Iris Johansen - Eight Days To Live

“Does the Oxford study mention any historical information about another potter’s field being north of Jerusalem?”

She shook her head. “But that doesn’t mean it didn’t exist. For Pete’s sake, it was almost two thousand years ago.” She gazed down at the map. “We have a chance. Soil content doesn’t change that much unless there’s some gigantic natural event like an ice age. Will you call Oxford Mideast Studies and see if you can find out if that clay content could have been heavy enough to be a potter’s field?” She was flipping through other maps and superimposing them. “I’d do it, but I need to get as much information as I can about the area before we get airborne and I lose the Net.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” He turned away and pulled out his phone.

It could be the field.

Excitement was slowly taking hold as she gazed down at the map. Keep it under control. It’s a long shot, she said to herself.

Long shots weren’t based on scientific maps and university studies.

She was lying to herself. She wanted it too much.

The plane was taxiing down the runway.

One more map…

“Bingo,” Caleb said as he hung up the phone. “That area definitely had the potential for heavy clay content in biblical times. And they did a current day scan two years ago, and the potential still exists. Very high iron content.” He smiled. “Which means we still have a chance that your potter’s field isn’t under a freeway.”

“No.” She was looking down at the map she’d just superimposed on the ancient map. It wasn’t a thematic but a political map. Her forefinger touched the field. Did she feel the slightest tingle? Imagination. “I think its farmland. In Palestinian territory.”

Tel Aviv, Israel

“I DO BELIEVE WE’RE BEING welcomed,” Jock murmured as he gazed out of the window of the jet as it taxied toward the private hangars at the far end of the runway.

A sleek black car was parked at the hangar, and a slender, dark-skinned man in a navy blue suit was getting out of the car.

“Looks like CIA issue to me,” Caleb said. He got to his feet as the jet came to a halt. “But let me go ahead and make sure. Stay in the plane until I tell you to come.”

Jane nodded as she unbuckled her seat belt. She was stiff from sitting for so many hours but eager to get out and get going.

The man to whom Caleb was talking did not look like a threat. He reminded her of some kind of diplomatic bureaucrat.

“Let’s go,” Jock said, as Caleb turned and waved to them.

“Jane, Gavin, this is Bill Gillem,” Caleb said, as they approached. “Venable asked him to take us to the general location where you think the field is located.”

Gillem shrugged. “ ‘General’ is right. I think you’re barking up the wrong tree. It’s only a barren piece of land surrounded by farmland.”

“Barren?” Jane asked. “Because there’s too much clay in the soil?”

“Maybe. But it hasn’t been used to extract clay since the 1930s. There was some bullshit rumor about the place being cursed. The Palestinians tried to reclaim it and use it as farmland, but it didn’t work out.”

“Surrounded by farmland,” Jock repeated. “No hills or plateaus where there could be a cave? It showed something on the topographical map on the Net.”

“Not much. Maybe a few shallow hills on the edge of the field. You’ll have to check that out for yourself.” He opened the back door of the car. “If you want to go, let’s get on the road. I’ve called in all kinds of favors with the guards at the checkpoints, but it’s a whole new ball game after the shifts change. We’ve got three hours to get in and get out.”

“Then go back and get us more time. Bribe them.”

“What are you talking about? This is Israel. These people have seen their friends blown up by suicide bombers. They wouldn’t risk taking a bribe. If they didn’t trust me, you’d be shit out of luck.” He shook his head. “And I’m not ruining contacts I’ve spent ten years in this country building because you want to take your time. It’s going to be rough enough to have you tramping over that field without getting shot. There are rumors that several farmhouses near the field are being used by drug dealers who furnish money to the PLO.”

“What if that three hours isn’t enough?” Jane got into the car, followed by Caleb. Jock got into the passenger seat. “What do we do then?”

“You’re on your own. Venable only gave me orders to get you in and out in a timely manner. Three hours is plenty of time considering that there’s nothing much to see.” He got into the driver’s seat. “I brought that.38 Special and some additional firepower, your backpack, and that equipment you requested. They’re all in the trunk. I don’t know what you’re searching for, but I think you’re going to come up with zilch.”

“Very negative,” Caleb murmured to Jane as Gillem started the car and drove away from the hangar. “Do you want me to adjust his attitude?”

“No. It sounds as if this trip is damn risky. He has a right to his feelings.”

“As long as they don’t get in the way.” His glance shifted out the window to the lights of Tel Aviv. “I’ll check back when we reach the field.”

Or he’ll use his own judgment and do as he pleases, Jane thought.

He glanced at her and smiled. “Probably,” he said as if reading her thoughts. “But I did want to involve you in the decision.”

“As long as I don’t get in the way,” she paraphrased his own words.

“Sometimes there isn’t time to consult and discuss.”

“There may not be any urgency connected to this trip at all. Maybe Gillem is right, and this is a wild-goose chase.”

“It could be. But it’s worth a shot. Don’t let him bring you down.”

“He’s not. I’m just trying not to get my hopes up.” But that wasn’t going to happen. She was charged with excitement. That breathless moment on the plane when she’d seen that tiny square superimposed on the computer map was still with her. She wanted to be there, see for herself. “It’s hard to be cool and analytical when I want to move, to fly.”

“Cool, you’re not,” he said. “I’ve never seen you anything but intense and charged with emotion even when you’re trying to hide it. And I like the idea of your flying.” He added softly, “So screw anyone who wants to keep you grounded.”

She felt warmth surge through her. She had to tear her gaze away from his. She said lightly, “That’s what I say. Screw them.”

MacDuff’s Run

“WILL THERE BE ANYTHING ELSE?” Mrs. Dalbrey asked as she set the tray down on the table in Eve’s room. “It’s soup and sandwiches as you asked. I made lemon pudding for a sweet. Would you like me to take off the covers and set the table?”

“No, Ms. Alsouk will be here any moment.” Eve closed her suitcase and fastened it. “I’ll do it then. Thank you, Mrs. Dalbrey.”

“You’re very welcome.” The housekeeper hesitated. “I’ll be back to pick up the tray when you call me. If that will suit you.”

Eve smiled. “That will be fine.”

Mrs. Dalbrey still stood at the door. “I understand you’re leaving us. I want to say that I’ve enjoyed serving you, Ms. Duncan.” She paused. “I hope all goes well with you. Oh, I do hope that.” She turned, and her voice was muffled as she went out the door. “Good luck and God bless.”

“Thank you. You’ve been very-” But the housekeeper was gone.

Eve frowned, puzzled. The woman had always been pleasant, but they hadn’t done more than exchange a few words in the time she’d been here. Yet those last words had been tinged with emotion. It struck her as odd that-