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.”
Payne leaned forward. “What does that have to do with Byrd? What was his project?”
“Richard was fascinated with Ancient Greece. He spent half of his life looking for ancient relics. It was his obsession.”
“Was he successful?”
She shook her head. “He spent millions to find thousands.”
Jones said, “I’m pretty good with math, and, well, that sucks.”
Payne rolled his eyes. “Ignore him. He’s tired. It’s been a long trip.”
“You know,” she admitted, “when we spoke, I never asked where you were.”
“Actually, you didn’t ask much.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Sorry about that. I had just seen Richard . . . I think I was in shock.”
“There’s no need to apologize. You weren’t that bad. And you seem much better now.”
She shrugged. “I think it’s a different kind of shock. I’m no longer blubbering like I was on the phone, but I can’t believe this is happening. Stuff like this doesn’t happen to me.”
“Really?” Jones said through a yawn. “Happens to us all the time.”
Payne shook his head at the comment. “D.J., it’s late. Why don’t you go to bed?”
“I can’t,” he whined. “You’re on my bed. Unless you’re giving me the guest room.”
“Not a chance. I’m too tall for the couch.”
“Exactly. So get off my bed.”
Allison looked perplexed. “Wait a minute. You’re staying here?”
Payne nodded. “That’s why I told you to get a suite. So we can stand guard. You’ll be safer this way. I promise.”
“I don’t know,” she stammered. “I wasn’t really expecting . . .”
“Listen, if you’re not comfortable with us, we can get a room down the hall. But I assure you, we didn’t fly in from Florida to hurt you.”
“Wait. You were in Florida when I called?”