Page 55 of Afraid to Hope

“I have no concerns. They’ve all been cleared and I’ve worked with them in different capacities.”

Finished eating, Natasha wiped her mouth daintily and said quietly, “I knew my grandfather all my life.”

“Meaning what?” Emmet asked.

She tapped her fingers on the desk and returned the director’s hard stare. “Meaning, at this time, my grandfather appears not to be who I thought he was. It looks as though my grandfather was involved in an organization that would grow to be a vast global network that not only loots and sells antiquities and culture but grows increasingly violent. I don’t understand. It makes no sense. I can’t reconcile it with the man I knew.” Her voice dropped and cracked as she shook her head. “Pépé instilled a reverence for cultures and their histories in me. As far back as I can remember. Today Bane and I discovered documents that imply he was a party to raping it. Jesus.” She grimaced, her laugh derisive. “Unbelievable, particularly when you consider what my education and training is. I will do all I can to uncover anything that shows otherwise, to clear his name.”

“I am very sorry. Disappointment cuts deep, especially when its cause is someone we regard deeply or love. If his involvement is confirmed, your grandfather’s choices do not reflect on you. While I admire your passion to prove his innocence, your primary objective is recovering the Ouarzazate Codex and theHomo sapiensremains.”

“I realize that,” Natasha said, glancing at Bane when he squeezed her shoulder in support.

“Sadly, what you have presented me this afternoon is stunning, and a warning to all of us, to be hypervigilant of people we interact with”—Emmet inclined his head at Natasha, his expression contrite—“ including those we have known for a long time, perhaps our entire lives.”

Natasha stood and held out her hand to Emmet. “Bane and I will keep you informed. We’ll search for the answers and be on our way. Likely tomorrow morning.”

Matilda knocked discreetly. “Here you are.” She handed all of them copies and the originals to Natasha. She gave Bane a separate large white paper bag. “Be careful,” she added, looking deeply into Natasha’s eyes, then Bane’s, concern etching her features.

After she left, Emmet inhaled deeply, then nodded at the agreement, ledger, and the journal Natasha slid back into the Berber bag. “Keep those in a secure place.”

“Yes.”

“Watch your backs, and each other’s. Since the attack on Rafiq, I’ve been having a nagging sense of unease. You are not to deviate from the plans unless something else comes up, and then I need to know immediately. You are traveling armed?”

“Of course,” Bane responded as Natasha said yes. He added, “We’ll check everything over tonight.”

“First aid?”

Bane held up the bag. “Tilly restocked everything for me and then some. I think we’re good,” he confirmed, answering Natasha’s big-eyed expression with a wink and cocky smile. “Special ops, sweetheart.”

Natasha, Bane, and Simon pulled the gardening books and cookbooks from their shelves and piled them on top of the kitchen table.

“Let’s divide and conquer.” Natasha handed each of the men a small pad of paper and a pen. “Write down the book title and what you find on the corresponding pages 3, 17, 173, and 317. I’m going to put on some water for tea, then join you.”

Bane placed a small stack of books on the table. “Four gardening books. Does that seem about right, Nat?”

“Yes,” she said, setting out glasses on the counter and adding the green tea to the teapot, waiting for the water to come to a boil on the stove.

“There are a lot of cookbooks,” Simon said, counting them silently. “Fourteen. Who has fourteen cookbooks?”

“Fifteen. You missed one, a book on sauces,” Bane responded as he extracted a smaller, thin book from his stack and gave it to Simon. “Hell, my mom has more than this, probably triple.”

“Are you joking?” Simon asked.

“My mom cooks and bakes like she’s feeding an army all the time. She’s got baking books, seasonal books, Asian, Spanish, Junior League cookbooks from all over the US. She collects them, even though she says otherwise. Oh, and grill—”

Natasha cleared her throat, and Bane whipped his head around. Natasha stood there with arms crossed under her delicious breasts, brows raised and eyes full of laughter, trying not smile.

“Um. Hey.” His eyes drifted to her breasts pushing up against her tee. “You’re looking mighty tasty.”

Simon stopped what he was doing and observed the interaction between Natasha and Bane. A loud knock from the front door carried back to the kitchen.

Natasha uncrossed her arms and kept her voice neutral. “Simon, get back to it. And you, chatty man. Focus. We are on a treasure hunt.” With that, she glided out of the kitchen, screwdrivers in hand.

Simon spoke softly but firmly. “Bane?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I offer some advice?”

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