Page 13 of The Mouse and the Maestro

“It’s a different kind of classified.”

“What other kind is there?” Blue asked.

“The personal kind. Take my assurance she’s clean and keeping her safe is your number one priority. In fact, Blue, your life depends on it.”

“Okay, that’s not cryptic at all,” Blue drawled.

“What in our job isn’t cryptic?” Ridge asked.

“You have a point there.”

“How did it go between you two, other than the tail? I take it you’re both still alive and no one got maced or Tasered.”

“No, it was fine. She’s, ah, growing on me. A little.”

“Good. Maggie likes her.”

“Maggie likes everyone,” Blue said.

“No, she sees the potential in everyone; there’s a difference. But Jane she likes. She thinks she’s shy and misunderstood.”

“She may be,” Blue said. And she also might be a master forger. Despite Ridge’s assurances, he wasn’t ready to let go of his suspicion yet, even if it was the best kiss he’d had since before he cared to remember. “Hello?” he tried, but Ridge was gone without saying goodbye. Again. “Good talk, boss,” he muttered and turned the car toward home.

The next morning,coffee for Jane was more of a necessity than a habit. She eased into the chair of the conference room at the museum, trying to slip under the radar and go unnoticed as usual. The chair beside her squeaked. She peeked out of thecorner of her eye and saw Blue scoot close to the table. He gave her a tentative smile.

She leaned toward him and whispered. “Guaranteed spill proof,” tapping the lid of her travel mug.

He snickered a laugh, drawing the attention of Maggie and Ellen across from them. Maggie raised her eyebrows. Blue shrugged. She reached for her phone and sent a text. His phone pinged and he texted in return. Jane was dying to know what they were saying.

Ridge stood and once again the room came to attention. Jane had no idea what his secret was, but he might consider teaching high school when his career in military intelligence was over. He filled the team in on the artifact from yesterday.

“Maggie and Blue have created this database for us that overlays known forgery sales with known terror cells. As you can see the pings radiate from DC and Philadelphia. Curiously we haven’t discovered any overlap in New York, which tells us either we haven’t caught it yet or our forger is someone local.”

Beside her Blue shifted in his chair. Ridge continued.

“Tomorrow Jane and Blue head to New York for a couple of days. Jane will be checking a few artifacts and Blue will be running intel on her contacts there. Whoever our forger is, he or she is unsettlingly familiar with the dark web. Judging by the language the person has been using online, it appears to be the same person or possibly someone with an extensive knowledge of the forgeries and the realm in which they belong. After my conversations with Jane, I’m convinced it would either have to be someone who has been educated in Egyptology or spent enough time in the field to have a working knowledge of artifacts. These are detailed, impeccable forgeries that, again according to Jane, must have taken months if not years to create. Jane, can you expand more on that, please.”

He had warned her he would call on her today, and she felt better prepared. She had notes, and her coffee had a spill proof lid in case she went Nutty Professor again. “Thank you, Agent Ridge,” she remembered to say as he sat and handed her the floor. “The best replicas are not complete fakes. They employ a mix of old materials and new techniques. For instance, someone might purchase a piece of material that’s a few centuries old for relatively few dollars, embellish it to look a few millennia old. They would then be able to sell it for hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of dollars. Unfortunately as our detection methods have gotten better, so have their forgeries. They’re sophisticated and, as Agent Ridge said, take a vast and working knowledge of the subject in question. And even then they sometimes squeak through the vetting process. I’ll not bore you with the details of how many fakes are on display, even here at the Smithsonian, because I know your concern lies in the flow of where the money is going and what it’s being used for. Suffice it to say it’s a sophisticated operation being carried off by someone incredibly intelligent.”

“Thank you, Jane,” Ridge replied, standing again. “In addition to our work here, Ethan has been tracking a smuggler in Iraq who we believe may have ties to our forger. I’ll let you know as soon as we have more on that front. Thank you everyone.”

The meeting was adjourned. Jane closed her laptop and made sure her sweater wasn’t stuck before she tried to stand this time. “When would be a good time to meet, Jane, and discuss our trip?” Blue asked.

“I’m available now, if that works for you,” Jane replied. The team wasn’t sticking around the museum. They had their meetings there as a courtesy to her schedule and then returned to their office a mere five blocks away.

“Now is perfect,” Blue said. He strapped his messenger bag over his shoulder and followed her to her office. She closed the door, and they sat with her behind the desk and him on the opposite side.

“Before we begin, may I say one thing?” Jane asked.

“Absolutely,” he replied.

“You must think I’m psychotic.”

“That wouldn’t have been my word, no,” he said.

“No, it’s okay, you can say it. First I pepper sprayed you for daring to step onto an elevator with me. Then I fell all over myself like a puppy viewing snow for the first time. And then I kissed you. Last night I had a chance to go over my behavior, and I’m so incredibly embarrassed. You’re trying to do a job here, an important job, and I don’t want to stand in the way of that. Please, can we forget everything that’s happened and begin again?”

“If you’d like,” he said. He held out his hand to her. “Blue Bishop.”

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