“It’s been stolen.”
Spiro shook his head. “Even if such a thing were possible, and it’s not, then by whom? For what purpose? The entire area is an uninhabited marine sanctuary. It’s worthless except to a bunch of green turtles, humpback whales, and seabirds.”
The second man was at parade rest a couple feet behind Eugene. He was very fit. Closely shaved head and a three-day-old beard. Tattoo of two crossed sabers with a number one above them on his right hand. Both men appeared to be in their early forties. Both were wearing gray suits and white dress shirts. Top button open. No tie.
Riley thought neither looked like a scientist. She thought the man with the tattoo looked like a hired assassin, and Eugene looked like his pimp.
“We ran a background check on you just now,” the man with the tattoo said to Emerson. “Bottom line is, you’re a well-known troublemaker.”
“That’s nice of you to say,” Emerson said. “But I’m not sure how well-known I am. Maybe in certain circles I’ve achieved some degree of prominence, but I wouldn’t really describe myself as famous. Really, I just put my pants on one leg at a time, like every other troublemaker.”
“Is that supposed to be clever?” the man said.
Eugene stepped to one side and turned slightly. “This is my associate, Tim Mann, but everyone around here calls him Tin Man. He’s in charge of protecting park resources for the Pacific West Region.”
“Tin Man,” Riley said. “That’s a clever play on your name.”
“And like the Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz, I could be kind of human if I only had a heart.”
“Well, that’s certainly not extra creepy,” Riley said.
Emerson nodded. “I agree. There are so many other less creepy explanations you could choose. Like, I’m a grown man who collects tin soldiers in my spare time. Or, hello, would you like to see my tin thimbles, which happen to belong to me, a man?”
“Criminy, Emerson. That’s even worse,” Riley said. “Who asks someone he’s just met if she’d like to see his thimbles? That’s serial killer creepy.”
Emerson looked from person to person around the room. “Can we all just agree that Tin Man is creepy, but not, you know, serial killer creepy?”
No one offered any objection.
“Bottom line is, all those islands are protected marine sanctuaries, and unless your friend had a research permit from the NPS, he shouldn’t have been there in the first place,” Eugene said. “Notwithstanding that he broke about ten different federal laws and disturbed a fragile marine ecosystem, we’ll look into it and correct the maps during the next update.”
“So you don’t mind if we continue to look into it as well?” Emerson asked.
Tin Man locked eyes with Emerson. “Suppose I told you we do mind?”
“I would continue to look into it anyway,” Emerson said.
Eugene and Tin Man walked through the double doors leading to the private office of the director of the National Park Service. The director, Bart Young, was standing in front of a large window, watching Emerson and Riley leave the building.
“Boys,” Bart Young said, “the National Park Service was formed in 1916, and since that time there have been eighteen directors. And every one of those directors has been responsible for protecting probably this country’s biggest national secret. I am not going to go down in history as the director who failed to keep that secret.”
“I did a fast read through the dossiers on Knight and Moon,” Tin Man said. “Is this their complete history?”
“You were given the short version,” Bart Young said. “They were already in the system. It was easy to pull them up. Not long ago they created an international incident. Knight wanted to see his gold holdings, and things got out of hand.”
“We wouldn’t want things to get out of hand this time,” Tin Man said. “I would be happy to sanction them for you.”
The director looked over at Tin Man. “This is why I personally recruited you from Special Forces to lead the Rough Riders. Bloodlust. It’s a gift, really. Has there ever been anybody you haven’t wanted to kill?”
Tin Man smiled.
“Using this psycho and his army of thugs at this point is like using a cannon to kill a mosquito,” Spiro said. “Knight and Moon don’t know anything. They’re just stumbling around trying to pacify the monk. I think we should wait to see what they do next.”
“I’m inclined to agree,” Bart said. “A dead billionaire could draw some unwanted attention, and we don’t need that kind of scrutiny right now. How are you doing with your special project?”
“On time. More or less.”
Bart stared at him. “More or less isn’t acceptable.”
“Understood,” Spiro said. “We’ll be ready on time.”
“Follow Knight and Moon,” the director said to Tin Man. “Get wiretaps on their phones and monitor their Internet access.”
“And if they make trouble?” Tin Man asked.
“Then you do what you do best. You kill them.”
FOUR
RILEY AND EMERSON COLLECTED WAYAN BAGUS in President’s Park. He rose when he saw them, bowed slightly, and followed them to the car. No questions asked.
Riley thought the monk’s heartbeat was probably around ten beats per minute. Her heartbeat was up there at hummingbird level. She was getting sucked into another whackadoodle conspiracy theory obsession that was going to step on all the wrong toes. Last time Emerson went off on a tangent like this, it was a disaster. Okay, so it ended well, but getting to the end was a freaking horror.
The ride back to Mysterioso Manor was quiet, Riley and Emerson thinking their own thoughts, Wayan Bagus watching Beauty and the Beast on his little screen. Riley parked the Maybach in the garage and told Emerson and Wayan Bagus she would see them in the morning. She walked across the circular driveway to her Mini Cooper, and Emerson walked with her.
“Now that you’re once again my amanuensis and we’re involved in another investigation, I feel it would be best if you moved into Mysterioso Manor,” Emerson said.
“For how long?”
“I was thinking permanently.”
Riley stopped breathing for a beat, not sure what he was suggesting.
“Permanently is a long time,” she said.
“Not as long as until the end of time or forever. That would indicate the potential for infinity.”
“Where would I stay?”
“It’s a mansion. There are plenty of guest rooms. Anywhere you want. Although I was hoping you would spend tonight with me in the library.”
“The library,” Riley said. “That’s where you sleep.”
“Yes. I sleep in the tent. I find it more restful than the cluttered, elaborate bedrooms.”
Holy crikey, Riley thought. He wanted her to spend the night with him. In the library. She supposed that was flattering, and she did find him attractive, but she wasn’t sure she was ready. How would it affect their work relationship? And he was just so darn odd.
“This is so sudden,” Riley said.
“I suppose it is. I was hoping we could jump right into it, but I guess it would be okay if you wanted to go home and pack a few personal things to bring back here.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready to jump right into it. I mean, I like you. And there is a certain physical attraction . . .”
“Yes,” Emerson said. “I realize there’s a potential for distraction, but I’m sure we can work our way through that for the sake of the investigation.”
“The investigation.”
“Yes, and not just any investigation either. This one is worthy. A missing island. Sweet!” Emerson was practically vibrating with excitement. “We can do some research on the National Park Service tonight. Get a head start on tomorrow.”
“So you want me to drive all the way home, pack up a few personal things, drive all the way back here, and stay up all night doing your scut work?”
Emerson smiled. “Precisely.”
“And you want me to move in,” Riley said, making exaggerated quote marks with her fingers, “ ‘permanently,’ so I can be at your beck and call twenty-four hours a day?”