by Rachel Grant
Lee had the good sense to skip his morning workout. Alone with the bag, she opened a new sore on her foot, but her imaginary Jake and Marco were broken, bleeding messes by the time she finished. After she showered and changed into clothes she’d purchased at a thrift store on Saturday evening, she headed to her office. Within an hour, she had the Thermo-Con EA polished and ready for printing. She e-mailed the document to Rob Anderson, marked for urgent review.
Now what? It was a rare moment when she had downtime before she needed to jump to the next project, and she couldn’t deliver the report until after Rob and Janice approved the draft. She turned her chair and watched Lee, who had arrived a half hour ago. They hadn’t spoken since she’d left the table last night.
He caught her gaze, and, instead of looking contrite, he gave her a heated look worthy of yesterday, pre-argument. His glance raked the length of her with appreciation; then his bright green eyes returned to hers. His eyebrow rose in a suggestive way, and she felt instant and unwelcome desire. Damn him.
“Give it up,” she said.
“Never.”
She was saved from responding by a knock on their open office door. She looked up to see Lily Davenport standing in the doorway. “I’ve got a FedEx for you, Erica,” the buxom blonde chemist said.
Since when did chemists deliver FedEx packages?
The woman’s eyes fixed on Lee, and Erica understood her sudden desire to play receptionist. Lily had called dibs on the hydrologist from Boston, and now she wanted to check out the good-looking archaeological intern. She’d never once stepped foot in the archaeology lab, but now she breezed into the room and dropped the envelope on Lee’s desk. She then sat on the worktable and expertly flaunted her cleavage, miniskirt, and heels, all of which were more appropriate for a Friday night on the town than a Monday morning at the office.
The fact that Lee appeared to enjoy the display irked Erica. She supposed Lily was pretty—if one liked cougars. The meow that accompanied catty comments rang through her mind, and she acknowledged that even though she didn’t want Lee for herself, she didn’t enjoy watching him admire someone else.
“What is it?” she asked Lee, drawing his attention away from Lily’s cleavage.
He ripped off the strip on the cardboard envelope and pulled out the single sheet. “It’s the radiocarbon test result for the bone from the Thermo-Con sump.”
“How old is the bone?”
He studied the page. “It’s unclear.”
“I don’t understand most of the technical data either, but there’s always a line that gives the conventional age and another that gives the calibrated age—that’s where they adjust for carbon fluctuations due to nuclear testing or something like that. What’s the calibrated age?”
“Like I said, it’s unclear.”
She sighed and crossed the room to read over his shoulder. The conventional age was -2 ± 3 BP, but next to calibrated age it said, “Some probability for 19th or 20th century antiquity.”
“You’re right,” she said. “It is unclear.”
He smiled. “Yeah, one thing I learned in all my years of college is how to read. I can recognize numbers too.”
Lily snickered.
“Smart-ass,” Erica said. She pointed to the conventional age. “Nineteen fifty is the baseline year for all radiocarbon dates. Every date before present—which is what BP stands for—is a calculation from AD 1950. So the uncalibrated test indicated the bones date between 1949 and 1955. But when they adjusted for the extra carbon in the atmosphere due to nuclear testing they couldn’t narrow it down beyond a two-hundred-year range.” She glanced at Lily. “Does that sound right to you?”
The chemist shrugged. “Not my field.”
“I need to call the lab.” She nearly tripped over Lily’s legs as she made her way back to her desk. “Thanks for delivering the envelope.” Her voice was polite but dismissive.
“No problem.” She glanced at Lee. “You taking your morning break soon?”
“We’ve got to deal with this,” Erica said, waving the paper and hating herself for jumping in because she didn’t want Lee to take a break with Lily.
Lee’s grin was self-satisfied. To Lily, he said, “She’s the boss.”
“Well, I should go, then.” She stood up and smoothed her skirt in a way that practically waved her butt in Lee’s face, then left.
The room was silent for a minute. Finally Erica said, “Need a cold shower, Romeo?”
“She doesn’t turn me on nearly as much as you do.”
The memory of exactly how much she’d turned him on caused her breath to catch.
“I love it when you make that sound. Now I need a cold shower.”
She shook her head and reached for her phone, smiling slightly. He did have a certain relentless charm.
Ten minutes later, she hung up the phone, exhilarated. “We’ve got a problem. We can’t say with certainty whether the bones are prehistoric or not, and if they aren’t prehistoric, then this would require a criminal investigation.”
“You think if the bone really dates from 1952, then it could be the remains of a body that was hidden there,” Lee said.
“Most likely the bones are prehistoric, but we can’t ignore the fact that the house was built in 1952 and the uncalibrated test came up with that year, plus or minus three. I don’t believe the army would have built the house over a recent grave, but after I deliver the report, I’m going to check the tribal archives and see what information they have on how the land was used by the military, on the off chance there was a cemetery and they missed moving a grave.”
“If that was the case, shouldn’t the bones have been inside a coffin?”
“Good point. Another reason to think the date is wrong and the bones are prehistoric.”
“I’m going with you.”
“You’ve got work to do for JT.”
“Your job will go faster if I help you search the archives.”
Now he was willing to do some work? She didn’t want to bring him along. She intended to finagle a meeting with Riversong over this issue and wanted to talk to the chairman alone.
But then again, she might need him. Lee could beat Riversong at pool with a broken cue and one arm behind his back, and she wanted the chairman to authorize another DNA test for these bones. And, more than anything, she wanted Sam’s DNA for the comparative sample.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
LEE’S CODE-BREAKING PROGRAM flashed on his laptop screen. He’d finally unlocked the last of the Iraq project files. He clicked on the icon and the list of files loaded. Several files had an unfamiliar extension. A quick search told him the files were blueprint documents. He opened the readable text files and learned the blueprints were for something called SARAC.
He felt a jolt of recognition and went to his databank of captured messages to search for a text he’d read last Friday. He found it immediately. A text message, sent from a prepaid cell phone from inside the building, to a prepaid cell phone located in Menanichoch, Maryland when the text was received. The text was short and sweet: Sara C will be back a week from today. He’d flagged the message, but it could have been innocent, referring to Sarah Castleberry, a Talon & Drake structural engineer, and Talon & Drake had several tribal projects; any number of employees could be on the reservation or communicating with a client.
Sara C had to be SARAC, and whatever the equipment was, it was being shipped back. From Iraq. Probably with one of the many drawdown shipments. Matt Weber’s e-mail to JT had said, Broken Talon & Drake equipment is being shipped back to the US via military transport. Lee was certain whatever was being smuggled would be hidden inside SARAC.
But even more important, he’d identified the cell phones of two conspirators.
Lee was anxious to tell JT, but knew he was meeting with Joe. The campaign was only days away from becoming official.
An hour later, the Thermo-Con EA was approved, printed, and bound. Lee hadn’t gotten hold of JT, but as he climbe
d into Erica’s car, he was still flying high from his discovery. If all went well, he’d be done with this spying job by Friday. He looked over at Erica as she fastened her seat belt. When she was cleared, he could take her out to a fancy dinner, convince her to forgive his lies, then take her home and prove he was neither lazy nor a kid.
First they delivered the EA to the environmental compliance officer, a sixty-something tribal member with a warm smile. She was thrilled with the information Erica had gathered on Thermo-Con. The odd radiocarbon date was a concern, and she immediately led them to the room where all the land records, both military and tribal, were stored.
They spent an hour poring over old maps and ethnographic data and found nothing to indicate the property had ever been a cemetery or prehistoric burial ground. “We need to talk to Sam Riversong about this,” Erica said.
Lee’s mood took a nosedive. The radiocarbon date didn’t warrant a meeting with the tribal chairman. At best, she should follow up with the environmental compliance officer. But Erica was pushing this to the top, and Lee wanted to know why. He knew in his gut she wasn’t acting out of concern for the bones.
Once again they found themselves waiting in the game room in the shiny new tribal office building. Lee went straight to the pool table and racked the balls. He would distract Erica with the game and try to find out what her agenda was.
The problem was, she distracted him. Every time she leaned over the table, he felt a stirring in his gut that told him this was no ordinary attraction. There was something about her that touched him in a primal way. He’d known he wanted her from the first, but what he wanted scared him: he wanted to break through the shields she’d constructed around herself. He’d only seen glimpses of her relaxed and happy. He wanted more.
One thing was certain, she didn’t like to lose, and she focused on the game with fierce concentration, determined not to make any mistakes.
She leaned down for another shot, and he wished she were wearing the tight V-neck T-shirt she’d worn all weekend. She’d gone shopping Saturday evening and managed to find a cheap but respectable outfit, but the clothes were too large and did nothing for her figure.
He decided to rattle her. Leaning against her back, he slid his arms along hers and repositioned her cue. “You’re too far to the left for that bank shot.”
She pulled back the stick in a fast, hard jab, ramming the butt end into his ribs. The cue ball hit the rail, where it bounced wildly and missed the striped ball that had been her target.
Lee rubbed his side. “Damn. You’re as good with a cue as you are at the bag.”
“Consider yourself lucky—I didn’t want to hurt you…too much.”
He backed her into the table and dropped his voice so it wouldn’t go farther than her ears. “Sounds kinky. We should come up with a safe word.” His lips hovered above hers.
She pushed at his chest and leaned away from him. “Please. You’ve got trouble written all over you. You’re too young, immature, and spoiled. And lack of finesse leads to boring sex.”
He choked on her assertion. “What do you mean, lack of finesse?”
“College boys are all grope and hurry with no understanding of foreplay.”
“Sounds like a challenge to me.”
“It wasn’t,” she protested, but he could see from the blue in her eyes she was turned on. Hell, yeah, it was a challenge.
She pushed on his chest again.
“I’m determined to redeem your opinion of me. Come to my room tonight.” Somewhere in this game, he’d lost sight of what was real and what was acting, but his plea did sound like a college boy, so at least he was in character.
“Not a chance. Now are you going to take your shot?”
“If you think I handle this stick well, wait until you see—”
She cut him off. “Shoot, before I use my stick to whack your balls.”
“Ouch, I hope we’re still talking about the game. Let’s see, you missed your shot entirely, so it’s ball-in-hand for me.”
“And that’s no different from how it will be tonight, tomorrow night, and the rest of your nights until you go back to school—your stick, your balls, your hand. Alone.”
He laughed. He thought about mentioning Lily the chemist being willing to keep him company, but he was done baiting her. He picked up the cue ball and used it to line up an easy shot at the corner pocket. “Why do you want to talk to Riversong?”
She looked like she was about to speak, then stopped, and he knew he’d startled her with the change of subject after the playful conversation.
He took his shot, sinking the last of his solids. He knew it wouldn’t be possible to get her to suddenly confess her agenda, but he thought she wanted to tell him. She wanted to trust him.
He’d never used sex for anything other than sharing pleasure with someone he wanted to be with, but having sex with Erica as a shortcut to earning her trust was entirely possible. He needed to know why Novak was sniffing around the Bethesda office. Now.
He sank the eight ball. “Was it worth sacrificing your shot to jab me with your cue?”
“Yes. Retaliation is better than winning.”
Riversong walked into the room. “No, Ms. Kesling. Nothing is better than winning.” Another man followed the chairman into the room. Riversong turned to the man, whom Lee had seen once before. “Don’t you agree, Jake?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
LEE WATCHED THROUGH NARROWED eyes as Novak crossed the room and stopped in front of Erica. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Erica, my dear, it’s good to see you again.”
Her skin was pale, and she looked frightened for a moment before her eyes turned the coldest shade of gray he’d ever seen. She jerked her hand away, straightened her spine, and turned to the chairman. “Mr. Riversong, I see you’re busy. We can meet later.” She took a step toward the door.
Novak grabbed her arm, halting her. “Erica, when will you learn running doesn’t work?”
Adrenaline pulsed through Lee. He wanted to rip the man’s hand off her.
She yanked her arm out of Novak’s grasp. “I’m not running, Jake. I just don’t think it’s proper to negotiate with a client in front of an uninvolved third party.”
“Oh, but darling, I am involved. I’m teaming with Talon & Drake. You and I are going to work together.” Novak looked at her possessively.
Jealousy stabbed Lee. He fought the urge to put Novak in his place. With fists. He settled for the crappy-intern equivalent. “Won’t that be fun?” He draped an arm around her shoulders. “The three of us, working together.”
“You’re the intern, right? Make yourself useful and get us coffee. Sam, Erica, and I need to talk.”
“Jake, shut up or leave,” Riversong said. “You aren’t in charge of this meeting.” He glanced at his watch. “I don’t have much time. I understand there’s a problem with the Thermo-Con house.” He looked expectantly at Erica.
She wriggled her shoulders, and Lee dropped his arm. Novak had rattled her—again. She gathered her composure. “The bones we found are human,” she said. “Today I got the radiocarbon date, which was unclear. It’s possible the bones are a hundred and fifty years old, but there is an equal likelihood they were buried there in 1952.”
Riversong raised a brow. “The year the house was built?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting.” Riversong paused. “If the radiocarbon date indicates the bones could be a hundred and fifty years old, then this is a tribal matter, and your input is no longer necessary.”
“But your BRAC agreement with the government—”
“Is none of your concern,” Riversong said with sharp finality. The man was done playing with Erica, and from the look on her face, she knew it.
She closed her eyes briefly, and Lee had a sense she was gathering her courage. “Whenever human remains are discovered, I am required to notify the Maryland State Police, the State’s Attorney’s office, and the Maryland Historical Trust
, which I have yet to do.”
Riversong’s mouth flattened to a thin line, but Lee had read enough to know Erica spoke the truth.
“Given the lack of clarity on the age of the remains,” she continued, her voice now stronger, “it is possible the State Police or the State’s Attorney will want to pursue a criminal investigation, which will halt all work on the Thermo-Con house indefinitely. But there is a test that would indicate whether or not the 1952 date was erroneous. If that’s the case, then it’s highly likely all parties would agree that this is a tribal matter, and you can deal with the remains as you see fit.”
“What test do you propose?”
“A comparative DNA test. We can compare the bones to Menanichoch DNA. Even if the bones are a thousand years old, there’ll be a match in the DNA, telling us the bones are from a tribal member who was buried long before the army claimed the land and built Fort Belmont.”
Riversong physically recoiled. “No.”
“I know many tribal members are worried about DNA testing because genetic mapping undermines the foundation of your religion. I promise, this DNA test wouldn’t be used for that.”
“My people have been hearing promises for centuries. We’ve been betrayed every time.”
Tension arced between Erica and the tribal chairman, while Jake Novak leaned against the pool table and stared at her with a predatory grin. The man was enjoying this exchange.
“I’ll have the lab send the results directly to me. Our contract will forbid the entry of the DNA into a database. They won’t even know what ethnic group is being mapped.”
Lee decided his role of ignorant intern was useful. “Why is this a problem, when you authorized testing of the bones last week?”
Riversong poured himself a glass of water and took a long drink before answering. “The first test determined the bone was human. Genetic sequencing wasn’t necessary. This test requires genetic sequencing—meaning Menanichoch DNA would be isolated and defined.”
