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“Truthfully, I don’t know.” Her gaze shifted to the folder of intel on his lap. “You think all of that’s real, or just another of Iris’s chess moves?”
“What would be the point of lying at this point?”
“To throw us off. Send us in the wrong direction.”
Yes, even in death, Iris could be a dangerous, vindictive woman. Who knew what her agenda was? However, they would dig deep into the information she’d provided and go from there. If it was bogus, then they had wasted time. If it was for real, the intel was a godsend—and something others would kill to get.
Always hyperalert, Hawke was even more so now as he glanced around the cabin of the plane. They were seated in first class, which gave them some privacy, but he wasn’t going to take even that for granted. They knew for certain that the Wren Project organization was huge. Just how large was anyone’s guess. Anyone, anywhere, at any time, could be working for them.
“Why do you think she had a letter specifically for me?”
“You’re her daughter.”
“No, I was her protégée. Her lab rat. An experiment that went horribly wrong, to her way of thinking.”
“Because you didn’t comply. You have a mind of your own and a goodness inside you that she could never comprehend or understand.”
Iris Gates loved to mess with people’s minds, and she had done her very best to do that to her daughter. Fortunately, Olivia was much too strong to allow her mother’s influence to control her. Hawke had already read Iris’s final words to Olivia, but he took the letter from her hand and reviewed it again to ensure he hadn’t missed something.
Olivia,
If you’re reading this, then I am gone. I won’t bother trying to give you sage advice or words of wisdom. You would ignore both. Let’s face it, we’re opposites in every way that counts.
Letting you go to America was our biggest mistake. You were there to gather intel, not to desert your heritage. Marrying Nicholas was your worst mistake. I wasn’t surprised it didn’t last.
We didn’t bring you into this world to do as you please—you were born for a purpose, one you’ll never achieve. That’s not to say I regret your existence. As your caretakers, Glen and I learned much from you. We were harsh with you in many ways. We prepared you for the life you were intended to lead. Sadly, that didn’t happen.
I won’t end this on a maudlin or sentimental note. I am neither of those things. However, I will say this, and take it as you may: You’ve achieved something, Olivia. Own it. Believe in it. Live it. But guard your soft heart, because that’s where the vultures feast.
I
“Is there a message in there that I’m missing?” Olivia asked. “Or is this just another one of Iris’s mind games?”
“Actually, I think it’s a mother saying goodbye to her daughter.”
She swallowed hard, and he knew that despite her effort not to be, she had been moved by Iris’s words. Which was sad in its own way, because they weren’t particularly kind or helpful.
Hoping to make her smile, he said wryly, “Apparently, Iris was not my biggest fan.”
“What? That’s what you got from ‘worst mistake ever’?” Though she didn’t smile, her eyes sparkled with amusement. “But it was so obscure and indirect. However did you crack that code?”
He loved her sass. She was hurting but oh-so-strong. “Okay, smartass. I—”
His retort was interrupted by a flight attendant’s instructions for their upcoming landing. She had a slight accent, and Hawke said, “Where do you think she’s from?”
Olivia’s ear for accents and languages had never failed to impress him. Hawke used to quiz her just to see if he could find one she couldn’t identify.
“Ontario.”
“Seriously?”
“Betcha five.”
As the attendant started past them, Hawke said to her, “You have a slight accent. Mind if I ask where you’re from?”
The woman’s eyes went wide for a second before she answered with a brilliant smile. “Omaha, Nebraska.”
Delighted that Olivia had finally been stumped, he glanced at her, surprised by her narrowed eyes. Still, she smiled and shrugged, saying, “My mistake.”