Code Name: Nanny (SEAL and Code Name #5)(62)

“We’re checking for prints, but I doubt we’ll find any. It’s a standard purchase anywhere in the country, so no luck sourcing it, either.”

Summer blocked his way. “What did you say you did for a living?”

“I didn’t.” Calmly, Gabe cut around her. “After I load up, we’ll start with the pressure-sensitive plates outside the back windows.”

He hid a smile when he heard Summer mutter “hard-ass” and fall in behind him.



Izzy hated trim-layer chromatography techniques.

The need to use them didn’t often arise, which was a good thing, because they left him in a foul mood. But since he was aware of how much competition there was for use of the expensive equipment at the FBI’s central crime lab, he was happy to lend a hand, especially if he didn’t have to run the tests himself.

Fortunately, a lot of people owed him favors.

He hunched over his computer, muttering. After careful deliberation, he picked up the phone and punched in a string of numbers.

“Forensic documents,” an impatient woman’s voice said.

“Sara, how are you doing?”

There was a brief pause, then a hiss of indrawn breath. “Izzy? Is that you?”

“Afraid so, Doc.”

“So, are you drunk, in trouble, or in need of a favor?”

“So cynical. A man can’t call up a sexy, gorgeous woman on a whim?”

The forensic document expert on the other end of the line gave a smoky laugh. “Oh, a million men could and would. But it’s not your style, Izzy. You’re too decent—and too damned smart—to get a woman’s hopes up for nothing.” She waited a beat. “Aren’t you?”

Izzy wiggled uneasily. He’d forgotten the last time they’d met—and the unexpectedly intimate offer Sara had made to him. “My father taught me that the lady is always right. You can interpret that any way you want. So how many letters do you have after your name now?”

“Only three, but they appear to be adequate. Since I’m in the middle of an ink examination, I’ve got to be quick. That is, unless you want to take me out to dinner so we have more time.”

Izzy laughed. “I wish I could, Sara, but I’m on an assignment.”

“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” She gave a dramatic sigh. “So what is it you need? Watermark evaluation? Infrared ink comparison? Paper analysis?”

“Can I get the whole combo meal?” Izzy asked carefully.

“Everything? Do you have any idea what kind of backlog—” She stopped, took a breath. “Of course you know. Sorry about that. We’re insanely shorthanded around here since several of our people were transferred over to counterterrorism. And I still owe you for setting up our network and connecting us to the federal DNA and fingerprint databases.”

“It was my pleasure, Doc.”

She cleared her throat. “Anything else you need, besides the combo meal?”

In for a penny, in for a pound, Izzy thought. “While you’re at it, how about checking for hair and fiber, along with possible latents? Any impression evidence and static dust lifts would be nice, too.”

“How about I give you the Hope Diamond while I’m at it?” the world-renowned director of the San Mateo County Forensic Document Division snapped.

“No need. Blue was never my color.”

“If I didn’t owe you—”

“You don’t owe me a thing, Sara.” Izzy’s voice was grave. “You’re the best I’ve ever seen, and it was my pleasure to help you get the new lab computers online. I appreciate how busy you are, so it’s no problem if you can’t take the time right now. I’ll find someone else to—”

“Like hell you will. Get me your documents and do it fast. I’ve got two vacation days coming and I’ll cancel my trip to Martinique.”

“I couldn’t possibly let you—”

“A joke, okay? All I had planned was three George Clooney videos and some artery-clogging popcorn. Working for you will be a whole lot healthier.”

Izzy smiled. “Now I owe you, Sara. It’s a good thing I happen to have a source for that new Swiss electron microscope you’ve been lusting after.”

She gave a yelp of pure delight. “You mean it? You wouldn’t toy with me about a thing like that, would you?”

“Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout, but we’ll overlook that for now. Get me your evidence and make sure it’s uncontaminated. And just for the record,” she added dryly, “the electron microscope isn’t the only thing I’ve been lusting after.”

Before Izzy could think of a suitable answer, she hung up on him.





[page]chapter 21

Where’s Liberace? I don’t see his cage.” Frantic, Sophy scrambled up the aisle of the small plane, looking for her mother.

“He’s fine, honey.” Cara smoothed her hair, looking frazzled. “He’s right in his cage in the back.”

“You’re sure?”

“Tate put him there personally.”

“Oh.” Sophy took a slow breath. “Uncle Tate is careful. He wouldn’t forget Liberace.”