“But he didn’t suspect you,” Evan pointed out. “You said he contacted you before he left Luxor, telling you to see Jessie if you needed more information.”
Donovan hadn’t understood the cryptic message at the time. Now that he did it was hard to be glad that Wally had trusted him, not in the face of the greater pain of losing his friend and mentor.
Evan rubbed his chin as he watched Donovan intently. “I’d say Wally left this up to you. What do you want to do?”
“We don’t have much choice. We’ll limit Wally’s information as much as possible, keep it to you and the four of us on the team. I can’t withhold actionable information from anyone, not if we’re operating as a team. But I can watch for anything suspicious, like giving misleading reports or attempting to make contact with the locals.”
“Won’t that be hard to do, to keep track of what everyone is doing in the field?”
Damn near impossible. “What choice do I have? If there is a mole and I’m watching for a slipup, maybe he’ll give himself away. Or maybe, just maybe, Wally’s suspicion was wrong.”
Evan gave an unconvincing nod. “Maybe.”
Donovan didn’t believe it either. Wally had gone to a lot of trouble to hide the information they needed to find the hostages, even sacrificing his life. He must have stumbled upon something big. Something important.
Something he expected Donovan to figure out.
Chapter Six
They met in a conference room this time and started from the beginning: what was said, what topics Wally brought up, and everything he’d done, right down to the departing hug Jess had reluctantly allowed. Donovan had to admit Jess was as cooperative as possible, but two fruitless hours later she looked ready to quit.
“I’m sorry, I can’t think of anything else. It was all meaningless chitchat except for his idea for a book, which was pretty specific. Stupid, but specific.”
“And a mention of your first book,” he reminded her.
She nodded.
“It has to mean something.” He thought about it for the hundredth time, then turned to Evan. “Did Wally keep copies of her books here?”
“No, why?”
“I just want to see them.” Anything to help him figure out why Wally had pitched an idea for a new one.
“You still can,” Jess said, pointing to the laptop in front of him. “Look them up at an online bookseller. They let you look through the pages.”
He hadn’t known that—showed how much free time he had for reading. He reached for the laptop. While Mitch and Kyle joked about the sexual innuendos behind beavers and snakes, Donovan put Jess Maulier’s name in the search box of a major book retailer and pressed enter. In a flash, a column of children’s books appeared, several of them claiming to be from the “award-winning series” or “acclaimed bestselling children’s author Jess Maulier.” He blinked at the hard proof of what had sounded like nothing more than a silly pastime. Jess was a respected author in her field. And a prolific one, judging by the string of book covers shown.
“That one.” Jess spoke close to his ear and he realized she’d left her chair to lean over his shoulder and look at the screen. For a moment his senses were derailed by a light, flowery scent, and he was tempted to turn his head and sniff the hair that brushed his temple. He squelched the urge and focused on the finger she extended toward the screen.
A slender finger, tipped with muted pink polish. Her skin was creamy, probably soft and warm. Delicate enough to be entirely engulfed by his hand if he…
Oh, for fuck’s sake, he admonished himself. Keep your mind on the job and out of your pants.
Stabbing at the mouse pad, he brought up the book she indicated and stared at the cover picture of a cuddly groundhog proudly decked out in a blaze-orange vest that proclaimed Mossy Log Meadow Safety Patrol. “Uh…cute.”
Making an impatient sound, she reached past him and moved her finger over the mouse pad, opening the book to the copyright page, then the title page, then the beginning of the book. He did take that sniff then, surreptitiously inhaling the scent of spring that wafted from her hair and skin. He could have easily spent another minute absorbing her smell, but she moved back suddenly, and the loss snapped him back to reality.
“There,” she said, and returned to her chair.
He looked. And read.
Gordon Groundhog was worried about a group of bullies who taunted him and his friends on their way to school. Donovan smiled at the drawings, captivated in spite of his cynical comments. Jess was a talented artist. Gordon’s friends were a trio of squirrels who appeared to be siblings. That called for more charming cuddliness, even if their names were a little too silly for his taste—Ginger, Cinnamon, and Nutmeg. The residents of the Mossy Log Meadow obviously liked themes because their friend the crow was named Pepper, and the bullies…