As the door clicked shut behind Adele, she stepped further into Agent Grant’s office. If Ms. Jayne had seen fit to come herself, something had come up indeed.
Agent Grant cleared her throat behind the desk. Adele’s supervisor brushed a hand through her medium-length hair and pressed her lips into a severe expression. She was only a few years older than Adele, but had premature wrinkles around her mouth and the corners of her eyes. Lee Grant had been named after the two generals from the Civil War, and was well-known among the San Francisco field office for her forays out of the building and onto crime scenes whenever she had the opportunity or excuse to stretch her legs. Secretly, Adele suspected that Agent Grant missed the field work. And, though she’d never say it, Adele believed Grant’s skills were wasted behind a desk.
“Sharp,” said Agent Grant, nodding across her desk.
“Agent Sharp,” Ms. Jayne said, nodding with a curt bob of her perfectly trimmed hair.
“Ms. Jayne,” Adele said, hesitating. She’d never been given a first name. She nodded toward Grant as well. “How can I be of assistance?”
She waited, letting the silence linger between them as the commanding agents glanced at each other. Agent Grant broke the silence. “We have a… delicate predicament.”
Ms. Jayne’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly behind her glasses. A brief crack in her proper, prim facade, but Adele caught it before it slipped away behind bright eyes and a placid expression.
“Delicate?” said Adele. “Well, anything to get me away from that paperwork…” She chuckled weakly, but when the mirth wasn’t reciprocated, she fell quiet again.
“The locals,” Ms. Jayne began, in her normal crisp, precise tones, “believe it was a brown bear attack.”
Adele tried another smile, and once again abandoned the half-hearted attempt to lighten the atmosphere. “Didn’t know there were any brown bears in San Francisco,” she said.
Agent Grant shook her head. “The Alps.”
“The… the Alps?”
“An extensive mountain range, stretching across eight countries in Europe,” said Agent Grant in manner of explanation.
“Oh, er, well, no—yes, I mean. I know what they are. So there’s a case in the Alps?”
Adele thought about Angus’s texts. She thought about her desire to set down roots. But at the same time, a quiet, prickling chill of excitement probed up her spine. This time, she fought to suppress the smile threatening to curl her lips.
“Yes,” said Agent Grant. “As I mentioned, locals think it was a bear attack. A wealthy Italian couple vacationing at a ski resort. Both of them accomplished cross-country skiers. Both of them found dead, mauled.”
Adele nodded once. “But not a bear?”
Grant glanced to the third woman in the room. Ms. Jayne kept her hands folded over her knee and peered from behind her spectacles up at Adele. “The local search and rescue mentioned the possibility of a brown bear to the media. They’ve been running with it.”
Adele nodded. Ms. Jayne’s English, as always, was perfect, though clipped and sterile. The Interpol correspondent continued. “We are currently allowing the narrative to play. For now.”
“But you know it wasn’t a bear?” Adele hesitated. “Why the pretense?”
“It is not a pretense,” said Ms. Jayne. Again, her eyes narrowed, just barely, behind her glasses, and again the gesture was gone before the average person might spot it. Adele, on the other hand, spent a good deal of time paying attention to details. Ms. Jayne’s irritation wasn’t lost on her. But she kept her peace, allowing the older woman to continue. “A delicate situation,” she said, repeating the words Grant had used. “A wealthy Italian couple dies in Germany. And given the couple’s political connections back in Italy, well… you can understand if Interpol would like to handle this with care, to the satisfaction of all parties involved.”
“I’m… I’m confused,” said Adele, slowly tracing her finger along the edge of Grant’s desk. She kept her eyes downturned, listening but no longer watching, following the thin trail of dust dislodged from the underside of the table. “You said this has to do with the Alps. Not just one resort, not just one mountain. But the range of mountains… Am I right?”
Ms. Jayne nodded. “Yes. Astute. The Italians weren’t the only incident. Another couple—Swiss—also went missing. A couple hundred miles away. A week ago—we still haven’t found them.”
“Let me guess, also in the Alps?”
“Just so. The French Alps, to be exact.”
Adele resisted the urge to heave a sigh, doing her best to keep her expression and breathing neutral. “I see… And you’re here in person because…?”
Ms. Jayne uncrossed her legs and delicately placed both feet on the floor, before leaning forward and peering up at Adele. “The Italian couple and the Swiss couple show no connections, besides where they went missing—and even then, they were separated by nearly two hundred miles. And yet…”
“Let me guess; the Swiss family is also wealthy and important?” Adele said.
Ms. Jayne bobbed her head. “It’s important we handle this carefully. Already there are too many cooks in the kitchen. We’d like to avoid spoiling the broth entirely.”
“I’m guessing you’re not here to borrow a recipe, though.”
Agent Grant snorted softly and Adele looked up, meeting her supervisor’s eye. “They’re looking for another cook,” Grant said with a nod toward Ms. Jayne.
This time, Adele did sigh, though she tried to disguise it as a yawn, but halfway through, decided this might seem more inappropriate, and covered by quickly asking, “So you want me in the Alps to investigate an unconnected missing persons case where the culprit might have simply been frostbite or a famished grizzly?”
Ms. Jayne got slowly to her feet, adjusting her tailored suit. “Brown bears. And we have strong reason to believe the killings had nothing to do with wildlife. I wouldn’t have come if this wasn’t important. Well, Ms. Sharp—can we count on your aid?”
Adele quirked an eyebrow at Agent Grant, who grunted and nodded. “Not my say-so. Higher-ups already gave the nod. Your call, Adele.”
There was something significant in her supervising agent’s gaze as she waited, watching the younger woman. Adele looked back, but then glanced away. Another case, more traveling. She would be well within her rights to refuse…
And what?
Go back to paperwork? To Angus? To safety.
Was that really so bad?
“Please,” said Ms. Jayne. And for the first time, Adele detected a note of unease in the woman’s voice. Was this case personal to the Interpol correspondent? Why the emotion?
She hesitated, but then looked directly at Agent Grant. “As long as you get someone else to complete the paperwork, I’m in.”
Grant’s eyes narrowed, and unlike Ms. Jayne, she made no effort to conceal her annoyance. But at last, it was her turn to sigh and she waved a hand airily toward the door. “Your wish is my command. Besides, your flight is already booked.”
CHAPTER FOUR