“It better be,” she said. “I spent all my money on it.”
“Don’t worry. I told you to come here, so it’s my treat.”
She didn’t argue. The room was expensive. “I have to admit, I’m kind of surprised you chose this place. Aren’t people supposed to hide out in seedy motels?”
“Dumb people do.”
“So do dead ones,” cracked Jones.
She grimaced. “I don’t follow.”
Payne sat on the couch and signaled for her to sit on one of the chairs. This way, he could study her as they spoke. He still had a lot to learn about her. Including her truthfulness.
“Let me ask you a question,” he said. “Did you feel safe in the lobby?”
She nodded as she took her seat, folding her legs underneath her.
“Would you have in a seedy motel?”
“Probably not,” she admitted as she grabbed a pillow. She clutched it against her chest like a security blanket.
“So right off the bat there’s a problem. Not only would you have to worry about the guy who’s following you, but you’d have to worry about the crack dealer with the baseball bat.”
She smiled. “Good point.”
“How about security? Does a roach motel have top-notch security?”
“No.”
“Of course not. No security guards, no video surveillance, no key cards or deadbolts. Even worse, seedy motels are reluctant to call the police for any reason because they don’t want the cops snooping around. It’s bad for their side businesses, like drugs and prostitution.” He shook his head. “By comparison, this place is Fort Knox.”
“I have to admit, I never considered that.”
“That’s okay. That’s why you called us. For our expertise.”
“Speaking of which—”
“Uh-oh,” Jones teased as he sat on the couch. “This is when she asks for our résumé.”
She blushed slightly. “Not your résumé, but . . .”
“It’s okay,” Payne assured her. “You don’t know us. We don’t know you. All of us are tired and a little confused. What do you want to know?”
She gave it some thought. “How did you know Richard?”
Payne shook his head. “We didn’t.”
Allison clutched her pillow tighter. “Wait. I thought you were friends.”
“Nope, we never met the guy. Never heard his name until Sunday.”
“But he gave me your number. He said to call you if something happened.”
Payne nodded. “I know, but we never talked to him.”
“Then . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“How did he get my number? A friend named Petr Ulster. He runs a facility called—”
She interrupted him. “The Ulster Archives.”
He looked at her inquisitively. “Do you know Petr?”
“No, but I know the Archives. They’re legendary in my field.”
“Which is?”
“History. I’m a doctoral student at Stanford.”
She paused for a moment, waiting for the obligatory blonde joke that was sure to follow. Or a stupid question about her looks. How could someone so pretty be so smart? No matter where she went it was always the same. Especially with guys. For some reason, they were amazed that beauty and brains could exist in the same package. It was pathetic. And so predictable.
But Payne surprised her. “How’s your thesis going?”
The question made her smile.
“What?” he asked. “Did I miss something?”
“No. It’s just an interesting question. Slightly unexpected.” She bit her lower lip, trying to hide her reaction. “My research was going well until Sunday. Now, not so good.”
“Wait,” Jones said. “You were here for research? I thought Byrd was your boss.”
“Technically, he was. He hired me as a personal assistant for his trip to Russia. But since his project fell under my area of expertise, I’ve been working on my thesis as well.”
“Out of curiosity,” Payne asked, “what is your area of expertise?”
Her smile grew wider. “Ancient treasures.”
31
Payne and Jones were exhausted. Their bodies and brains craved a full night of sleep. But Allison’s answer piqued their interest enough to keep them awake a little while longer.
“Did you say treasures?” Jones asked with a mischievous grin.
“Yes,” she answered, “ancient treasures.”
“I like treasures.”
Allison smiled. “Most people do.”
Payne leaned forward. “What does that have to do with Byrd? What was his project?”
“Richard was fascinated with Ancient Greece. He spent half of his life looking for ancient relics. It was his obsession.”