Free The Loch Ness Legacy by Boyd Morrison Page B

wasn’t surprised by it any more. He wanted to spare her that kind of cynicism.
    He smiled and changed the subject. “Listen. Grant and I will meet you for lunch at noon. Then afterward I can take you on the sightseeing flight I promised.”
    “Are you still up for that with your arm and all?”
    “I could fly that plane with two fingers. Besides, it’s a beautiful day for it.”
    She smiled, but her eyes still held worry. “Sounds great.”
    “And be careful on the walk over to the Market. There can be some sketchy people on Third Avenue.”
    “If someone messes with me, I can scream with the best of them.”
    She walked over to get her purse on Miles’ desk. Tyler noticed her whisper something to Grant, who smiled weakly at the comment and avoided her gaze as she waved and left.
    “What’d she say?” Tyler asked when she was gone.
    “Just that I don’t stink any more.”
    Tyler sniffed and smiled. “She’s right. You’re a veritable flower.”
    “Okay, gentlemen,” Miles said as he wheeled himself over to his desk and lowered the chair to a sitting position. “Now would you mind telling me what happened in California? My PR gal has been working overtime because of you two during the last week.”
    Tyler filled him in on the helicopter crash near the Pleasant Valley prison, then Grant brought him up to speed on the report from France.
    When Miles saw the swastika, he scowled and said, “Nazis? Again? I thought we were done with those guys seventy years ago.”
    “When I saw the report, I asked Aiden to do a little online research to look for Altwaffe,” Grant said. Aiden MacKenna was Gordian’s top computer expert and data-mining genius. “He came up empty on the term, but he sure found a ton on Nazis today. It seems that the neo-Nazi movement has been growing in Europe in recent years, except their hatred is now focused on immigrants from Muslim countries and Africa. Don’t get me wrong. They still hate the Jews, but guys that look like me are scaring them even more these days.”
    “Yeah, but you’re scary for a whole different reason,” Tyler said.
    “You mean my amazing physique?”
    “The smell. Apparently it’s strong enough to knock down a moose.”
    “That’s because I ooze testosterone,” Grant shot back and then immediately looked like he regretted it.
    Miles’ intercom buzzed. He picked up the phone, listened for a moment, and said, “Bring her up.”
    Once he put the phone back down, he looked at Tyler and Grant. “That’s Agent Harris. Do you have any other homoerotic banter you’d like to get out of the way before she comes in here?”
    Grant feigned shock and cranked a thumb at Tyler. “Please. You think I spend two hours a day at the gym so he’ll notice?”
    Tyler opened his mouth with a smartass retort, but thought better of it. “I’ll save that one for later.”
    “Good idea,” Miles replied.
    Harris entered with a grim expression. Her eyes flicked to Grant first, as if she were inspecting him. She nodded to Grant and Tyler, then shook Miles’ hand.
    “Dr. Benson, thanks for letting me come by on such short notice.”
    “Not at all. Please have a seat.”
    He wheeled around and joined them in the office’s sitting area.
    “You told Tyler this had to do with the Paris incident?”
    She nodded and glanced at Grant again. Tyler sensed her unease, but he had no idea what the problem was.
    “Yes, sir,” Harris said. “I wanted to come to you as soon as I could. This isn’t an official call. I thought since I owed Tyler for the incident in Miami—well, that you deserved to hear it now.”
    “Hear what?” Tyler asked. Now he was more than a little concerned. “Is this about Brielle Cohen?”
    “What? Oh, no. Nothing to do with her. Well, I suppose in a way. It’s about the guests at the party.”
    “What about them?”
    “I got the briefing this morning. They informed me because of my connection to Carl Zim’s brother, in case I learned anything