“No, ma’am, I’m Palmer, his bodyguard. He’s very important and the FBI doesn’t want anything to happen to him.”
Mrs. Hendricks gave Elizabeth the eye and sort of smiled, but it fell off her face when she remembered her mad. “Not a likely story, but you’re clever, I’ll give you that. Whoever you are, Palmer, come along, both of you.”
She seated them in her living room, photographs of her family and grandchildren on every surface and gorgeous handmade afghans tossed over chairs and the single big sofa. Rome said, “Let me tell you again how very sorry I am that you had to go through such a painful experience with the FBI in 1978.”
She snorted and pointed to the coffee, sugar, and cream on the tray. “Alex says it was because Wilson was one of their own and they were royally pissed he betrayed them. Help yourselves.” Rome poured himself and Elizabeth a cup, sat back, and took a drink. It was deep and rich and had quite a kick. He said, “You have a lovely house, Mrs. Hendricks.”
“Yes, thank you, I know. Enough playing nice, Agent Foxe. And you, Palmer, who are you really, besides his bodyguard?”
“I am Palmer, first name Elizabeth. I’m not his girlfriendor with the FBI, but I’m involved in another case and he asked me to accompany him. My job is to make sure he’s polite and thorough.”
“You’re English. A lovely accent, I’ve always thought. Do you know Colin Firth?”
“Sorry, no, ma’am. He’s quite too important for the likes of me.”
“You sound hoity-toity enough. Of course, you could be lying again, and I have to admit, you do it very well.” Mrs. Hendricks took a small drink of her fierce coffee, then handed Rome a small box from the side table beside her chair. “All right, Agent Foxe, here’s Wilson’s class ring from Alabama. I can’t imagine why you want to see it. It’s been stored away in that box for over forty-five years.” Mrs. Hendricks sat back in her chair, her legs so short her feet barely touched the floor, and watched both of them with an eagle eye.
Rome’s heart kicked up. He slowly lifted the class ring out of the box and wiped it gently on his sleeve. It was thick and heavy and large, withUniversity of Alabamaetched around its perimeter. There was a red stone at the center with a raisedAon it, not a ruby, but pretty. As Rome slowly examined the ring, Elizabeth turned to Mrs. Hendricks. “Agent Foxe told me you have three grandchildren. Are these their photos?”
“Yes, they are.” Mrs. Hendricks picked up a framed photo from the side table beside her. “These are Chloe and Timothy and Judson from last Christmas. The man standing behind them is Wilson’s son, Avery. He’s smart as a whip, announced when he was fifteen he wanted to be an FBI agent, like his dad. You can imagine I nipped that in the bud after Wilson went missing, and after how the FBI treated me. He’s a criminal attorney now, and he’s successful. Well, maybe that’s not so strange.”
Elizabeth shot a quick look at Rome, saw he was turning the ring every which way, prodding and pressing. “They’re handsome kids, Mrs. Hendricks. I have only one younger brother, Tommy’shis name. He lives in London.”What to say about Tommy? That he’s a drug addict and I left him in London over three months ago and pray he’s all right?She tried to think of something simple and positive to say without lying, ended up with, “He really enjoys music, jazz specifically.”
“Nasty, no rhyme or reason,” Mrs. Hendricks said. “Jazz, not your brother.”
Rome continued running his fingers over the ring. He’d nearly given up when he felt a small strip of metal give way at the side of the red center stone. The stone lifted. For a moment, he simply stared at it. There was a folded bit of paper in the small space behind it. He looked over at Mrs. Hendricks, saw she was lifting a framed photograph of a smiling preteen girl and handing it to Elizabeth. He quickly slipped the small bit of paper into his pocket, then pressed the red stone down and it clicked into place.
He waited, listening. “You see how very pretty she is. My husband says she’s the image of me at that age, and I laugh, since he didn’t know me when I was thirteen.” Elizabeth asked her more questions, said complimentary things about every one of her children and grandchildren, all of them old enough to be parents themselves.
Rome finally cleared his throat and stood. “Mrs. Hendricks, thank you for showing me Mr. Ballou’s class ring. You’ve been very helpful.”
Mrs. Hendricks scooted forward in the chair until her feet were firmly on the rug and stood up. “You won’t tell me why you wanted to see Wilson’s class ring?”
Rome smiled. “The ring wasn’t mentioned in the reports from 1978. I only wanted to be thorough.” He nodded to Elizabeth.
Obviously, Mrs. Hendricks wanted to question him more, but Elizabeth was fast. She walked to Mrs. Hendricks and shook her hand. “Thank you for the coffee, ma’am. I enjoyedspending time with you. Your children and grandchildren are amazing. No wonder you’re so proud. And yes, I’ll bet your husband is right, she does look like you when you were her age.”
Mrs. Hendricks smiled at Elizabeth, shot Rome a look that said it all quite clearly—You’re as big an idiot as those agents back in 1978. All that nonsense about Wilson’s stupid class ring? And like those morons, you won’t tell me a thing.
As soon as they were in Rome’s car again, Elizabeth said, “There was a compartment in that bloody ring, wasn’t there, Rome? What was in it? Come on, out with it.”
“A piece of paper. Let’s drive well out of sight of Mrs. Hendricks and we’ll look together.”
Rome pulled over to the curb in the next block under the shade of an oak older than his grandparents. He took a deep breath and pulled the small folded slip of paper from his pants pocket. Elizabeth crowded in, nearly on top of him, she was leaning so close.
“Ease back, Palmer—a good bodyguard’s name. You did good with Mrs. Hendricks.”
“Thank you.”
“Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here.” His fingers were clumsy he was so excited. Slowly, he unfolded the yellowed paper, so small there was barely room for the tiny handwritten markings. He looked at Elizabeth and gave her a blazing smile. “It’s a precise longitude, and I know it passes through northern Virginia, like the latitude we found in Ballou’s shoe. I think we know where to find whatever it was he was killed for.”
And she leaned forward and threw her arms around him. “You did it, Rome. They might make you director for this. You’ll be the youngest director of the FBI ever. You’ll see. Let’s go find it right now. I’m thinking diamonds? No, maybe bearer bonds. This is so exciting.”
At that moment, Rome wasn’t thinking about what they might find and what it could mean, he was aware only ofElizabeth, her warm breath on his cheek, pressed against him. She was laughing, happy, her blue eyes warm and excited.
She kissed him on the mouth.
His well-ordered world toppled over. He didn’t want to, it was the last thing he wanted to do, but he forced himself to pull back from her. It hurt to put that space between them.
