The Jefferson Key

MALONE AWOKE AND CHECKED THE BEDSIDE CLOCK.
6:50 AM.

Cassiopeia lay beside him, still sleeping. They’d been out for a little over two hours. He wore his undershirt and boxers. She was naked, her preferred bedclothes, which he liked. He studied her contoured curves. Not a blemish disturbed the swarthy patina. She was a beautiful woman.

If only they had more time.

He swung his legs to the floor.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He’d learned she was a light sleeper.

“We have to get going.”

“What happened last night?”

He’d promised her an explanation when they awoke. So he told her, then said, “I deleted the cipher solution off the Garver server but that’s only going to stop the people who went there for a few hours. They probably already know I emailed a copy to myself.”

He waited for it to hit her.

“Which means they know you’re here,” she said.

“I used another name to register and paid in cash. It cost me a hundred-dollar tip, but the clerk didn’t ask for any identification. I told him I didn’t want my wife to know where I was.” He reached for his clothes. “I knew when I accessed that email last night, they’d trace it here. But I want to know who they are. It’s possible they could lead us to Stephanie.”

“You think they’ll make a play?”

“Oh, yeah. My guess is they’re downstairs waiting. The question is, how much attention do they want to draw? We do have one advantage. An unknown factor to them.”

And he saw she understood.

“That’s right. You.”