Payne answered, “I’m Jonathon. This is D.J. We’re here to help.”
“Just a minute,” she lied. “I’m getting my gun.”
“Great,” Jones mumbled. “I feel safer already.”
Allison hurried away from the door and grabbed her cell phone, the one that Byrd had given to her. It was programmed with only one number. She hustled back to the peephole before she placed the call. A few seconds passed before she got the response she was hoping for. Payne looked at his phone and smiled. Then he held it up to the door. It was vibrating in his hand.
“Yes,” he said, “it’s really me.”
“Just checking,” she said through the door. “Give me a minute. I have to get dressed.”
“Take your time.”
Jones leaned forward and whispered to Payne. “She’s smart, naked, and carrying a gun? She’s my kind of girl.”
“Keep it in your pants, soldier.”
“Good point. She’s scared enough already.”
A few minutes later, they saw the door rattle as she pulled the chair away. Then they heard the locks, one after the other. Finally, she opened the door and peeked through the crack.
She was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. No shoes. No makeup. Yet she was stunning. Her hair was blond and hung to her shoulders. Her eyes were the color of sapphires. Payne offered his hand in greeting, and she grasped it firmly. Her skin was soft, but her grip was strong.
“I’m Jon.”
“Allison,” she said as she opened the door wider.
“Nice to meet you. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. But I’m glad you’re finally here.”
He smiled. The feeling was mutual. “May I come in?”
“Of course,” she said, still holding the door.
“Thanks.” Payne brushed past her as he eased into the suite. He glanced around, making sure that she was alone. “That’s D.J. He’s harmless.”
She smiled and shook his hand. “Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for the invitation.”
She laughed nervously. “Aren’t we a polite bunch?”
Payne gave Jones a nod, letting him know the place was clear. Only then did he come inside and lock the door. It was a simple precaution, but one that could save their lives.
“Nice suite
“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 resume.”
She blushed slightly. “Not your resume, 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.”
