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He’d caught Magda’s eye, and from the gleam he saw there, he knew that the woman in white was the woman he’d sought, and he knew, too, that she would be back.
“You win, Magda,” he’d said as she passed by on her way to the kitchen. “What time is di
“The corner table in the courtyard at seven-thirty. Perhaps you will have company.” She poked him in the ribs. “Then again, perhaps not.”
She was already there at the table when he arrived, sipping water with a slice of lemon, looking as fresh as a flower after a gentle rain. She’d looked up at him with eyes the color of cornflowers when he approached the table, and all he could think of to say was a most unoriginal “Hi.”
She’d extended a hand to him, and he’d smiled as he took it. Her appearance was very feminine and soft, despite her casual attire-khakis and a cotton shirt-and total lack of makeup. Her hands were hands that worked in the field, tough and calloused, the nails short and devoid of polish and she was deeply ta
Later, he’d been hard-pressed to recall much of the conversation, except that they’d talked about their families. He’d been surprised to learn that she, too, had lost a brother, but other than that, for the most part, he only remembered her eyes and the sound of her laughter.
Fifteen minutes into di
He’d given her his card before he left, and asked her to call him when she was back in the States, or when she was pla
“Call that number and leave a message, it will get to me,” he’d told her. “Anytime. Day or night. I’ll get the message.”
It had been with great reluctance that he’d left her there at the table, alone, on a beautiful Moroccan night.
He’d really expected that in order to see her again, he’d have to travel back to the Villa. But wonder of wonders, here she was, almost in his own backyard, just a little over an hour away. That she’d kept the card all these months, that she’d called him when she needed help, satisfied him deeply.
She remembered me, and she called.
He couldn’t remember the last time anything had pleased him more.
5
D aria stood by the window in Louise’s office and watched the sleek sports car park in the first visitor’s spot. Even before the door opened, she knew who was behind the wheel. The car looked like the man-sleek and dark, sexy and dangerous.
He stepped out and looked around the campus as if to get his bearings, one arm leaning on the top of the car. He wore dark glasses and a shirt open at the neck, well-fitting jeans, and had a light-colored sport jacket slung over one shoulder.
He looks like a government agent, she thought as she stared shamelessly. Or a spy.
“…wondering if you’d had a chance to look through those journals of your great-grandfather’s,” Louise was saying.
“Oh. Yes.” Daria reluctantly turned from the window. “I did. Almost all of them, actually. It was quite fascinating, almost like being there.”
“That’s what I thought, too, when I read them. I was thinking if once we get the exhibit open, perhaps your family might give approval to have them published. In the hands of the right publisher, we might have a bestselling series.”
“Well, the reading is certainly interesting enough, I agree. I don’t know who you would have to get permission from, though.” Daria frowned. “I don’t know who actually owns them. It may be the university. If they were part of his estate, and the estate was left to the school…”
“We can have that looked into. I’d still want the blessing of the McGowan family even if Howe does legally own them. Maybe we could include a forward from you,” she said thoughtfully. “The bridge between one generation and another. Perhaps your father would want to contribute, as well.”
Louise was about to say something else when there was a knock on the half-opened door.
“Dr. Burnette?” The tall man filled the doorway. “I’m Co
Louise walked to the door to greet him.
“Yes, I’m Louise Burnette. Please, come in, Agent Shields. We’ve been waiting for you.”
“Good to meet you.” Co
“And you know Dr. McGowan,” Louise stepped aside as Daria made her way across the office.
“Daria, it’s good to see you again.” Co
“Thank you for coming right away, Co
“When I said anytime,” he lowered his voice, “I meant anytime.”
“I…we appreciate it.” A flush crept up from beneath Daria’s collar to her cheeks.
“Let’s have a seat, shall we?” Louise gestured toward the chairs near the window.
Co
He is very well-ma
“Daria explained your situation on the phone,” Co
“It isn’t so unusual, Co
“And here at Howe,” Louise added, “in the last fifty years, dinosaurs became more popular than ancient cultures. As I mentioned to Daria, the last curator’s interests lay in the area of American natural history. Professor McGowan’s finds, along with those of another archaeologist who led an expedition about the same time, were locked away and pretty much forgotten as other items were acquired and put on display.”
“What reminded you?” Co
“For the past few years, the financial picture here at the university has become increasingly grim. We have been considering different means of raising cash, and recently someone suggested selling off what few liquid assets we have.” She smiled wryly. “It didn’t take long to make a list of those. We have some land we could sell, but there isn’t enough to make a dent in the budget. And this isn’t really a high-rent district out here, as you may have noticed.”
“The town looks all right,” Co
“The town is all right, and that’s about it. We’re surrounded by farms, many of them Amish, and the price per acre is pretty low.”
“So what you’re saying is that selling off land wasn’t the solution,” he said.
“Right.” Louise nodded. “And then someone started talking about selling off artwork-the university does have quite a nice collection of American primitive paintings-so we went around to the various buildings to take stock of what we had. On my way back home that night, I came past the museum, and it jogged my memory.”