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Case muttered a curse. If the Paladin League had sent someone to look for the treasure, that meant they believed it could be found. He didn’t like it, and he hated that Vargas was interested. How the hell had he discovered why Nyx was down here?
“How’d Señor Vargas hear about the treasure?” he asked.
Nyx’s hands tightened at his waist and then she shrugged. “I don’t know, but others are looking for it. A Norwegian treasure hunter for one, although he’s out of the picture now. Given that a piece from the cache went up for auction not too long ago, it’s likely there are others. The present-day worth is estimated at around one billion US dollars”
His blood ran cold. If Vargas thought Nyx could get the treasure for him, he wouldn’t let her go. And nothing Case did or said would change his mind.
Chapter 12
Archer sat at the desk in his command center, the second office hidden behind the bookcases in his show office. While his public space at Paladin League headquarters was all light colors, his second office suited him better. The desk was dark wood, not space-age shaped white metal, the floor was wood, not marble, and he had computers and monitors readily available.
Here, he could spread files out across his desk and work.
Only one other person knew of this office. His assistant. Ms. Pressley had come over with him from ARC, and he trusted her as much as he trusted anyone.
There were times he missed the Agency for Reconnaissance and Covert-ops. Like today. If he were still with ARC, Archer would be able to pick up the phone and request all the intel available on the mysterious Fuentes.
The limitations at the Paladin League were real, but Archer preferred his current position to his former. There were fewer life-and-death situations.
That said, it was Sunday afternoon, and he was at the office. Not his ideal way to end the weekend.
The notepad in front of him had everything he knew about the ghost who went by Fuentes. The man sought the Lost Treasure of Trujillo, but no one had seen him. None of Archer’s operatives could provide an age or a description of the man’s appearance. They weren’t even able to pin down if he was Puerto Jardinese.
He didn’t like having so little information. It didn’t allow him to maneuver or to head off trouble before it could strike at his employees. Archer had three on assignment in Puerto Jardin now, and there’d already been an incident. He didn’t want another.
Not when there was only one he believed could handle herself in a high-stakes situation.
Nyx Templeton. Her background and her skillset would make her an asset to his organization. Her education, though, made him question changing her status from contractor to full-time employee. Geoarchaeology was something he only needed a few times a year. She did have archaeology knowledge, but would she be happy limited to that more often than not?
With a slight shrug, he returned to his current complication. Nyx could wait.
Fuentes was an enigma, a shadow. A potential threat. Archer picked up his pen and circled Fuentes twice.
He needed answers before the man learned about Francesca, Nyx, and Ellis.
It might be time to send in one of his operatives, someone who wasn’t primarily a historian or archaeologist.
Archer considered his options, made a decision, and reached for the phone atop his desk. Bothering his assistant at home on a Sunday would earn him a reprimand when she returned to the office, but he did it anyway. When she answered, he said, “Ms. Pressley, set up a meeting with Iona Desmond for tomorrow morning, please.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it,” she said and disconnected.
Slowly, Archer returned the phone to its cradle. From the time the Paladin League purchased the brooch at auction, he’d known there would be others aware that it was part of the missing treasure. Leaving his trio in Trujillo was a risk, but he wasn’t ready to recall them. Not yet. Francesca was his best archivist. Ellis his best art historian. Nyx his only geoarchaeologist.
If what was reported to have been part of the Lost Treasure was recovered, the cultural significance would be immense. The Spanish viceroy had looted the country of Puerto Jardin, taking anything of value, whether it be church artwork or indigenous figurines made from gold.
The emergency line rang. “Yes?”
“Archer, it’s Frankie. Nyx never returned to the hotel. Have you heard from her?”
“No, she hasn’t called.”
“She should have been here hours ago,” Francesca said.
In the background, Archer heard Ellis echo her. “Hours!”
He turned to one of his computers, tapped a few commands, and waited for the screen to open. Archer zeroed in on Trujillo, Puerto Jardin. Two Paladin League phones happily pinged. He searched for the third, scrolling in and out.
He couldn’t locate it. His stomach tightened. Where was Nyx?