Hatched

Chapter Twenty-Six

July 1st, 2021

2000 hours

Nothing of importance happened for nearly an hour, until an unlikely couple stopped near the table. Robyn picked up snippets of a very heated conversation and decided to move closer. Chancing a glance, she recognized the mousy doctor she'd spied sneaking about the hallway in the museum, talking to Lynne in loud, distraught whispers.

Robyn shifted her body, attempting to move closer. She may not be an agent, but she knew enough to know that didn't sit right. The fact that a scientist was on the rig at all drew her suspicions. Her ears were alert from her position and she caught a few words, but the distance was still too great for anything to be heard over the chorus of 'Copacabana'. Robyn let out a snort at the choice in music before shaking her head resolutely.

I have to get closer, she thought. What would Quinn do?

Her mind whirred for a few seconds, tossing about scenarios, each as unlikely as the one preceding it, before she caught an idea. A passerby refreshing his champagne glass sparked the thought. She would move closer and pretend to need a drink or appetizer.

Quinn would be proud. Immediately after thinking this she scolded herself for caring what the debonair heartthrob would think. Quinn Jones was just a very good representation of what happened when good genes, quick wit and government training were combined. Robyn hated to admit it seemed to have done well for him: enter one sexy, self-assured male with, understandably, highly narcissistic tendencies.

Loud arguments drew her out of her funk and she jumped to attention. She couldn't mess it up; it seemed everyone was counting on her.

Robyn started tentatively toward the end of the table where the two stood. A few steps in, a sudden realization struck her: the scientist had seen her. What if he recognized her?

Indecisiveness clouded her mind and she quickly busied herself with the platter in front of her to cover up her strange, jerky movements. Perhaps he would realize he'd seen her before, or maybe it had been dark enough in the hall that he hadn't. Perhaps he never got a good look at what she looked like in that gloom; but then, she remembered him vividly.

Robyn's heart hammered in her chest as she weighed the odds. She knew precious seconds were ticking by. Every word spoken between to two could prove vital to Quinn's investigation.

She glanced sideways again at the unlikely couple and shoved whatever she had picked up from the table into her mouth. The moment the salty, pebbly consistency touched her tongue she nearly gagged: caviar. She hated caviar. It was her opinion that, regardless of her occupation, fish eggs were not meant for human consumption.

Robyn managed to swallow the disgusting mouthful she'd taken and screwed up her courage. She made her way leisurely down the spread, pretending to be interested in the food. Stopping at the plate nearest Lynne, she reached over and grabbed a glass of wine, casting a smile at her as she did.

"Beautiful ball." She offered, making small talk in an attempt to blend in.

"Yes, quite." Lynne responded, tone emotionless. Her body language reeked of irritability, and the glare she cast at the quivering man beside her left no doubt in anyone's mind what irked her.

The man eyed Robyn for a second and her breath caught. Fear that he would place her wound its way around her heart and she struggled to keep her breathing steady.

"Yes, it is." He finally spoke, eyes slowly leaving her and focusing on Lynne's demanding presence.

Robyn smiled again and turned, intending to mock a trip and fall, but instead her heel caught on the table cloth and she really stumbled, spilling her beverage down the skirt of her dress.