“Senior editor, ambitious young woman, long days, working weekends...” She filled in the blanks.
“Right. We'll just keep that to ourselves.”
Kris explained what she needed.
“The contact information for the woman who was the primary consultant on the Bayeaux Tapestry for the book that was published a few years ago. She's an expert on Medievaltapestries.” She envisioned him shoving a hand back through spiked red hair.
“That may take some digging.”
“Then dig,” she told him. “It's important. Call me back when you have it.”
It had been almost six years since the book was put out. She had come in late on the project, with most of the research and background information already in place.
The book, with over a hundred color plates, had been the project of Senior Editor Nina Blanchard and had taken almost two years to put together and publish, the most complete and authoritative book on the Bayeaux Tapestry, with the expertise and knowledge of a woman who had spent her entire adult life not only researching the history of the tapestry, but was an authority on the fabrics, yarns, dyes, and techniques that had been used at the time and the most recent restoration.
She picked up the call on the first ring tone.
“You are such a pain in the ass,” Alec told her.
“What have you got?”
According to the information he was able to come up with, Diana Jodion lived in France and taught at the University at Caen in Normandy. He provided the number they had at the time.
“I owe you.” As soon as she said, she knew exactly how Alec took it.
“Yes, you do.”
She placed a call to that number at the university. Diana Jodion was just leaving for her next class. Kris heard the interest in her voice.
“Yes, of course,” Diana replied. “I would be happy to meet with you. I am here late the rest of the week, an afternoon lecture series.”
When the call ended, she looked up and found James Morgan leaning against the doorway to the bedroom, wet hair shoved back, wearing a sweatshirt over that tattoo, handsome and intimidating all at the same time.
He heard the end of the conversation, and knew what she was thinking. Part of it came from the relationship she'd had with Cate, a bond that came from working closely together over four bestselling novels, and friendship, believing in that first book that the publisher wanted to change, fighting with the marketing departments. He'd heard all about it from Anne.
Another part of it was who she was—smart. She knew how to think her way through things, he knew that from Cate, with a whole lot of stubborn thrown in. She didn't like giving up, or being told no. He'd seen that more than once since that first encounter at the airport. And the last part was the simple fact that she was more like Cate than she probably knew. She didn't quit.
“Diana Jodion?”
He'd apparently heard most of the conversation.
“She's an authority on Medieval tapestries,” she explained. “She was the consultant on a book we published a few years ago. She may be able to tell me something about the tapestry in the photograph. Cate had contacted her several times.”
“In France.”
She heard the disapproval in his voice.
“She's agreed to meet with me. She may be able to tell me something about the tapestry that will provide some clue why someone is after the photograph.”
“Let the authorities do their job,” he told her. “Go back to New York.”
He went into the kitchen and poured another cup of coffee. End of conversation.
Not quite.
“I'm not going back. Not yet.”
He leaned back against the counter, cup in hand. “You've done your job. It didn't work out. There's nothing more you can do.”
