Donovans 01 - Amber Beach

talking to Kaliningrad.”
    “Hell of a time to do that.”
    “Apparently the contact was sampling local vodkas until well past normal business hours over there. He just returned her call. Oh, wait. Her line is open now. I’ll put you through.”
    Eyes narrowed in concentration, Jake kept turning pages of the log. A few moments later Charlotte Fitzroy, vice president of Emerging Resources and one of Jake’s oldest friends, came on the line.
    “Hey, Pres. You making any headway?” Charlotte asked.
    “Working on it. Has the government been all over you?”
    “Like a rash. I tried to be helpful—”
    Jake laughed and kept scanning the log.
    “—but they wouldn’t be specific about what they wanted,” she said, “so I couldn’t help them, could I?”
    “They want the Amber Room.”
    “So does everyone who ever heard of it.”
    “Yeah. Other than that, how’s it going?”
    “Business in general or Kyle Donovan in particular?”
    “Yes.”
    “Everything is lurching along without you, but I’ll be sending some contracts for your signature. As for Kyle, nothing new. No bodies with Western dental work. No mafiya -style hits related to the Baltic amber trade.”
    “You’re sitting on something,” Jake said.
    “My delicate little butt.”
    “C’mon, Char. Remember who pays the bills.”
    “I want to wait until I have something solid.”
    “I don’t.”
    “Oh, all right. One of our Kaliningrad contacts suggested we look on the other side of the former Soviet Union.”
    “Where?”
    “Kamchatka.”
    Jake stopped turning pages of the log. The Kamchatka Peninsula was only a short hop from Alaska. “Why?”
    “Kyle called a number there several times. A fishing resort, as near as we can tell. It’s run by Russians. Vlad Kirov is the owner.”
    “Go on.”
    “Nowhere special to go. They know Kyle. He and other Donovans have fished with them several times. End of story.”
    Jake went back to turning pages. “Do we have anyone in Kamchatka?”
    “Ed Burls, but he doesn’t speak Russian.”
    “Get a picture of Kyle to Ed. He can work with a translator.”
    “He’s a geologist, not a private investigator.”
    “If we don’t prove that Emerging Resources didn’t have anything to do with the missing amber, Ed won’t have a job.”
    “Good point. I’ll tell him that when he starts screaming.”
    “Have Zack start asking around hospitals, urgent care clinics, that sort of thing.”
    “Where?”
    “SeaTac to Anacortes.”
    “Is Kyle in the States?” Charlotte asked, startled.
    “His passport is, according to Ellen Lazarus.”
    “Her! What’s she doing in all this?”
    “Looking for the Amber Room.”
    “Oh. My. God.”
    “Yeah. Life is just full of wonderment.”
    “I told you it wasn’t destroyed! You owe me a thousand bucks!”
    “I said she’s looking for it, not that she found it.”
    “Details,” Charlotte said.
    “A thousand of them. Mine, not yours.”
    “Yet. Is Ellen still there?”
    “No.”
    “What happened?”
    “She offered an alliance.”
    “And?”
    Jake looked at the business card by the telephone: “Ellen Lazarus, Consultant.” The telephone number was of the 800 variety, no area code to give away location.
    “I’m thinking about it,” he said, “the way a pork chop thinks about teaming up with a starving wolf.”
    Charlotte laughed. “I hear you. Use her if you can, but wear rubber gloves. Do you think they have Kyle?”
    “They wouldn’t be barking up my tree if they did.”
    “Do you think he made it to the States?”
    “I don’t know. But people are acting as though the amber might have come here, with or without him. It’s not just Ellen. The government is guessing that Ms. Donovan wants to appear to go fishing while she retrieves the amber.”
    “What do you think?”
    “Uncle is probably right. The cops are watching Kyle’s cottage.”
    “Why?”
    “Because they can,” Jake said sardonically. “And because they want to question Kyle about the DOA with Third World dental work they found on the beach.”
    “Did you ever find the truck Kyle stole in Kaliningrad?” Char asked.
    “Not yet, and it doesn’t really matter. When we find it, it will be empty.”
    “You’re full of cheer, aren’t you?”
    “Kyle isn’t stupid. He would have had another truck stashed nearby, a truck no one would associate with stolen amber.”
    “Wouldn’t he have needed help moving the amber to the second truck?”
    “Amber is light,” Jake