake thumbed her jawline ever so gently.
A family? Did he say family?
“You know?” Jake whispered in her ear.
“Know what?”
“Know how I feel about you. That kiss on the bus. On the plane.”
Beatrice remembered every moment, every touch.
“I have a surprise for you.” Jake produced a small box from his pocket. “I know you like music boxes, but I don’t know if you like this one.”
Beatrice studied it. It was old. Maybe nineteenth century. “Where did you find this box?”
&n
bsp; “I bought it at an antique shop.”
“So tiny. What tune does it play?”
“Open it and see.” Jake was on one knee before Beatrice opened the box.
“Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” filled their space.
Beatrice laughed so hard that she had tears in her eyes.
Not a classic tune that Beatrice had expected. Obviously the music box was not an original, but more important to her was the fact that Jake had bought her one.
The tune went on for a while. Beatrice almost sang along.
When she looked inside the box again, she gasped at the diamond ring Jake had placed next to the pinned cylinder. “What…”
“Beatrice Glynn, love is your middle name. I’ve thought and prayed about this long and hard—more so after Zurich, where we met again after our death-defying adventure together.” He blinked.
Were those tears in his eyes?
“Is it possible for me to fall in love with someone so fast, so hard, and to never want be with anyone else for the rest of my life? I say yes.”
Beatrice nodded in agreement.
“The last four months without you have been the most tormenting time of my life, and I kept thinking I may never see you again, or that you would’ve have found someone new.”
Beatrice shook her head. “No one else.”
“That’s good to know.” Jake paused. “Clearly God has brought us together again. I don’t want to leave this place and never see you again. If I have to quit my job, I’ll do it in a heartbeat just to be with you.”
Beatrice was stunned. He had spoken what had been in her heart. She too would quit her job to be with him. In fact, she already had. She could teach anywhere in her new job.
“I know there are many details to sort out, but there is one most important thing. Do you love me?”
Tears pooled in Beatrice’s eyes. Slowly, she nodded.
“Since when?”
“Since…” Dare she say it? Truth would always prevail, so she might as well tell him now. “I don’t know when it all began… Perhaps Cannes. Perhaps earlier.”
“I figured.” Jake was still on his knees.
“You asked.”
“While it seemed like a surprise to you that I’d pop the question today, I also know that you’ve known me longer than I’ve known you.”