Homeport

three bouncing strokes, then: “How’s the knee? Andrew told me the guy who mugged you tossed you around.”
    “Tossed you around?” Elise looked over quickly. “We didn’t know you were hurt.”
    “Just shaken up. It’s all right. I’m fine.”
    “He held a knife to her throat,” Carter announced.
    “A knife.” Elise put a hand to her own throat. “That’s horrible. It’s—”
    “It’s all right,” Miranda said again. “He just wanted money.” She turned, meeting her mother’s eyes. “And I think he’s cost us enough valuable time.”
    For a moment Elizabeth said nothing. There was challenge in Miranda’s gaze, and she decided the time for sympathy had passed.
    “Then I’ll let Elise set you up. Your ID and security cards are in here.” Elizabeth handed Miranda an envelope. “Elise should be able to handle any of your questions or needs. Or you can contact me.” She glanced at the slim watch on her wrist. “I have another meeting shortly, so I’ll let you get started. I hope to have a preliminary report by end of day.”
    “You will,” Miranda murmured as her mother walked away.
    “She doesn’t waste time.” With another smile, Elise gestured. “I’m so sorry you had to go through such a terrible ordeal, but the work here should help you keep it off your mind. I have an office set up for you. The Fiesole Bronze is a top priority. You’re authorized to pick your team from any of the A security staff.”
    “Miranda!” There was a wealth of pleasure in the word, and it was delivered with the heavy and exotic tones of Italy. Miranda felt herself smiling even before she turned and had her hands taken and lavishly kissed.
    “Giovanni. You don’t change.” Indeed, the chemistry technician was as outrageously handsome as Miranda remembered. Dark and sleek, with eyes like melted chocolate and a smile that radiated charm. He stood an inch or so below her and still managed to make her feel feminine and tiny. He wore his glossy black hair in a ponytail—an affectation Elizabeth permitted only because besides being beautiful to look at, Giovanni Beredonno was a genius.
    “But you change, bella donna . You’re even more lovely. But what is this about being hurt?” He fluttered his fingers over her face.
    “It’s nothing, just a memory.”
    “Do you want me to go break someone in half for you?” He kissed her gently, one cheek, then the other.
    “Can I get back to you on that?”
    “Giovanni, Miranda has work.”
    “Yes, yes.” He brushed off Elise’s stiff and disapproving words with a careless gesture—another reason for Miranda to smile. “I know all about it. A big project, very hush-hush.” He wiggled his expressive eyebrows. “When the direttrice sends to America for an expert, it is no small thing. So, bellissima, can you use me?”
    “You’re first on my list.”
    He tucked her hand through his arm, ignoring the tightening of Elise’s lips. “When do we start?”
    “Today,” Miranda told him as Elise gestured toward a doorway. “I’ll want tests run on the corrosion layers and the metal right away.”
    “I think Richard Hawthorne would be helpful to you.” Elise tapped the shoulder of a man hunkered over the keyboard on a computer.
    “Dr. Hawthorne.” Miranda watched the balding man blink owlishly through his glasses, then fumble them off. There was something vaguely familiar about him, and she struggled to place him.
    “Dr. Jones.” He gave her a shy smile that added appeal to his face. His chin was short, his eyes a distracted and pale blue, but the smile was sweet as a boy’s. “It’s nice to see you again. We’re, ah, happy to have you here. I read your paper on early Florentine humanism. It was quite brilliant.”
    “Thank you.” Oh, yes, she remembered. He’d done a stint at the Institute a few years earlier. After a moment’s hesitation, which Miranda knew came only because Elise had recommended him, she relented. “Elise has an office for me. Could you join us for a moment? I’d like to show you what I have.”
    “I’d be delighted.” He fumbled with his glasses again, hit a series of keys that saved his work.
    “It’s not a large space.” Elise began with an apology as she ushered Miranda through a door. “I’ve set it up with what I thought you’d need. Of course you can requisition anything you like.”
    Miranda took a quick scan. The computer station appeared efficient and neat. A wide white counter held microscopes,