Chapter 8

Whatever was going on? I placed my napkin beside my plate, rose, and followed Father out of the room. His spine was stiff and straight, and I worried my lower lip.

“What did you wish to say, Father?” I lingered in the doorway, uncertain how long this conversation would last.

“I have a favor to request of you.” He gestured toward the seat on the opposite side of his desk.

“Of course.” I entered and sat down.

He opened a box of cigars, selected one, and pushed the box toward me.

“No, thank you.” I’d never cared for the taste. Instead, I took a pack of Camels from a pocket and shook out a cigarette. “What can I do for you?” I lit the cigarette and brought it to my lips.

“This has to do with Knight, Inc.” He gave a deprecating chuckle. “I’m afraid it’s a bit cloak and dagger-ish.”

“I’m intrigued. What is it?”

“A Brazilian archaeologist has requested funding from the company.”