Donovans 01 - Amber Beach

about a lifetime of unhappy comparisons in Jake’s mind. She and Jake were, as Ellen would put it, on a short clock.
    “Did you know that Pete was going to buy me?” Jake asked.
    “Did he try?” Ellen asked.
    “What do you think?”
    She took her time answering, obviously thinking through the implications and possible outcomes of answering or not answering Jake’s question.
    “All right,” she said. “Resnikov couldn’t buy you so he got cute. What happened?”
    “Is he yours?” Jake asked again.
    “He’s ours the same way Russia is our ally in this brave new world.”
    “Neutrality most of the time, favors some of the time, and trust none of the time,” Jake summarized.
    “That’s it. What happened?”
    “When I wouldn’t agree to outright purchase, I found one of his men in my cabin planting stolen amber artifacts.”
    Honor snapped her head around toward Jake so fast that her hair flew out. “What happened? Is that how you got muddy? Are you all right?”
    “Were the artifacts from the Amber Room?” Mather demanded.
    Jake laced his grubby fingers through Honor’s and squeezed gently, silently telling her not to worry.
    “Nothing that modern,” Jake said. “Stone Age artifacts. Very, very nice bits of work. They defined ‘museum quality.’ One of them even had an inventory number inked on the back.”
    Mather pulled a cellular phone out of his pocket and began punching in numbers.
    “Where are the pieces now?” Ellen asked.
    “I sent them back to Pete with a message.”
    “Yeah, I’ll bet.” Bright red nails tapped on navy blue leather. She glanced at Mather, who was speaking softly into the phone, but not so softly that the others couldn’t overhear.
    “Forget it,” Mather said. “We already know that the primary subjects are back together.”
    Jake bent and said against Honor’s ear, “How does it feel to be an official primary subject of the U.S. government?”
    Gooseflesh rippled on her arms as the warmth of his breath stirred her hair, yet the knowledge that she was being watched so closely made her stomach lurch.
    “Is Resnikov still eating clams?” Jake asked.
    There was a long silence while Mather listened.
    “Stay with them,” he said finally. “Tell the SEAL to stay with the boat. We’ll be in touch.”
    Honor looked at Jake. “The seal? As in bark-bark, give me a fish?”
    “As in navy commando,” he said softly, and hoped he wouldn’t have to meet Ellen’s SEAL up close and personal.
    Mather flipped the phone closed and stuffed it back in his pocket.
    “Well?” Ellen asked him.
    Uneasily Mather looked at Jake.
    “Don’t worry about me,” Jake said. “I already figured out that every time Pete takes a crap one of your men is sitting in the stall next to him. So your guy just told you that two muddy clowns turned up at the Chowder Keg and told Pete what he already knew—no sale. Again. As for the SEAL waiting around for you, he’s the squared-away, buffed-up, hell-on-two-feet dude who’s getting the best out of that Bayliner every time we go out on the water.”
    “Did Jake miss anything?” Ellen asked Mather.
    “Just what Resnikov said to the men.”
    “Yeah?”
    Mather shrugged. “It was in Russian, but our guy could tell that Resnikov wasn’t pinning medals on them and kissing their hairy cheeks.”
    Ellen resumed tapping her fingernails against her purse.
    “Did you eat all the salmon salad?” Jake asked Honor.
    “How did you know I made salmon salad?”
    He bent down, kissed her, and whispered, “I tasted it.”
    “It’s in the refrigerator,” she muttered.
    “What kind of bribe would I have to offer to get you to make a sandwich while I shower?”
    “Get rid of our guests. I’ve had it way past up to here.”
    “Okay.” Jake straightened. “Good-bye, Ellen. Take your friend with you. When I have something I want to share, you’ll be the first to know.”
    Ellen’s red-lacquered nails went still. She looked at him for a long moment and decided it was the best deal she was going to get right now. She turned to Mather. “C’mon. Let’s see where Marju Unpronounceable is staying.”
    The front door had barely closed behind them when Jake turned to Honor.
    “Start packing,” he said.
    “I don’t want to go anywh—”
    She stopped talking. No one was listening. The back door had already closed behind Jake. Hands on hips, she watched him trot down the path to the boat. A minute later he reappeared with a nylon duffel