Rogue Commander, Leo Maloney [classic books for 11 year olds TXT] 📗

a silence, and then the man said, “I see....Is this an emergency?”

“It might be,” Jenny said. “For him.”

“One minute, please.”

Then there was a much longer silence, some footsteps and rustling, and the man named Lincoln came back on the line. “Mrs. Morgan, I’ll call you back in ten minutes at this same number you called from. Is that all right?”

“Yes.”

Jenny hadn’t moved from the garden. She just paced, feeling her heart rate up a tick, and was somehow thrilled to be tasting even a small portion of Dan’s game. Maybe, for the first time ever, she had an inkling of why he was addicted. She jumped when her cell buzzed again.

“Mrs. Morgan?” It was Mr. Lincoln again.

“Yes, I’m here.”

“Would you be willing to meet privately?”

Now Jenny’s heart really started to hammer. “What do mean by privately?”

“I mean one-on-one, but it’ll be in a public place of your choosing.”

She thought for a moment as her palms went slick and she touched her chest. “All right. How about Boston Harbor? Down by the Constitution?”

“That’ll be fine. Can we say four o’clock this afternoon?”

“Yes.” Jenny found herself nodding at the phone. “How will I find you?”

“I’ll find you. What’s your favorite book?”

“Excuse me?”

“A favorite book, Mrs. Morgan. Something you still have in your house.”

“Umm...Sophie’s Choice.”

“Please carry it with you, in your right hand.”

“Okay, but if for some reason you can’t find me, can I—” She stopped when she realized he’d hung up.

She felt a bit silly now, in her femme fatale getup, sitting there clutching the book in her lap, and looking at her wristwatch every ten seconds. People were still walking by—parents with kids licking ice cream cones and some tourists chattering in some Scandinavian language—but the flow was definitely thinning.

A young man approached from the left, wearing a leather jacket and a baseball cap. She stiffened and tried not to stare, but he passed her right by.

What’s this Lincoln guy going to look like? A frock coat and a stovepipe hat?

A couple of young navy sailors walked by, probably from the Charlestown Navy Yard off to the left. They were wearing those new, blue digital camouflage uniforms that Dan always made fun of.

“The whole point of navy whites was so they could spot you if you went overboard. With those getups on, you’re nothing but shark bait. Nobody’ll see you, for Christ’s sake. Somebody in the Pentagon must have an uncle in the rag trade.”

She smiled as she remembered his disdain and looked at her watch again—four on the button. It was starting to get chilly, and almost everyone was gone, except for one woman who had just come out of the museum gift shop carrying a small shopping bag. Jenny glanced at her briefly—lightweight tan coat over a gray business suit, glossy, short brunette cut, and photo-gray glasses gone dark from the sun. She looked away again, hoping the woman would just pass by. But she strode up to Jenny’s bench and took a seat at the other end.

Oh no, The last thing I need now is company.

“Nice day today,” the woman said as she placed her bag on the bench.

Jenny just grunted and kept her gaze fixed on the Constitution. If she was really impolite, maybe the woman would take a hint. But she didn’t.

“I like that novel,” she said. “William Styron’s one of my favorites.”

Again, Jenny said nothing. For pity’s sake, please go away! she pleaded in her mind, but the darn woman kept on talking.

“You have much better literary tastes than your husband, Mrs. Morgan. He seems to only read about fast cars and firearms.”

Jenny snapped her head around and stared. The woman smiled slightly and pushed her sunglasses up onto her head. She had large hazel eyes and manicured eyebrows, but no other makeup except for a hint of lip gloss. Something about that face looked very familiar, but...

“You’re not Mr. Lincoln,” Jenny whispered.

“No, I’m his boss, which, in effect, makes me your husband’s as well.”

A current of panic jolted through Jenny, and she gripped the paperback with both hands. Why would Dan’s boss be here, unless...She felt a painful hitch in her chest.

“Is Dan all right?”

“Oh, of course, he’s fine.” The woman smirked “I mean he’s out of contact, but he’s always fine.”

Jenny realized her knees were shaking, but she had to ask. “Alex too?”

“Alex too.” The woman nodded. “Healthy as a thoroughbred colt.” She got up, moved a couple of feet, and sat closer to Jenny. “I’m Diana.” She didn’t offer her hand.

“Nice to meet you...I think,” she said. “I’m Jenny.”

“Yes, I know.” Diana Bloch leaned back, hiked her elbows onto the bench back, crossed her stockinged legs, and bounced a heel in the air. It was a very “male” posture. She turned her face away and looked out at Old Ironsides. “It’s such a beautiful ship. We’ve actually met before.”

“We have?” Jenny stared at her profile. She was pretty in a strong-jawed, angular, way.

“Yes. Starbucks”

“Oh my God,” Jenny gasped.

“I apologize for that.” Diana turned her face back again and looked at her fully. “I didn’t enjoy having to manipulate you, but I had little choice I’m afraid.”

“Well, you’re certainly good at it,” Jenny said in a tone that wasn’t a compliment. “But why?”

Diana recrossed her legs the other way, turned to Jenny, and dropped her voice to a cooler murmur. “I will tell you. Actually, I need to tell you. But understand that this is a national security issue.”

Jenny’s pulse started beating in her neck. Did she really want to hear any of this? “Well, I can certainly keep a secret. But what do you want me to do? Cross my heart?”

Diana sniffed, then glanced at her lap. “I don’t happen to have a bible on me. You can swear on Sophie’s Choice.”

Jenny looked down at the book where her fingers were trembling on the cover. “Okay, consider it done.”

“That’s meaningless, of course.” Diana removed her sunglasses from her head and chewed on the stem. “But I’m a reader of souls,