Page 78 of Once a Hero

“Did she kill your dad for it?”

Beatrice nodded. “I wonder how many times she tried.”

“How do you know that Molyneux hadn’t found the Amber Room, or at least more pieces of it?”

“No one could find all the panels, I don’t think,” Raynelle said. She hadn’t said much in the meeting, so when she did say something, Beatrice listened.

Kenichi nodded. “For all we know, the original Amber Room is lost. The Russians seem to think so. They’re happy with their reproduction.”

“I still can’t imagine a chamber where the walls were made entirely of carved amber.” Jake shook his head.

“The ceiling too,” Beatrice added.

The eighteenth-century chamber had been a gift from the King of Prussia to Peter the Great of Russia. There it remained until Nazi Germany got wind of it in World War II. Apparently, the Russians failed to protect the room, and everything in it had been lost to the war.

Or had it?

“If we don’t find the Amber Room or parts of it, will we lose our trail to Molyneux?” Jake asked.

“That’s where you come in.” Beatrice gently tapped Jake’s arm, then wondered if she should have. “You interrupted her quest.”

“I did?”

“You made her look like a fool, infiltrating her organization for three years,” Kenichi added.

“Yep.” Beatrice nodded. “She’s going to make an example out of you. She targeted you as a lesson for everyone.”

Jake’s shoulders sagged. “Am I putting you all in danger?”

“We’re past that.” Beatrice almost reached for Jake again, but she kept her hands to herself. “You’re one of us now. We’re in this together. Business, you know?”

“And more,” Jake mouthed.

But Beatrice read his lips.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Beatrice had a late lunch at two o’clock, and Jake joined her in the galley kitchen as they heated up frozen dinners in the microwave. Beatrice went for chicken tikka masala. Jake opted for chicken pot pie.

Neither of them wanted the assistance of the flight attendant, who was loading the compact dishwasher nearby. In fact, Beatrice told her to get some rest since the flight to Paris would be long.

Jake was happy not to have a third wheel in the kitchen. He wanted to every opportunity to be alone with Beatrice.

To talk.

Jake tried to contain his heartbeats—if it was possible to do so—but their proximity to each other in the kitchen made him want to wrap his arms around Beatrice’s waist for some reason. At this moment in time, he didn’t understand himself.

Stay calm.

He watched Beatrice press the timer on the microwave. In his mind, he wondered what life must be like living on the road—or in an airplane—all year round. He wondered if someday Beatrice might stop flying around and maybe…

Settle down?

He cleared his throat.

“You must be wondering why we’re eating frozen dinners when we could afford this Gulfstream.” Beatrice leaned against a stainless-steel cabinet. She pointed to the unused stove nearby.

Jake shrugged himself out of his other train of thought. “Sometimes I get home to my apartment famished. There’s no time to cook anything, so I get a takeout or I pop something in the microwave or I make a PBJ.”

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