Silent Enemy. Lois Richer

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      “I sent her there, Shelby. I’ll be the one who goes to find her.”

      “I thought you said Samantha was capable, that she knew her job.”

      “She does. But anyone can run into trouble.” Daniel shook his head. “I know what you’re thinking, Shel.”

      “Oh, what’s that?” She sat watching him toss things into his briefcase.

      “That I feel guilty or something for denying her that promotion. But you’re wrong. This isn’t personal.”

      “Isn’t it?”

      “Okay.” He stopped fiddling and looked her straight in the eye. “We went out once. I thought it might go further but she didn’t want that. Fine. But that had nothing to do with my decision not to promote her. There wasn’t anything between us. Nothing serious.”

      She had that knowing look on her face. Daniel ignored it.

      “We argued right before she left.” It was more than an argument and he knew it. He bit his lip, admitted what Shelby already knew. “She’s the only person around here who can make me say things I shouldn’t. I let her go without straightening things out. I should have told her she merits promotion. It’s just that I felt she needed more experience. Now she needs help and—”

      “Daniel?”

      “Yes?” He glanced up.

      “Go.”

      “You really think—”

      “You think—that’s what is important here. Go to Peru or wherever she is. Find her.” She rose, grinning. “You even have my blessing if that’s what you want. Now what are you waiting for?”

      “Nothing.” He snapped the lid closed, swung the briefcase to his side and stepped around the desk. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

      “Let me know if you need help and I’ll send someone down. I’d prefer Callie, but—” She shrugged. “I’ll find someone else if you need them.”

      He leaned over, hugged her and brushed a kiss against her cheek.

      “My dear Shelby, did I ever tell you that the thing I like most about you is that you don’t ask questions?”

      She sniffed. “Not when I already know the answers. Be safe, Daniel.”

      He nodded and left, almost racing to the elevator. At the last moment before the doors closed, his secretary shoved a paper at him. Boarding at two in the afternoon. It was going to be tight, but he would be on that plane.

      And he was.

      As he pulled out his laptop and began to study the files he’d downloaded, Daniel was grateful he had the extra room first class provided. He began with the Finders file on the statue. Inca period. Held by a private collector for many years, the owner had a valuation certificate. He’d willed the statue to a museum in Brazil. Two emissaries from a delivery service had picked it up for transport, but the statue had been stolen while in their possession. Finders job was to find the statue and get it to the museum.

      The authenticity of that valuation certificate was still unverified and Tim’s notes indicated he had questions regarding the theft. He used the onboard phone to call Shelby to see if there was any news.

      “There was a message from Sam on the service telling you where to stay. She’ll contact you.”

      He plugged the location into his laptop, grimaced at the hotel description. “This place looks pretty grungy. Couldn’t Finders, Inc. spring for something a little more upscale?”

      “Maybe she doesn’t want to be noticed. You’re too pampered, sitting in that office, rich boy.”

      Daniel detested being reminded of his father’s wealth, money that was now his even if it was safely locked away in some bank gathering interest, and Shelby knew it. One of the reasons he stayed at Finders was that few people there knew or cared how much he was worth. They saw him as an ordinary guy, one of them. Well, everyone but Sam.

      “Touché. I’m being a snob. I’ll rough it.” He looked at his notes. “Ask Tim to take another look at the pictures of the statue, will you?”

      “Sure, but I should tell you he’s more focused on the theft.”

      “Why?”

      “He believes an art thief would have gone about things with more finesse. He’s got someone checking with the police about it. I’ll let you know.”

      “I’m sorry, Mr. McCullough.” The attendant motioned to the tray and the phone. “We’ll be landing in Lima in fifteen minutes. Please shut down your computer and end your call.”

      “Certainly.” He nodded. “We’re landing soon, Shel. I have to go.”

      “I’ll keep digging. You find Sam.”

      “Count on it.”

      Daniel rubbed his fingers over the golden disk Samantha had sent. By the time he stepped onto Peruvian soil, the hairs on his neck were upright—never a good sign.

      Evelyn had ordered a car to take him to the hotel. In his room, Daniel flopped across the bed to think. СКАЧАТЬ