Chapter Sixteen
The first few miles of their trip to the airport had Quinn white-knuckling it as James navigated the snow-covered twists and turns of the road. He, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed and drove as though they were cruising through the mountains to take in the scenery on a lazy Sunday afternoon. He reminded her he’d received extensive training at the Farm for driving in all sorts of conditions and circumstances, including snow and ice. Still, she didn’t lessen her death grip on the door handle until the road was completely devoid of frozen precipitation.
Once they descended the mountains and returned to civilization, they both admitted they were starving. A few crackers and some pancakes were all they’d eaten since dinner in Santa Monica the night before. It was a cause for celebration when Quinn located the nearest In-N-Out on her phone and directed James to it. They stopped only long enough to get their food and for him to wolf his Double-Double down in two minutes flat.
Soon, they were rocketing west on the freeway again. Quinn washed down the last bite of her Double-Double with a sip of root beer and tossed the wadded-up wrapper in the bag at her feet. “Are you sure we can’t stop by my apartment so I can pick up some clothes and check on Rasputin?”
“I’m sorry, but we can’t. Rick thinks we’re already gone and if he sees you, it blows up our time line for last night.” James snagged a couple of fries and popped them in his mouth. “Trust me. The agency will make sure you have everything you need.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. Some wonk gets the order to ‘go buy a librarian some clothes for London’ and I end up with a suitcase full of wool skirts, tweed jackets, and cardigan sweaters.” Just the thought of it made her shudder. “Although on the plus side, if the queen calls, I’ll be all set to go up to Sandringham Castle for Christmas.”
“That’s the spirit.” He shot her a quick glance. “And give those wonks a chance. They might surprise you.”
“Now I’m really worried.” She decided if the clothes were completely intolerable, she could pick up a few things in London.
“Speaking of librarians, we need to let Virginia know you won’t be in the library at all this week.”
Quinn expelled a loud groan and dropped her head back against the seat’s headrest. “She’s gonna flip.”
“Do you want to call her or should I?”
“She’ll take it better if it comes from you.” She peered at him side-eyed and added in a husky tone, “She’s putty in your hands, you know.”
Quinn laughed when his face twisted like he’d just licked the inside of a Dumpster. “I just threw up in my mouth a little.”
This, of course, only made her laugh harder. When she got herself under control, she asked, “Is there a chance you can pony up another donation for the Friends of the Library? Money seems to soothe her savage breast.”
“Already on it.”
“Then I guess I should make that call.” She dusted the salt from her fingers, took out her phone, and called Virginia’s direct work line. Once her boss’s outgoing message was playing, she put her phone on speaker.
After the beep James said, “Good Sunday afternoon, Virginia. James Lockwood here.” It was a little jarring to hear him switch back to his British accent, though it never ceased to charm the socks off her. “I wanted to inform you that Ms. Ellington and I will not be in the library at all this week. Some information regarding one of the items we’re researching requires us to travel out of town. I understand this is a huge inconvenience for you since Quinn is such an integral part of your team.” He winked at her, eliciting a monster eye roll. “To compensate you for her time away, I’ve arranged for five thousand dollars to be delivered to you tomorrow as a donation to the Friends of the Library fund.”
Quinn’s entire body jerked and she stared at him in complete shock. “Five thousand dollars?” she mouthed.
James nodded and made a face that conveyed, “Totally worth it.”
Her face in reply said, “You’re crazy.”
It was obvious he disagreed with her, given the way he frowned and shook his head. “Thank you, Virginia, for being so willing to allow Ms. Ellington to assist me. You are a credit to your profession.” At that, Quinn pretended to stick her finger down her throat. He finished with a jovial “Cheerio.”
She touched the screen and ended the call. “There’s a part of me that wishes I could be there when she listens to that message. My guess is steam will come out of her ears when you say I won’t be in, and then she’ll fall out of her chair when she hears about the five grand.”
“Do you think she’ll believe we’re working or will she think I’m paying her off so I can sweep you off to some exotic locale.”
“As long as the money keeps rolling in, she wouldn’t care if I never came back.”
“I doubt that.” A cheeky smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Although now that I think about it, I might have to find someone cheaper to work with. You’re getting pretty expensive to keep around. Ow!” he yelped when she playfully slugged him on the arm.
“Stop making me sound like I’m some kind of kept woman.”
He rubbed the spot where she’d punched him and huffed a wry laugh. “Believe me. There’s not a man on this planet who can keep you.”
“Good,” she said, mollified. She tossed a couple of fries in her mouth, trying to finish off the rest before they went completely cold. “Is it okay if I call Nicole and tell her I’ll be gone?” she asked. “I promised I’d call her today and I definitely don’t want her hearing about our impromptu trip from Virginia tomorrow. I’m pretty sure she’d hunt me down, hurl Korean curse words, and then pummel me.”
“If I hadn’t met her myself, I’d say you were being a little overdramatic. You need to call her, but just keep the party line about why we’ll be gone.”
“Got it.” Not wanting James to overhear whatever inappropriate comments Nicole was sure to make, Quinn plugged her earbuds into her phone and stuck them in her ears. Then she slipped off her boots and got comfortable in her seat. She breathed deeply to mentally prepare herself and placed the call.
The phone had barely connected the call when Nicole shouted, “Do you know what time it is? I’ve been waiting for you to call me all day, Quinn. All day!”
“I know. I’m sorry. I called as soon as I could.”
“As soon as you could? What the heck do you mean by that?” Nicole was certainly worked up and Quinn expected the swearing to start any second. “Wait, were you out with James all night or something?”
“Actually, I kind of was.”
Quinn winced when Nicole cut loose with a thundering, “You were out with James all night? Oh my gosh. Did you sleep with him?”
“What? No!” she replied, matching Nicole’s volume level.
“Well, what am I supposed to think? I’ve never known you to be out all night with a guy before.” At least Nicole’s reply was at a volume that no longer threatened to rupture Quinn’s eardrums. “So what did you do all night?”
Quinn warned her off with a drawn-out “Nic.”
“Okay, okay. Backing off. How was dinner?”
“It was really nice. After dinner we walked down to the little park at Ocean and Santa Monica and sat on one of the benches for a while.”
“Oooo, romantic. Did he kiss you?”
Had that question come from anyone else, Quinn would have informed that person in no uncertain terms it was none of their business. However, having gone through Nicole’s postdate interrogations a couple of times before, she indulged her. “No.”
She harrumphed. “Did he at least hold your hand?”
“Yes.”
“He did? Was it like when you’re holding a little kid’s hand when you cross the street or were your fingers laced together?”
The memory of it made Quinn’s pulse race. “The second.”
She grimaced again when Nicole screeched like a pterodactyl. Even with the earbuds, James’s chuckle told her he’d heard Nicole’s enthusiastic response. At the mildly smug look on his face, she gave him a light shove on the shoulder.
“You two are so cute,” Nicole gushed. After a brief pause, she said, “Wait a second. Your answers are even shorter than usual. Why are you being so—” It was like a destructive pressure wave after a bomb detonation when she yelled, “You’re still with him now, aren’t you? Is he right there?”
“Yes.” Quinn giggled and pictured the flailing that surely accompanied the unintelligible gurgling coming from her friend. She waited patiently until they subsided and said, “Maybe I should finish my story.”
“Yes, please.”
Quinn imagined her friend literally bouncing in her seat.
“After the park, James drove me home and on the way he got a call about one of the items we’ve been researching.”
“Late on a Saturday night? That’s weird.”
Quinn scrunched her nose. It was kind of weird. Thinking fast, she said, “Apparently, this person is even worse than me when it comes to not stopping until he finds the answer to something. He probably didn’t realize what time it was when he called.” She pulled a face and held her breath as she waited for Nicole’s response.
“Yeah, that does sound worse than you. You’re a close second, though.”
Quinn silently released her breath and forged ahead. “Anyway, it’s really important we track this lead down as soon as possible. Since we need to do it in person, we stopped off at my apartment, picked up some clothes, dropped Rasputin off with Rick, and hit the road. I called not only to check in with you, but to tell you I won’t be at work at all this week.”
“The entire week? Does Virginia know?”
“Yeah. James called and left her a voice mail.”
“Tomorrow should be fun at work,” Nicole said. “Where are you going, by the way?”
“I can’t say. Client confidentiality and all that.”
Quinn knew it was a lot for Nicole to process. Even so, the silence that followed was unnerving. When it dragged on, Quinn ventured with a tentative, “Nic? You still there?”
“Quincy Ellington, I can’t believe you’d lie to me.”
Her stomach clenched. Nicole couldn’t possibly know the truth. “Wha—Um, what do you mean?”
“You two are obviously road-tripping to Vegas to get married.”
At the droll tone she heard in Nicole’s voice, she let out a hearty, relieved laugh. “Yeah, you’re on to us. We’re totally eloping.” James jerked and Quinn had to brace herself against the seat when the car swerved. “Easy there, big fella.” She chuckled and patted his arm.
He shot her a wounded albeit amused look. In his James Lockwood voice, he said loudly, “That’s not funny, Nicole.”
Nicole laughed and shouted back, “It is, too.” After Quinn passed along to him her friend’s retort, Nicole’s voice turned serious. “Look, Q, I have every reason to believe you’re on your way to track down information on some dusty old artifact. But even if you’re not and it’s just some lame-ass excuse you told Virginia so the two of you can run off and spend the week together doing God knows what, your secret’s safe with me. I’ve seen the way you two are together and I gotta say, kiddo, it’s magical. And you’re happy. I can tell.”
“I am,” Quinn answered quietly, her voice raspy from the sudden swell of emotion.
“Good. You deserve it. Have fun this week and give me a call when you get home.”
“I will. Thanks, Nic,” she said and smiled. “You’re the best.”
Turning sassy, Nicole said, “You two can thank me by naming your firstborn daughter after me.”
Quinn snorted and said, “We’ll take it under advisement. Bye, Nic.”
“Bye.” She touched the screen and tugged out her earbuds.
“We’ll take what under advisement?” James asked.
She laughed and shook her head. “You really don’t want to know.”
He alternated between studying her and keeping his eyes on the freeway. When she judiciously kept her gaze forward and stared out the windshield, he nodded and said, “Okay. I don’t want to know.” After a short pause, he asked, “Anyone else you need to talk to?”
“My parents.”
“Go for it. You did a great job with Nicole, you’ll do fine with them, too.”
“I don’t like keeping the truth from anyone, especially my parents.”
“From what you’ve told me about them, I’m sure they would understand, especially if they knew why.”
She nodded, stuffed the earphones in her ears, and placed the call. Quinn only spoke with her mom who explained her dad had unexpectedly been called to the base for a meeting. This was followed by a news report about the latest sick relative and how things were going with her work, helping spouses and families learn to cope when their loved ones were deployed. When her mom asked how she was, Quinn started at the beginning and spent the next five minutes telling her what she’d been up to with James the past week. Even when Quinn told her she’d be traveling with him, there was no commentary from her mother other than “Well, that sounds really interesting, honey.” After a few more minutes of chatting, the call ended and she removed her earbuds.
“That’s it?” James asked. “No third degree? Nicole grilled you more than your mom did.”
“My parents are always there for me, but they don’t inject themselves into my life. My dad always says, ‘You’re an adult. Falling on your keister once in a while is a good way to learn about life.’”
“Spoken like a true Marine.” He glanced at her and asked, “Are you concerned your decision to go on this mission will be a ‘fall on your keister’ kind of thing?”
“No,” she answered without hesitation. “This isn’t about me paying too much for car insurance or getting blowback for something stupid I did or said at work. This is probably the most important thing I’ll ever do. I know I made the right decision. And if something does go sideways, I’ll learn from it and move on.”
“That’s a good attitude to have, because missions like these never go the way you think they will. Take a look at last night.”
“Yeah. Last night I learned never to turn my back on my date. Especially when he’s a handsome spy wielding a tranquilizer gun.”
“I’m still really sorry about that,” James said ruefully. “Speaking of the op, since we have some time, I’d like you to examine the letter we found in the clock more closely. It’s in my briefcase in the backseat. Can you reach around and grab it?”
She twisted around and maneuvered the briefcase onto her lap. She found the envelope and from the weight of it, knew the ring was in it, too. “Handling this letter with fingers that have been eating French fries inside a moving car is probably not the greatest idea in the world,” she said as she returned the case to the backseat. She rubbed her fingers on her thighs hoping to remove any residual salt and oil.
“We don’t have much choice. I’m handing it off before we get on the plane. The agency needs to analyze it. This is our only chance to take another look at it.”
“Ooo, like a secret handoff where you bump into someone and you pass it to them without anyone noticing?”
“Something like that.”
“Cool.” She carefully slid the note from the envelope and unfolded it, doing her best to only grip the outside edges with her fingertips. She read the contents of the letter out loud again and when she finished, added, “The guy was such a slimeball.” When James looked at her side-eyed and conspicuously cleared his throat, she sighed, “And so was she.”
“Thank you,” he said and dipped his head with faux magnanimity. “What we need to do now is look at it not as a love letter, but as a coded message.”
“Like skipping words or reading every other line?”
“Mmm-hmm. If it’s a more complex code—if there’s one at all—agency cryptologists will work it out. I know it’s a long shot, but it’s worth a try.”
“Agreed.” Over the course of the next fifteen minutes, she read the letter out loud over and over again. She skipped every other word, then every second word, every other line and different combinations of skipping lines and words. Nothing made sense. Quinn blew out a frustrated breath. “The only locations mentioned are London, which doesn’t narrow it down at all if we’re looking for a suitcase nuke or something like that, and this Summerfield place.” She searched Summerfield on her phone, which turned up nothing helpful.
“Summerfield might be a house name. Unless it’s a fairly large estate, it probably won’t show up on any searches. And trying to track it down without access to property records at the county level would be almost impossible.”
“That sounds like something the analysts at the agency could do,” she said.
“Or librarians with the right kind of access.”
Being an agency librarian was rapidly becoming her new dream job. She absently stared out her window and watched the scrub brush and the billboards pass by as she mulled over the letter. After a couple of minutes, she looked at James and said, “Dobrynin was Russian. What if Summerfield is a town in Russia, or maybe one of the former Soviet republics? Since you were in Moscow, I assume you speak Russian.”
“Da.”
Her insides bounced. Now she knew how he’d felt when he watched her field strip his Glock. Based on her reaction to him uttering a single Russian word, she was going to have to turn her brain-to-mouth filter up to eleven for the next few minutes. Who was she kidding? she thought with an internal eye roll. Their decision to keep their relationship purely professional over the course of the op meant her filter would have to be set to eleven for the foreseeable future.
She sipped her root beer and dragged her brain back to the problem at hand. “What’s Summerfield in Russian? Maybe that’s what we should be searching for.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I don’t think there’s an exact word for ‘Summerfield’. But if you break the two words apart, ‘summer’ is ‘lyeh-tah’ and ‘field’ is ‘po-leh.’”
“That’s how they’re pronounced. I might need to search them in Cyrillic.” She scowled at her phone perched on her thigh. Doing the kind of research she needed to do was going to be laborious on such a limited device. And it would take hours. Still, there had to be a way.
“I know what that librarian brain of yours is thinking, Quinn. Don’t even try.”
“But—”
He held up a hand. “It’s a brilliant idea and I know you want to keep going with it, but there’s no way we’ll get to the bottom of it in the next thirty minutes. Why don’t you write down your idea on a piece of paper and put it in the envelope with the note? Let the agency analysts do the heavy lifting.”
Humming her reluctant agreement, she found a pen and a scrap of paper and scribbled out a note. She held the love letter up to the light coming through the window and scrutinized the paper. “I’m sure you considered invisible ink might have been used.”
“Yeah. That’s the main reason I snagged it instead of just taking a picture of it and leaving it at Fitzhugh’s house. It was really the first thing we found that fit what we were looking for. But it was a gamble that apparently blew up in my face.”
“Don’t say that because we don’t know what happened.” She lowered the letter and returned it and her note to the analysts to the envelope. “My guess is the gamble was worth it and this is an important clue.”
“I hope so.”
“Wait, did you say thirty minutes?” She’d been so engrossed in the note she hadn’t been paying attention to where they were. “We’ll be at the airport in thirty minutes?”
“A little less now, but yeah.”
Going to London on a CIA mission hadn’t sounded that crazy to her a few hours ago. But now, as they neared the airport, the reality of it all dropped on her like a pile of bricks. Anxiety crept up on her and the blood drained from her face. “This is all a weird dream, right? Or, some kind of elaborate practical joke and I’m gonna end up on one of those prank shows that make unsuspecting people look like idiots so other people can laugh at them. Right? That’s gotta be it. Come on. Tell me the truth.” When she heard the way her voice was rising in pitch and the panic edging into it, she grew even more agitated. “This can’t be real.”
James slowed the car a little and looked at her, his face filled with worry. “Quinn, it is very real, but it’s gonna be okay.” He reached over, dropped his hand over hers, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. His touch was comforting and pulled her back from the brink. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You say the word and I’ll hand you off to our officers at the airport. They’ll keep you safe here in L.A. until it’s all over.”
In a flash, his words made her realize how much she loathed the notion of staying behind. “No.” With gritted teeth, her resolve returned. “I can do this. I want to do this.”
“Are you sure? I completely understand if you change your mind. I’m sure Meyers would, too.” He gripped her hand tighter. “You know how happy I’d be if you stayed here.”
“Yeah, I know.” She blew out a slow, cleansing breath. “I’ll be okay. I am okay.” With a wry smile, she said, “A little temporary insanity keeps you sane, right?”
“Right,” he said, sounding less than convinced. He lessened the grip on her hand, but didn’t remove it from where it rested atop hers. “If it makes you feel any better, from here on out, I won’t let you out of my sight.”
“I’m not sure how that will go over with the women in the ladies’ rooms I’ll visit, but it does help.”
“To be honest, you continue to amaze me.” He glanced at her with admiration in his eyes. “That little blip of nerves just now is nothing compared to how jumpy I was before my first op. I swear it was like I’d downed a six-pack of Red Bull. And I’d been trained and prepped up the wazoo for it.”
She missed his hand on hers when he returned it to the steering wheel. “I’ll have to tell you all about it, or at least the parts I can tell you about later though, because it’s almost go time.”
Her trepidation was replaced by excitement. She slipped her boots on, sucked down the last few swallows of her root beer, and shoved the detritus from lunch into the paper bag.
“I need to put a couple of things in my clothes bag. Can you haul it up here?”
As she had done with the briefcase, she did as asked.
James reached down with a free hand and removed the pistol and holster from his ankle. He handed it to her and said, “Clear it and stow everything in the bag.” She removed the magazine, checked the chamber, and placed the weapon on top of his still slightly damp clothes.
“You’re not bringing your weapons, even in your checked bag?”
“No. There are rules and permits needed and I don’t want to call attention to us. I’ll be rearmed soon after we land.” Next, he handed her the tranquilizer pistol.
She secured it as she’d done with the Glock. “What’ll you do with this bag?”
“It’ll get passed off before we go through security. I need you to put the letter and ring in there, too.”
She made a face at the thought of putting such a fragile and important piece of paper unprotected in a bag full of damp, dirty clothes and a couple of guns. She glanced around the interior of the car, looking for something she could use to protect the letter. Not finding anything, she checked the glove box. It was painfully devoid of anything useful. In a last-ditch effort, she rooted through her purse and chirped a quiet, “Yay!” when she found a thin plastic bag from the grocery store stuffed in a pocket.
“Why do you have a vegetable bag in your purse?”
“To make a toy for Rasputin. I tie knots in it until it’s kind of like a ball. It’s just the right size for him to carry around in his mouth and the soft plastic has some give on his teeth. Sometimes I tie a string to one and jerk it around so he can pounce on it.” She snapped the bag to unfurl it and slipped the envelope inside. “He shreds them up pretty fast, so I’m always having to make new ones.”
“Hours of fun, huh?”
“Yup, although not quite as fun as catnip.” Her voice turned conspiratorial. “We don’t talk about that. Almost had to put him in rehab. It was awful.” She put the now protected letter in James’s bag and zipped it closed.
James snickered, looked over his shoulder, and changed lanes. “You need to put your wallet and anything with your name on it in your bag that’ll get passed off, too. Can’t take the chance of going through airport security and having them find you with two sets of IDs.”
This wasn’t a surprise since he had previously informed her that for her own safety the agency would give her an alias. “You don’t know what my cover will be?” she asked as she traded his bag for hers.
“Not exactly. They’re working all of that out while we’re in transit. I’m sure they won’t do anything that will be too drastic of a change from who you already are. Most likely just a slightly different name. You’re new to all this. Making too many changes just increases the chances of slipping up.”
It seemed like overkill and completely unnecessary, but since the agency was in charge of making up all of her travel documents, she had no say in the matter. Reluctantly, she stuffed her wallet and checkbook in her bag. “If I get a charge on my credit card for one of those late-night infomercial juicers, I’m coming after you.”
“Nah, not a juicer. My money’s on a giant chocolate fondue fountain. Just in time for the agency holiday party.”
She smiled and shook her head.
His rascally smile disappeared. “You have to put your phone in there, too. You can’t have any Quinn Ellington personal contacts and photos.”
She growled at him.
“You’ll get a new one in London and the agency will forward any calls and texts to it so your friends and family won’t worry.”
She shut off her phone and stowed it in her bag. “They won’t notice any difference at their end?” She unceremoniously tossed the bag over her shoulder and onto the backseat.
“No. Everything will be relayed through the agency.” He glanced at her and then back at the road. “Why? Are you worried you might miss a call from the guy you met at Red’s the other night?”
She flinched. Oh no. “What?”
“You know, the bar you followed me to when I met with Shawna. You saw her text asking to meet me,” he stated.
There was no use pretending. “Yeah.” Humiliated and unable to look into his face, she stared at the dashboard. “I thought you might have lied to me when you said you weren’t married or didn’t have a girlfriend, so I followed you.”
“Ah.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Nah. I would have done the same thing.”
“Fair enough.” Cocking her head, she said, “Okay. I spilled my guts. Your turn. Who’s Shawna?”
His head wobbled from side to side, deciding what to say. “I know her through the agency,” he said without elaboration. “We went out to dinner once while I was at Langley planning this op. It was no big deal. Right after, I came here. You know when I disappeared for a week after I came into the library the first time? I got called back to Langley for some meetings. While I was there, Shawna was after me to go out again. I told her I wasn’t interested.” He snuck a peek at Quinn. “There was a librarian I’d just met who I wanted to spend more time with.”
She smiled. “Ed, right?”
“Yeah, Ed,” he said with a laugh. Eyes on the road again, he continued. “Anyway, she went kinda stalkery and flew out here to see me.” He scowled and his voice was snapped with pique. “She texted my cover phone. With the crap she was pulling, she could have blown the whole op.”
“That’s why you were so angry with her.”
“Yeah. She was way out of line. I knew she wouldn’t back off until I met with her. When I did, I told her to get the hell away. I was undercover, for God’s sake, and she put everything at risk the minute she contacted me. I informed Meyers before I even met with her. I think he’s more furious with her than I am. She’ll be disciplined for breaking protocol.”
“What about me? You gotta admit, I went a little stalkery, too.”
“Not really. You only followed me when you were faced with conflicting information about my cover.”
More or less, she thought. “And for the record, I don’t have any interest in getting a phone call from the guy from Red’s.”
“Good to know.”
The conversation lulled while his full attention was given over to navigating through traffic as they neared the airport. At the same time, Quinn tried to keep the knot of nerves and excitement from completely overwhelming her.
James drove to the appropriate rental car return area and stopped behind a row of cars waiting to be processed. After shutting off the engine, he took her hand and shifted to face her. “You’re gonna be great,” he said. “You remember what we talked about, right? You’re clear on what’s gonna happen as soon as we get out of the car?”
“I am,” she answered with a surprising amount of confidence. “I stick right next to you and follow your lead.”
He grinned and squeezed her hand once more. “Here we go.”
Ten minutes later, they stood waiting to board the shuttle bus that would transport them to the terminal. In front of them, the father of a set of twin toddler boys—both adorable and sporting mops of hay-colored hair—worked feverishly to load the family’s luggage and kid paraphernalia onto the vehicle. One boy straddled his mother’s hip while she held the hand of the other in a tight grip.
James dropped his bag on the ground next to Quinn’s feet and handed his briefcase to her. “Here, let me help,” he said to the dad and sprang into action. He picked up a car seat in each hand and stepped around the dad and into the shuttle. After stowing them on the luggage rack, he helped the driver stash the bags before making one more trip to the curb. He snagged the double stroller, leapt into the bus, and set it on top of the car seats.
“Your boyfriend is very sweet to help us,” the woman said. Before Quinn could correct her, the other woman lowered her voice and said, “We just finished the first half of our grand Christmas tour at his parents’ and now we’re off to mine.” With a weary laugh, she asked, “Is it January yet?”
Quinn gave her a sympathetic look. “Sorry. Only about halfway through December.” She reached out and gently bopped the nose of the little one on the woman’s hip with the tip of her finger. He giggled, turned bashful, and buried his face in his mother’s shoulder. “I’m sure your parents love seeing them. Mine appreciate it when my brothers and their families visit, especially knowing how much work it is. Entire countries have been invaded by armies with less stuff than what they bring along.”
“It’s nice to know we’re not the only ones,” the woman replied.
“You’re not. Not by a long shot,” Quinn said as James stepped down from the shuttle and rejoined her. Both parents thanked him and stepped up into the bus. From over his mother’s shoulder, Quinn received a shy wave from her new little friend. She smiled and waved back.
“Charming the entire male population again?” James asked as he took his briefcase from her and picked up his bag.
She watched a businessman in front of them lift the first of his two suitcases through the shuttle door. “Hardly, although I will cop to being quite the rock star with the three-and-under crowd.”
“And those of us who are a little older,” he said. He swung his briefcase toward the shuttle, indicating she should board before him now that the man’s second bag was loaded and out of the way. As soon as they boarded, the doors closed behind them. There were no empty seats, so they stood as the bus roared off toward the terminals.
Travelers unloaded at each stop—the family with the twins offloaded at Terminal One—until they reached the Tom Bradley International Terminal. It was there that Quinn and James, the businessman with the two suitcases, and a retired couple disembarked. Working together, the shuttle driver handed the bags to James who set them on the sidewalk. Once everyone was sure all of their bags were present and accounted for, the shuttle zoomed off. The retired couple found their suitcases, thanked James for his help, and hurried through the sliding doors into the building.
It surprised Quinn when James left his bag untouched on the sidewalk and instead pulled up the handle on one of the businessman’s rolling suitcases. Then he went to the other suitcase, a black one, extended the handle, and tipped it onto its wheels. His eyes darted to the first suitcase, a red one, and then fell on Quinn. “Shall we?” He still made no move to pick up his duffel bag, so Quinn left hers on the sidewalk next to his.
“Mmm-hmm.” Her concern over leaving her bag with her wallet, checkbook, and phone in the wide-open evaporated when the businessman picked up their bags and strode off down the sidewalk. A few seconds later a black SUV pulled up alongside him. The vehicle’s door swung open and he disappeared into the front passenger seat. The door closed and the SUV sped off.
Quinn wanted to make a quip about how very superspy it all was, but instinctively knew to remain silent. Instead, she took the handle of what was now her suitcase and looked at James expectantly.
They entered the building and were immediately confronted by travelers standing in long queues at airline ticketing counters. She followed James to an open area off to the left. Without a word, he unzipped a side pocket of his suitcase and removed a navy blue passport with the United States seal stamped in gold on the front. He flipped it open, glanced at it, and then shoved it in his back pocket.
Quinn followed his lead and unzipped the same pocket of her suitcase. There, she found a passport. Anticipation shot through her like a kid right before tearing into a Christmas present. She opened it and the first thing she noticed was her photo. It wasn’t her driver’s license picture as she’d expected. In fact, she didn’t know when or where that photo had been taken.
Next, she glanced at her name. She was now Quinn Riordan of Santa Monica. Like James, she slid the passport into her back pocket.
Then she removed a tan leather wallet from the suitcase pocket and opened it. In it, she found a driver’s license, a couple of credit cards, and a half-dozen business cards with Quinn Riordan’s name on them. They informed her she was a UCLA reference librarian. She approved immensely. Finally, she checked the money slot and pulled out a wad of cash that included both dollar bills and pound notes. She thumbed through them and counted two hundred dollars in twenty-dollar bills and five hundred pounds in twenty- and fifty-pound notes. There’d never been so much money in a wallet of hers in her life. Too bad it wasn’t actually hers.
She replaced the cash and when she did so, her finger touched a stiff piece of paper. She slid it out and gaped at a photo of her and James, arms around each other and blissfully grinning at the camera.
“Quinn,” James said just loud enough to catch her attention. Still stunned by the picture gripped between her fingers, she looked up at him and immediately followed his gaze to the glinting gold on his open palm. Unblinking, she stared at three rings and instantly knew what they were: a diamond engagement ring, a thin gold wedding band, and a larger, wider one.
She looked into his face again and whispered, “James Riordan?”
His eyes widened a fraction and the nod was nearly imperceptible. As easy as it would have been to stand there utterly dazed and unmoving, her brain shouted at her that James holding her wedding rings in the middle of the airport was an oddity. The notion compelled her to close her wallet and shove it in her purse. She swallowed hard, took the smaller two rings, and slipped them onto the third finger of her left hand. James did the same with the larger gold band. Only two words came to mind as she stared at the rings flashing on her finger: holy crap.