the paper near the spine of the book-“it was recent.”
“And the second thing?”
“The pages are water-stained, yet the leather cover is not.”
Jimmy smiled as he nodded his head. He disappeared and returned with a wet washcloth. He took the book from her hand, laid it down, opened it to the middle, and rubbed the page. At once the foreign language of the prayer vanished, revealing a handwritten text beneath.
“I think it’s a diary,” Jimmy said softly.
“What’s it say?”
“I don’t know, but it’s a hell of a place to keep secrets.”
Jimmy picked up the quill from the table. He opened the black ink bottle, dipped the quill in, and wrote on a piece of paper. They both watched as the lettering dried and disappeared.
Mia took the cloth, and with a single wipe of the page, the word reappeared.
“It’s like a kid’s magic trick.”
“Yeah, we’ve gotten so complex with our encryptions and passwords that we’ve forgotten the best place to hide is usually in plain sight.”
“Makes you wonder what was on the torn-out page.”
They both paused a moment, digesting the room.
“There’s a whole team on their way,” Jimmy finally said. “I need you to take this stuff before they get here. Keep it to yourself. The things hidden on the pages of those two books, I believe, are far more explosive than anyone realizes. I’ve reached out for a translator. I’m flying him in, but he won’t be here until the weekend. I need you to hide this away till then. I’ll get this case classified.”
“You’re sounding paranoid,” Mia said.
“Have you ever known me to be paranoid?”
Mia shook her head; Jimmy was anything but. He was probably the most logical, methodical man she had ever worked with.
“I need to show you something,” Jimmy said.
He took the washcloth from her and picked up the second book. Turning to the last page, he quickly wiped it to reveal a list of names, written in English, all in sharp contrast to the surrounding foreign characters. The list was short, five names. Fear ran through Mia as she realized that she knew them.
“I want you to take all of this now.” Jimmy picked up a two-foot-by-ten-inch evidence case and swept all of the priest’s personal effects into it. “You hide it away, far from any FBI, until we can figure out what to do.”
Mia nodded in agreement. If she had her way, she’d bury the box for all eternity.
“How’s Jack doing?” Jimmy asked, the question seeming odd in the middle of a murder scene.
“He’s good, thanks.”
“When did you see him last?”
“What?” Mia asked, confusion filling her voice. “Late last night. He got home late. I left before he was even awake.”
“Did you talk to him today?”
“What’s going on, Jimmy? You’re scaring me.”
“Just answer me. When did you speak to him last?”
“Dammit, Jimmy. Ten minutes ago.”
“And he’s OK?”
Mia glared at him, pissed.
“Is he working any crazy cases lately?”
Mia glared at Jimmy.
“Listen, Mia, I found something. It’s real disturbing. And as much as I’d like to spare you the shock, you need to see it.”
“Drop the preface, and show me. I hate when people do that. Everyone has to build the drama.”
Jimmy pulled out two eight-by-eleven sheets of paper, each with an intricate, lifelike drawing on it, and handed them to her.
As shocked as Mia was by the body on the bed and the names in the book, these images shook her to her core, lifelike in every respect. Her knees nearly buckled as she realized who they were of and what they represented. Without a further glance, she stuffed them into the black metal case and slammed the lid closed.
A S J ACK SAT in the deli listening intently to Jimmy’s every word, he leaned forward. “What were the images of?”
“I can’t say,” Jimmy said.
“Why?”
“Because I promised your wife I would tell no one of their existence, especially you.”
“Bullshit!” Jack’s arm shot out and grabbed Jimmy by the shirt. “You tell me, and you tell me now, what were they of, and why did they scare her so much?”
“Jack, they are too difficult to explain. When you get the box, you will see them for yourself, and then you will understand why I can’t speak of them and why they frightened Mia.”
Jack glared at Jimmy, finally releasing him. He glanced over at the two men behind the counter and saw them staring back. “Tell me the names in the book.”
Jimmy shook his head. “I promised Mia for a reason. I know she is your wife, but whether you know the names will not affect your getting that metal case. Jack,” Jimmy said as he stood up, “you have to get the box. I know the Tombs is under lockdown, but the people who tried to kill you are going to try to get there first. I don’t know how many are coming, but if they get that case, Mia is dead.”
Jimmy turned to leave but suddenly turned back.
“One other thing,” he said. “The body of the priest… it was stolen from the morgue last night.”
As baffled as Jack was by Jimmy’s last comment, he brushed it off. He couldn’t imagine who would steal a body. Instead, his mind focused on Mia. He couldn’t fathom how he would get the case, how he would possibly penetrate the depths of the Tombs. And if he couldn’t…
Jack buried his head in his hands, drawing them down his face as if the action would somehow wash away his nightmare.
He finally looked up… Jimmy was gone.
CHAPTER 22
Frank parked several streets away from Jack’s house, on Sniffen Road, only three hundred yards through the woods to Jack’s backyard. He had dropped Joy off at her office to see if she could uncover anything in Jack’s files that could lead them to Mia and picked his friend up on the corner of Broadway and John Street. Jack made no mention of his conversation with Jimmy Griffin, as Frank was already all over him for being spotted and racing off into the subway tunnels of Manhattan to get nearly killed. And besides, there was something about Jimmy that Jack couldn’t put his finger on. While he gave him some insight into Mia’s fear of the case and clues to what it held, he offered no further information that would really help him find her.
Against Frank’s opinion, they headed back to Byram Hills, circling Jack’s house to make sure there was no one there before parking on the other side of the neighborhood. Jack had a suspicion, which he wouldn’t voice until he could get his hands on a file in his study. As pissed as Frank was, it was the only direction they could take at the moment, and everything aside, he trusted Jack’s instinct.
They ran at a fast clip along the old logging paths that had become the haven of hikers and kids on minibikes. There were no houses along the path, and with the summertime tree canopy, the chance of being seen was minimal. They came to Jack’s backyard and remained in the heavy shadow of the woods as they looked around, listening, seeing if there was any other presence beyond their own.
They both feared the FBI or worse descending on the house at any moment, if they weren’t already
