Page 69 of Once a Hero

Jake brushed aside Beatrice’s question to ask one of his own. “What did he get, exactly?”

“There are two brooches in a pretty box inside the crossbody bag. That’s what Molyneux wants.”

“A box? The brooch box that no one could find?”

“I didn’t spend the last five years looking for that box for nothing.” She paused. “Let me correct that. My brother, my team, and I. I don’t usually operate alone.”

“The real box?”

“Yes, with some modifications.”

Jake understood. “You inserted a GPS tracker into the box.”

“Ken did.”

“The two brooches in there, though…”

“Are fake, of course.”

“Will it blow up?”

“No. You can’t board a plane with an explosive.”

“I knew that, but how sure are you they will fly out of the country?” Jake asked.

“Because the rest of the Amber Room is not in the United States. At least we hope not.”

So many unanswered questions. “Let’s backtrack a bit. Did you know those two homeless men were fakes?”

Beatrice shook her head. “I figured as soon as Molyneux knows I’m here, she will deflect her personnel toward me.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?”

What did she mean by that? Jake waited for an explanation, but Beatrice drove on in silence.

Jake did not push her. He could be a patient man. He had been hunting for Molyneux for a few years now. He had been trained to wait patiently—for a few more minutes.

“I saw those two men as I was entering the bank.” Beatrice went in another direction with the conversation. “However, I could not assume they were not genuinely homeless, you know?”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t nimble on my feet.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go home and rest that leg for a few days? I’ll text you if we find anything.”

Jake laughed. “Not a chance. I’ll just wrap more gauze on it, and pray to God the stitches will hold.”

“I don’t want you to take too many painkillers. Maybe you should switch to Tylenol or something OTC.”

Jake reached for her arm. “Are you my nurse practitioner now?”

At the green light, Beatrice went straight through instead of turning right. The nice British lady on the phone told her to turn around.

“Airport is that way, isn’t it?” Jake remembered their first trip there this morning on the coach.

“I think we’re being followed.”

Jake peeked at the side rearview mirror. “That black truck?”

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