“But not a high-end shop,” Jess said.
Donovan raised his eyebrows. “Better merchandise equals expensive? You could be right.”
His acknowledgment made up for her embarrassment over her last question, so she hated to add a disappointing corollary. “It also might mean something else that’s going to make it harder to find—in fact, I’m pretty sure it does. Better might mean black market.”
She had everyone’s attention. “Why do you think so?” Donovan asked.
“You have to understand the field my father worked in. It’s illegal to buy and sell antiquities, but that doesn’t stop everyone from wanting them. Egypt has lost a ton of antiquities to foreign countries and private collectors. It used to be standard practice for archeologists to ship mummies and statues back home. That’s why you can find the Rosetta Stone in the British Museum and the famous bust of Nefertiti in Berlin. Until recently, the mummy of Ramesses I, the founding pharaoh of a great dynasty, was a curiosity in the Niagara Daredevil Museum and Hall of Fame. Some museums are now voluntarily repatriating mummies and sculptures to Egypt, and others are doing it under duress, but there are some collectors who still feel they have a right to whatever they can buy. Too many collectors. And if there’s a demand, there’s a market. That means the black market is the dread of all legitimate scholars, who would prefer not to have Egypt’s treasures scattered around the world and closeted away in museum basements and private collections. It makes the historical record difficult to reconstruct.”
She paused, feeling she had tapped into childhood memories and gone off on her father’s favorite rant. But they were paying attention. “Anyway, Wally’s message said ‘unfortunately,’ he’d found what he needed. How is it unfortunate that he found it? He wasn’t actually canceling an order, which would be the only thing Hakim might consider unfortunate. I think it means he found it in an unfortunate place, meaning with someone dealing in black-market antiquities. Saying it was in a small shop rules out a dishonest government dealing on the side, or a museum, both of which would otherwise be options. And the reference to better quality means this guy deals in expensive stuff. My guess is he has a shop with high-priced items, probably genuine quality stuff. That’s where I’d start looking.” She stopped, realizing she’d just told four professionals how to run their mission and immediately softened her stance. “At least, that’s how I see it.”
Donovan’s mouth slowly curved into a smile that sent tingles straight to her nipples. He looked at the other three members of the group. “Makes sense to me. Anyone have anything to add?”
“Just that this sounds like a job for you, Jess,” Kyle said. “You’re the only one among us who would have any idea if something was a real ancient artifact or a fake, and from what I know of black markets elsewhere, there are always plenty of fakes being passed off as real.”
“Well, yes, but I’m not an expert by any means. I could be fooled easily.”
“We’ll risk it. Kyle’s right,” Donovan said. “You know more about ancient Egypt than all of us put together and then some. That’s why you’re here. Plus, Wally trusted you to know whatever it is he needs you to know. The cover we worked up for you is perfect for this. Here’s how we’ll work it: You’ll be shopping for a special gift for your husband, who’s crazy about ancient Egypt. You have unlimited funds and want something unique, something original. For the right object, you’re willing to pay a lot, hint, hint. You’ll either get sent on your way with tight-lipped disapproval, or you’ll be escorted to a back room where the shop owner will pull out a special artifact that he just happened to come by. He’ll likely claim he was holding it for someone else but he might be willing to let it go for the right price.”
She could see it working, which was frightening. She wasn’t an actress or an undercover agent, and his plan required her to be both, stepping outside her comfort zone. The adrenaline rush of success was attractive, as much as her desire to help the team, but it could also be dangerous. Her world was one of rules and laws, carefully followed; she had no experience dealing with the criminal element.
An automatic protest rose in her throat, then died. Donovan wouldn’t understand. He didn’t live within narrow boundaries and rules, he simply did what was necessary at the moment. This was necessary. Incredibly, he seemed to believe she could do the same. She wanted him to be right, and not because it might please him. It would please her to know she could be that flexible, could break out of her rule-bound existence.