Gina nodded. “Is there anything that Mira left behind that might have the information? A computer, a thumb drive, anything?”
“She had a computer, but it belonged to her company and they confiscated it immediately. A guy actually went through her apartment looking for any confidential material before they would even let me in.” Maren dropped her head. “At the time, I didn’t know. I was in shock, I suddenly had a little girl to look after. I figured it was probably standard for someone with a security job like hers to have someone go through and remove things.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Elissa said. “Voss took total advantage of the situation to try and look for her intel.”
“He obviously found nothing,” Gina said. “So, that means she was storing it off-site. Did she rent a storage locker or a safe-deposit anywhere?”
“Not that I ever found when I was going through and paying her bills.”
Gina smiled almost to herself. “Did she leave you any designer purses?”
“No…why?”
“Sorry.” Gina waved off her own question. “I was hoping lightning would strike twice. Ask April about it sometime.” She paced. “So, no storage units, no safe-deposit boxes, she lived in an apartment, so probably no false walls or floors.” She sighed. “At least I hope not. It would take time to get one of my old contacts into her place to tear up the place.”
“You could do that?” Maren asked.
“I could. So, what belongings of hers do you still have?”
“Um. Not much, honestly. I didn’t need her furniture. I have photo albums from when we were kids. A couple sweaters our grandma knitted for her. I have—had some of her jewelry until whoever ransacked my house took it.” She touched the locket around her neck. “But they didn’t get this.”
Gina stopped pacing and held out her hand. “May I see it?”
“You think there’s a secret compartment in my locket?” She started to unhook it.
“I’ve seen it before. Hell, I’vedoneit before.” She took a minute to thoroughly examine the locket before she gave it back to Maren. “Nothing. Is there anything else, anything that would have been special to your sister? Anything shespecificallyleft to you in her will?”
“No, I…Oh.”
Gina’s smile lit her face. “I like that ‘oh.’ What is it?”
“It’s kind of a weird thing, but maybe not, since I now apparently live in an espionage novel and anything is possible.”She looked at Colin. “The Blue Fairy Book. It was our favorite book when we were kids. When we moved out of the house, we flipped a coin to see who got to keep it and she won. I didn’t speak to her for three days.”
“Show me this book.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Maren,Colin, and Gina—along with Fleur—went straight to the safehouse while Mac went to pick up Juni.
“Okay, where’s the book?” Gina asked her.
“Hang on, I’ll get it.” Maren went into Juni’s room. The book was sitting on the bedside table. Her fingers trembled as she picked it up. She held it in her hands and studied the worn cover for a moment, remembering all the time she and Mira had spent together in the hammock— reading the book, talking, gossiping, trusting each other with secrets—before returning to the front room.
“Here you go.” She handed the book to Gina.
Gina sat down at the kitchen table with the Blue Fairy book, Fleur settled at her feet. Colin and Maren sat at the table with her. Colin held her hand in support. Maren watched Gina handle it the way she handled everything—methodically, without hurry, her golden eyes moving over everything before her hands followed.
She started with the cover. Gina ran her thumb along the spine, pressing gently at intervals. She checked the inside front board, then the back, the hinges where the cover met the pages.She ran her hands over the endpapers carefully, checking for anything beneath them.
“Pages,” Gina said, mostly to herself. She began going through them methodically, holding each one up briefly toward the window light.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for impressions, invisible ink, anything pressed into the paper that wouldn’t be visible straight on.” Gina went through every page. It took a while. The book was old and thick and had been read half to pieces by two generations of Walsh girls.
“Anything?”
“Nothing.”
