There was no way it was that easy. It also didn’t address many of her concerns. But first things first. “Why did you say those three places, a museum, bookstore, and the tombs?”
“I’ve been thinking about Wally’s story. The whole point is to tell us where the hostages are being held, right? And he insisted on including an old vase, which means the vase is an important clue to where they are. I figure the best places to find an old vase in Luxor are the tombs or a museum. Outside possibility—a bookstore, because you write books, and maybe we’re talking about some famous photo in an old book, or something. I don’t know. Figuring that out is your job.”
“Sure,” she said drily. “Simple.”
“I have faith in you.”
“How could you possibly?”
His steady gaze held hers. “Wally did. That’s all I need to know.”
It stopped her cold. The father she barely knew and hadn’t seen in fifteen years had trusted her enough to put the lives of two strangers in her hands. He had faith she’d solve his riddle. That alone was staggering. That Donovan thought so highly of her father he didn’t question that trust, not even after hearing her own doubts, was more than she could fathom. She couldn’t imagine having that much faith in someone.
People broke promises. They misjudged. They changed their minds. Her father had done it when he’d deserted her. Of course, learning that her mother had insisted he stay away had tossed a big wrench in her neat little theory. She couldn’t blame everything on him anymore. Also that Wally had feared for her safety if it were known he had a daughter—she hadn’t realized that. It complicated the story, messing up the pigeonholes she’d created in her mind for everything that had happened. The divorce, her father’s promise to stay in touch, his disappearance from her life, and the resulting trauma that Dr. Epstein said was responsible for her inability to trust men, to let go of her inhibitions. Even sexually. It messed up all the truths she’d been trying to live with.
What was she supposed to do about that?
She must have been staring. Donovan looked at her expectantly. “Jess? Did you have more questions?”
She returned to her current situation with a mental jerk. “Yes. What’s an abaya?”
“It’s that robe-like covering Muslim women wear, usually black. I’m sure Avery packed a couple for you.”
“Yes, she did. What do I wear under it?”
“Uh…”
“And is a hijab that thing that goes on the head? How do I put that on? When can I take it off? Can I wear sunglasses?” He opened his mouth to reply, but she’d tapped into her mental list, the one he’d asked her not to write down, and she kept reciting it. “Is the water safe to drink? How about eating the food? Can I get organic produce? If a man speaks to me, can I answer, or do I have to defer to you? How about another woman? What if they ask me my husband’s name and what he does? I should know, just in case.”
“Uh, yeah. You can be vague. Make up a common name, like Ahmed. Tell them he’s a businessman and has investments in many properties.”
“Okay. And I don’t understand this role I’m playing. Do I have to act meek and quiet? Submissive?”
“No. As the wife of a powerful man, you’re most likely educated and driven. Well traveled, elegant, and sophisticated, but not arrogant.” He smiled. “Good questions, by the way.”
“Thanks. Why is that amusing?”
His smile spread to a grin. “Wally would have thought of the same things, the details of understanding a culture. He was good at that.”
“But he wouldn’t have needed to tell you this stuff.”
“No, we all have experience in the countries we’re sent to, and we don’t generally take civilians with us. Taking you along is a first, and it wouldn’t have happen if Wally hadn’t been killed…” He seemed to withdraw for a moment, his brows puckering at some inner pain, before he visibly regrouped and cleared his throat. “Besides, culture is not my area. I’m more about…well, let’s call it the action part.”
She understood that to mean guns and fighting and was glad they didn’t expect her to participate in any of that.
“Water,” he said, continuing his answers. “Stick to bottled, and drink plenty of it. The heat can be brutal, but it’s early winter there now, and the weather should be comfortable—fifties at night, mideighties during the day.”
“That’s a relief, if I’m going to have to wear a black robe. What do I wear under it?”