“I thought you both were neurologists.”
“We are, but we’re working on different things.” She frowned as she moved up the stairs. “Okay, so it’s pretty close when you think about it. We’re working on the same group of diseases, but our approaches are different, if that makes sense. Our focuses are different. He thinks he can solve the problem purely with drug therapy. There’s a reason we keep our projects separate but we share a lot of the same funding. I use occupational therapies as well because the human body is an amazing thing. Especially the brain. Often if you give it the right stimulation it can heal itself.”
“Was he upset when you were put at the head of the department?”
“Yes, but we both know why they did it. The Huisman name is already on the foundation doors. They wanted my name to help bring in donors,” she explained. “I get the foundation a lot of attention.”
“I find it interesting that she is a…how do you say…rock star in this world and yet she does not tour,” Sasha mused. “She hasn’t left Canada for anything but to go home and visit her family in two years. It’s odd. Most of the doctors around the building travel a lot. There are rumors that she’s afraid of flying. There’s always gossip about her.”
Yes, he was sure there was plenty of gossip about the young rock star of a neurologist.
“So you’re kind of the face of the foundation?” He was interested in why she didn’t travel. From what he could tell before that summer with McDonald, she’d traveled quite a bit. At least four or five times a year, and to fairly exotic locales.
“Not really,” she admitted. “I think that might be one of the reasons they hired me, but I want to work on my research. A few years back I got way too invested in being…I don’t know what the word is…celebrated, maybe. When I was fresh out of med school, I worked on a project that led to a new therapy for stroke patients. It kind of made me a celebrity in the medical world. I got a little lost in that.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.” He knew exactly what she meant, but he was supposed to be a bodyguard, not an operative who’d studied up on her.
“There are a lot of opportunities out there.” There was a hesitance to her tone that let him know she was reluctant to talk about this. They reached the top of the stairs and she moved to the side. “There are conferences and retreats. You get invited to work with various projects. They pay for everything and treat you like a celebrity. It’s easy to let that go to your head if you’re not careful. I lost myself in it for a few years. My ex-husband and I would go all over the world. He would come with me most of the time, and he made a lot of connections that way. When we divorced, I decided it was taking the focus off my own research, so now I’m staying put for a while.”
“She stopped traveling after she left McDonald’s project,” Robert whispered in his ear.
A lot had happened around that time. He thought it went deeper than merely a job going wrong or her husband cheating on her, but he couldn’t push her on it. He needed to figure out how to get her talking about her time with McDonald, but he couldn’t ask her outright. He would get her in bed and figure something out. She was more open when she was naked and sated. He would push her about her past projects and see where it led.
“There she is. The duchess.” Becca turned her face up to him. “You can’t be too close or they won’t come talk to me.”
He nodded and she stepped away, walking to her right. The third floor of Casa Loma served as the Regimental Museum for the Queen’s Own Rifles of Canada. There were portraits and displays all along the hallway that led to the stairs. It hadn’t been difficult to figure out where the “duchess” resided. A quick Internet search had brought up the fact that HRH the Duchess of Cornwall, Camilla Parker Bowles, was the colonel-in-chief for the regiment, and a large portrait of her was displayed at the end of the hall.
Becca moved toward that portrait. She stopped briefly at a couple of the paintings of the military men who’d served the regiment.
“She’s not very good at this,” Sasha said.
Owen looked down the hall and sure enough there was the big guy at the edge of the balcony overlooking the floors below. He was good at “this.” If Owen hadn’t known who he was, he would think the man was nothing more than a tourist taking photos of Casa Loma. He had a professional-looking camera, and he moved around as though trying to get exactly the right shot.
“I’m in place,” Robert said. “And Jax and Ezra are monitoring the security cameras in case Green shows up. Relax, Owen. He won’t nab her here, and we might have a better idea of what he’s planning.”
He wished he could calm down. He would feel better once he’d gotten Becca talking about her time with McDonald. It might slip out where she’d stashed the box McDonald had sent her, or he might find out she’d gotten rid of the damn thing. He actually wouldn’t mind that being the outcome. He wanted to clear her name and make it obvious to everyone that she had nothing to do with McDonald and couldn’t be used for her knowledge because she didn’t have any.
Maybe then he would breathe easy.
He forced himself to move into the rooms that housed the exhibits. He wouldn’t be able to watch her, but he had eyes on her. And there were plenty of weapons. He’d walked into a whole room filled with antique weapons dating back to World War One. They wouldn’t be functional to shoot with, but a couple of them had actual bayonets, and he wouldn’t mind a good skewering if Levi Green was the one being skewered.
Robert was in the adjoining room. He nodded Owen’s way. From where Robert was standing, it appeared he could see out but Becca wouldn’t be able to see in.
She was safe. As safe as he could possibly make her.
“Have we considered the fact that Green might make the same play he did with River?” Robert asked when he got close enough they could speak quietly. It was odd to hear the conversation both with his actual ear and through the earpiece.
“We should be able to hear the conversation. If it starts to go bad, I’ll move in.” He’d thought about this. It had kept him up half the night wondering how he would handle it if she found out he was lying.
“She’s in position, but there’s a woman standing in front of the portrait. Sasha, play it cool. We can take her picture off CCTV. Are those working?” Robert asked quietly.
They were alone in the exhibit room, but a few people were milling about in the hall outside.
“We’ve got a good view.” Jax’s voice came over the line. “I’ll pull stills off the feed of everyone she comes in contact with. It looks like she’s having a conversation with the other tourist.”
They went still because he’d planted a bug on Becca’s handbag so they could hear the meeting.
“I like her suit,” an unfamiliar voice said. “It’s fitting somehow.”
“I was thinking it was a bit dour,” Becca replied.
“I don’t know. It kind of fits with the whole colonel-in-chief thing.” He could practically hear the shrug in the woman’s voice. “The British are an odd lot. Of course where I originally come from the politics are even weirder and much more deadly. Our president is practically a king, so I think it’s good to be Canadian. Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you. I’m a klutz.”
“I’m all right,” Becca said. “No harm done.”
He wanted to see what was going on.
Robert held out a hand. “She’s fine. The other woman stumbled a little. She’s in incredibly high heels.”
“We have another problem,” Jax said. “I didn’t catch him when he came in. I’m sorry. This place is huge and there are a ton of cameras to watch. He’s a tenacious asshole.”
Fuck. Green was here. He’d known it would happen and he still wasn’t ready for it. His first instinct was to haul Becca into his arms and run with her.
“Green?” Robert asked.