Solomon's Gold

CHAPTER 23

After hearing what Nick had to say about Miriam, Elizabeth decided to send Stephanie to New York. She thought Nick was right. If Homeland Security or any of the other official agencies got involved, it wouldn't be long before someone leaked the story. There was plenty of time to inform them, when it couldn't be avoided. Technically, she should call in the FBI, since Miriam had turned out to be a terrorist living in New York. But the FBI would want Elizabeth to stay out of their way.

Miriam's cronies had tried to kill her team. Elizabeth took things like that personally.

She touched a button on her intercom.

"Steph, could you come up for a moment?"

"Be right there."

A minute later Stephanie came into Elizabeth's office and sat down across from her.

"What's up?"

Elizabeth told her what had happened in Israel.

"Just once, I'd like to see them go somewhere and come back without somebody trying to kill them," Steph said.

"This one was supposed to be easy," Elizabeth said. "I suppose I should've known better. Anyway, I want you to go to New York."

"Okay. Why?"

"I want you to check out Miriam's apartment. I don't think you'll find anything of interest where she worked, at the Museum. If I were her, I wouldn't have left anything incriminating around my workplace. But there may be something in her apartment. At the moment we don't know anything, except that she was part of an organized team."

"Do you think it was an operation by one of the governments over there? Iran, Saudi Arabia? One of those?"

"I don't know. It could be one of the terrorist groups, like Isis or Hezbollah. It could be a group of criminals looking for treasure. Until we find out more, we're guessing. I hate guessing. I want facts, something solid to go on."

"You have her address?"

"Her apartment is about ten blocks away from where she worked."

"Getting in won't be a problem. I'll use an FBI ID if I need to."

"Try to get in without being seen, but do whatever you have to."

"When do you want me to go?"

"Right away," Elizabeth said. "If she was working for a government, they'll send someone to sanitize her apartment as soon as they realize she's dead. The sooner you get in, the better."

"There are trains running all the time," Steph said. "I can be up there in a few hours."

"Good," Elizabeth said.

After Stephanie left, Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She was feeling tired, tired in mind and body. Sometimes she wished she could walk out the door and be on a warm, tropical beach somewhere, listening to the rhythm of the waves and feeling soft sand under her feet.

President Rice had hired her two years into his first term, six years ago. Before that, she'd worked in the Justice Department. She'd been assigned to the 9/11 task force, but that ended when she refused to stop pointing out glaring problems with the conclusions put forward in the report. She'd been branded as someone who wasn't a "team player," the kiss of death in an organization mired in bureaucracy and CYA politics. They'd shunted her over to a dead-end RICO investigation. That was where Rice had found her, just as she'd reached the point where she was ready to resign.

She needed a vacation, a long one, but it wasn't going to happen. Stephanie was perfectly capable of running things without her, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that she didn't know what to do with herself if she wasn't behind her desk. The vision of a tropical beach was enticing, but Elizabeth knew she'd be bored to death if she turned it into reality.

It would be different if she had someone to share it with. She wondered if she could persuade Clarence to go off with her for a weekend in the Caribbean. St. Lucia, perhaps, or Martinique. The Virgin Islands. Anywhere warm with beaches and palm trees.

Clarence Hood had turned out to be a pleasant surprise. She'd never thought an intimate relationship would bloom at this stage of her life, yet here she was, thinking how pleasant it would be to spend a few days with him in a bungalow on some secluded beach.

She took a deep breath and punched the speed dial on her phone that gave her the direct line to Hood's desk at Langley. He picked up on the second ring.

"Hood."

"Clarence, it's Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth. I was just thinking about you."

Hood had been born in Virginia. His voice had a soft hint of the south in it.

"I have an idea," Elizabeth said. "Do you think you can get away for a few days?"

"It might be possible. What's your idea?"

"How does the Caribbean sound? A few days at a nice hotel, tall drinks, the ocean and the beach right outside?"

"It sounds wonderful," Hood said.

"We could take a long weekend."

"I know a spot on St. John," Hood said. "It's private and right on a beautiful beach. Not the kind of place the tourists find."

"That sounds perfect," Elizabeth said. "When can you get away?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Hood said. "The truth is that neither one of us will ever find it easy to get away."

"How about after this current mission I'm running is finished?" Elizabeth said. "We can charter a plane, keep it on standby. We'll have our phones. If we have to, we can be back in a few hours."

She waited, trying not to think about the implications of what it would mean if he said yes. Or if he didn't.

"I think it's a great idea," Hood said. "Let me make a couple of calls. I'll check on that spot I told you about and line up a plane."

"We could leave on a Friday morning," Elizabeth said, "and come back Monday or Tuesday. That would give us three or four nights and enough time to relax."

"Relax? What's that?"

Elizabeth laughed. "That's why we need to go. I've forgotten what the word means."

"I can make that work," Hood said. "I'll make the arrangements."

"I think I still have a bathing suit somewhere," Elizabeth said.

"I have to go," Hood said. "I'll call you when everything's set."

After she'd hung up, Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, amazed that she'd called him. Amazed that she was going to go do something just for fun. She couldn't remember the last time she'd taken time off for herself, to do something that wasn't directly related to her work.

As to what that meant for her relationship with Clarence, a weekend in the islands would be a pleasant way to find out if there was more to it than a casual romance.