****
Baylor picked up the phone in his expensive Dallas hotel suite. He’d been waiting all day for this phone call and he didn’t like waiting. Not at all. “Yes?”
“The tracking device is in her purse,” Caldwell said.
“Good. Any problems?”
“Nah. I just was really clumsy and overturned it—”
“I meant, have you been able to locate the document?” Sometimes even his best men seemed daft. Baylor hated not being able to get directly involved himself, but with his eye patch he was too memorable if there were trouble.
“Oh.” Caldwell hesitated. “I haven’t seen it. But Ramsey is here and he spent the entire morning with the girl in the library.”
Baylor growled in frustration. That damn Templar had been a thorn in his side for centuries, fouling up some of his best evil intentions. He often wondered just what gods had created another immortal. In his time, Ramsey had not been on Avalon.
“Do you suppose,” he asked sarcastically, “thattheymay have been reading the manuscript in there?”
“No doubt,” Caldwell replied somewhat defensively, “but my host—who’s crazy as a loon, if you ask me—stayed with me the whole morning, jabbering on about his stupid swords. I had to actually take notes.”
“Don’t underestimate Mr. Smith,” Baylor said softly. “He’s a wealthy man and didn’t get there by being stupid.”
“No, sir.” Caldwell said promptly. “I did try to get into the library after lunch, but it was locked. I didn’t think it would be good to pick it.”
Baylor sighed. “And why not? It’s one of the things you do, isn’t it?”
“True. But there’s a copy of the document that may be available.”
“Oh?” Baylor reached for his brandy snifter and swirled the contents and sniffed. “Where is it?”
“Some old professor named MacDonald has it. I heard the girl mention it when she cut off Smith. I’ll just put a tail on her when she goes to get it.”
“You do that,” Baylor said, “and soon. If the Templar has already read it, that puts him ahead of us in this race.”
“No problem.”
“And one more thing. Make sure the tail cleans up. I hate messes.”
“Understood.”
Baylor hung up the phone and poured another brandy. “This time, I will win, Templar. Iwillwin.”
****
It was near midafternoon by the time Sara turned in to Professor MacDonald’s driveway. Robert met her at the door.
“He’s in the library, waiting for you.”
The professor’s faded blue eyes were almost glowing. “Sit, dear!” he said excitedly. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed reading this document. It really is a confirmation of hope. If I never read another important thing, this will have been enough.”
Sara sat down on the sofa near his wheelchair. “So what can you tell me?”
“Well, much of it is written like a travel diary,” the professor began, “but I got the feeling that somehow the writer was trying to encrypt some other message.”
Sara told him about the verse that Lucas had dug out of it. The old man nodded.
“Yes, I noticed that too. But there’s more, I think.”
“More?” She hadn’t had a chance to talk to Lucas alone after lunch, since Mr. Smith had decided to monopolize both of his guests’ time. It had, at least, given her the opportunity to return the manuscript to the safe. “Tell me!”
