B
laine glanced down at his vibrating phone, saw Tripp’s number and grabbed it from the table.“Excuse me a second,” he said to the others and headed for the entrance of the restaurant as he answered.“Tripp.What’s up?”
“This a bad time?”
“No, meeting’s done.I’m just having lunch with them.”
“Good, because I need a favor.”
Tripp never asked anyone for anything.“I’m intrigued.What kind of favor?”
“We’ve got a code that needs breaking.”
“What kind of code?”
“It’s related to the ammo cache Willow found.Looks like whoever’s responsible might have been communicating with it using a library book.”
“What?”he said on a laugh.“Wait, are you serious?”It was so old school.Like something out of a spy thriller from the 40s.
“Dead serious.If they went to the trouble to stockpile and bury the ammo, they’re already paranoid.Maybe they’re avoiding using electronics so they won’t leave a digital trail.”
“That’s pretty next level paranoia for the locals here, considering over half of them are retirees, but okay, it’s possible.What do you want me to do?”
“I was thinking Maddy might be able to do something with it.”
He blinked.“I haven’t spoken to her in a year.”Not since their last assignment overseas together before he’d left the intelligence world behind and moved here to start his new business.“Last I heard, she was on assignment in Iran.”
“Think you could still reach her?”
“I’ll track her down.”
“Great, thanks.I’m sending you pictures of what we have.Pretty sure the people we’re dealing with here aren’t rocket scientists, but none of us can figure out what the hell it means, so I’m hoping it won’t take her long to crack it.”
No, Blaine doubted it would take her long either.Maddy was the best at what she did.“Okay, I’ll get hold of her.Stand by.”
Today was getting more and more interesting by the hour.The meetings had gone well.Better than he’d expected, to be honest.The project had been approved and was officially going ahead, and now he was invested in this latest mystery unfolding here on Skelly.
Standing in a patch of shade off to the side of the sidewalk, he noticed a tall, slender woman with short black hair coming toward him as he made his first call.She was good-looking, with black cargo pants and a snug black T-shirt that hugged her lean torso, outlining the curve of her breasts.
“Hey, I need a number for one of our contractors in Syria last year,” he said into the phone.
The woman walked past him, started to reach for the restaurant door handle.
He leaned over and grabbed it for her, pulled it open.
She flashed him a quick smile and kept going.“Thanks.”
He nodded, spoke to the person he had on the line while watching the woman walk into the restaurant.She looked as good going as she did coming.“Okay, got it,” he said to his contact.
Two calls later, and he had the number he needed.
“Is this actually you, or am I being punked right now?”a familiar voice answered moments later.
He chuckled.“Please, I know you’ve probably got my ID and location triangulated on a screen in front of you right now, or you wouldn’t have answered.”
“Ah, you know me so well.How the hell are you?”
“Fantastic.Living the dream.”Life on Skeleton Island was a major adjustment, but it was probably just what he needed.
