With fewer than four hours of sleep, Jordan parked in front of the Dizengoff Apartments and was surprised to see Detective Lotner pulling away. Flashing her credentials to the Marines on duty, she bounded up the stairs and into the Taylors’ apartment. The Marine at the door let her in.
“Everything okay here?” she asked.
Taylor stood in the kitchen and looked at her over his shoulder. “Fine. Why do you ask?”
“I just saw the detective leave.”
“He had a few follow-up questions,” Taylor said. “He wanted to check to make sure things were secure, and he brought Lucy a game.”
“That seems a little out of character.”
“How so?”
“He doesn’t seem the type, that’s all. I get the feeling he doesn’t really like Americans.”
“He likes me,” Lucy said, holding up a game board. “It’s called shachmat. Do you know how to play?”
Chess. Jordan’s father had taught her the game when she was a few years younger than Lucy. “Yes, I do.”
“Will you play with me?” Lucy reached for a box under the coffee table. “I have to warn you. I’m very good.”
“After breakfast,” Taylor said, wielding a spatula in their direction. “Eggs or pancakes?”
Jordan realized he was speaking to her. “Coffee?”
“Coming right up.”
Thirty minutes later, after feeding Lucy and putting the last dish back in the cupboard, Taylor excused himself.
“He’s calling Mom back,” Lucy said, retrieving the chess board and setting it up on the coffee table in the living room. “We’ll have plenty of time to play.”
Jordan watched as Lucy set up the pieces. The circles under her eyes looked darker today, her skin paler. Maybe the ex–Mrs. Taylor could talk some sense into the judge and get him to take Lucy home.
“I’ll bet you miss your mom,” Jordan said.
Lucy shrugged. “She can be a little smothery.”
“That’s a mom’s job,” Jordan said. “Why else would you just add an s to mother?” Still, she understood the feeling. She had been young when her mother, following her father’s death, had brought her and her younger brother, Oleksander Jr., back to the States. Changing their last names to her maiden name, their mother had tucked them away in their grandparents’ house outside of Denver and cocooned them from the world. If it hadn’t been for her grandfather, a kind and intelligent man, Jordan might never have gotten away.
“I’m white,” Lucy said, drawing Jordan back to the game. “I go first.”
“Not so fast.” Jordan picked up two pawns, one white, one black. Mixing them behind her back, she cupped one in each hand and extended her arms. “You pick.”
Lucy eeny-meeny-miny-moed and then pointed to Jordan’s left hand. “That one.”
“White. Okay, you do go first.” Jordan lowered herself into the easy chair. “Prepare to get beaten.”
As they played, Jordan was surprised at how easily Lucy’s mind processed the game, picking up on moves that hadn’t been made and planning ahead. Standard moves didn’t work against her either. When Jordan tried tricking Lucy into capturing the black bishop, leaving her open to capturing Lucy’s queen, Lucy dodged and made an unexpected move with her knight.
“Smart,” Jordan said. “But do you really think I’m going to let you pull off a knight’s fork?”
Lucy looked confused.
“If I don’t stop you, what’s your next move?” Jordan asked.
Lucy pointed to the board. “My knight goes here.”
“Ne3 plus.”
“What?”
“Lucy, if you’re going to become a master at chess, you need to learn the language.” Running her finger along the edge of the board, Jordan could hear her father’s voice in her ear. “Chessboards are numbered one to eight, starting on the white side. Sideways, the rows are lettered in lowercase, from a to h, starting on white’s left.”
Lucy concentrated on the board.
“You moved your bishop here, capital B for bishop to b8,” Jordan said, pointing. Grabbing a pad and pen from the end table, she wrote, Bb8. “See?”
Lucy nodded.
“I expected you to capture my bishop with your rook, moving R for rook to b8.” Jordan wrote, Rxb8. “The x stands for capture. Are you following me so far?”
Lucy nodded again.
“But you fooled me,” Jordan said, “and played a zwischenzug by moving Nd5.”
“What’s the N stand for?”
“Knight. The K is already being used for the king.”
Lucy scrunched up her face. “I kinda get it.”
“Then tell me, if I don’t stop you, what’s your next move?”
Lucy got up on her knees, studied the board, and then pointed to a square.
“Ne3+,” said Jordan, writing it on the pad at the same time. “The plus stands for check.”
Lucy nodded but looked unsure.
Jordan laughed. “The point is, if I take your bishop, you’re going to move your knight here, right? If I let you do that, what happens?”
“Your king is in check and you have to move him, and then I can capture your queen.”
“Right. That’s called a fork. You used one piece to put two of my pieces in jeopardy. It’s called a knight’s fork because you’re using your knight to do it.”
Lucy sat back on her heels. “But if I captured your bishop, you would have moved your queen there.” She pointed again. “Then I would be in check and you would capture my bishop.”
“She told you she was good,” Taylor said.
Jordan glanced up. In the heat of the game, she hadn’t heard him return.
Lucy leaned over the board. “You’re going to pull a zwischen-thing too, aren’t you?”
“A zwischenzug. Yes, I am. I’m moving my king to f2.”
Jordan prevented the fork and the game continued, but Lucy had more tricks up her sleeve and won in ten more moves.
“Wanna play again?” she asked, resetting the board.
“How old did you say she was, Judge?” Jordan asked.
“Eleven.”
“How many games have you played?”
“Six.”
Jordan had been beaten by a preteen who had only just learned to play.
Taylor chuckled. “Ask her how many games she’s won.”
“Five,” Lucy said. “I got beat my first one.”
“Seriously?” Jordan said. Either the child was a chess prodigy or her opponents were letting her win. “One more.”
“Game on.” Lucy moved her pawn. Jordan countered and Lucy took her pawn en passé. The kid was a quick study. Fifteen moves later, she won again.
“I give.” Jordan leaned back in her seat. Damn.
“Wanna play again?”
“What, and let you whip my butt a third time? No thanks.”
Lucy sighed.
Jordan hated disappointing her. “How about tomorrow?”
Lucy brightened. “Pinky swear?” She held up her hand with her pinky crooked. Jordan hooked fingers and promised.
Lucy put away the pieces and the board and shoved the box back under the coffee table. Her skin looked pasty white except for two bright red circles dotting her cheeks. Jordan reached out and brushed her hand across Lucy’s forehead. Her head felt warm. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m just tired.” Lucy looked at her dad. “What time are we going to Alena’s?”
“The usual, Luce.” Taylor consulted his watch. “We have to leave in a little over an hour.”
“Then I’m going to go lie down.”
Jordan flashed what she hoped was an encouraging smile and pushed herself up from the chair. “And I need to hit the loo.” She touched Taylor’s arm. “Then we need to talk.”
The night before, he had outlined their normal schedule for her. Every day, he and Lucy left in time to watch the fountain, walked to the doctor’s office, and then walked back. That was not going to happen today. Jordan had floated the idea of bringing the doctor to Lucy, but the judge had nixed it outright. It might be worth another attempt at reasoning with him.
The whole thing with Dr. Petrenko seemed a little woo-woo to her, but after hearing the story about his son, Jordan understood his stubbornness. Besides, she couldn’t force him to do anything. There was nothing official about this whole operation. The only reason she was here was because his ex-wife was friendly with the ambassador. She might be in charge of the detail, but the DSS was on precarious ground. The judge had never asked for protection.
At the sink, she flipped on the faucet, washed her hands, and then squeezed a dollop of toothpaste onto her finger and rubbed it vigorously against her teeth and gums. Regardless of what she advised, if Taylor insisted on taking Lucy to Petrenko’s office, she needed to ensure them a safe trip.
Jordan sucked up a handful of water, rinsed her mouth, and spit into the bowl. Finger-combing her unruly curls, she smoothed her wrinkled white tee. From now on, she would carry essentials—deodorant, toothbrush, toothpaste, brush, hair-tie, and a change of underwear.
Back in the living area, Jordan found Taylor sitting at the kitchen table. She pulled up a chair.
“Is there any chance I can get you to change your mind?” she asked.
“We’ve been over this.”
“I’m not suggesting you cancel. Just have her come here.”
“I told you, she won’t come.”
“Why? What harm could there be in asking?”
Taylor squared off with Jordan. “She would just want to work on Lucy from there.”
“From a distance? She can do that?” Jordan heard the skepticism in her voice. “How is that possible?”
Jordan wondered if he realized how ridiculous that sounded. “If that’s true, if she can do that, why not let her? Why not just stay here today? Or, for that matter, why not go back to the States where it’s safer for you?”
“It’s better if she treats Lucy in person.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s stronger.”
The expression on his face said it all. This was a losing battle, and Jordan knew enough to surrender. “Fine.”
A few minutes later, the Marine guard changed. Once new guards were positioned, Jordan spread out a map of Tel Aviv and called the new leader, Master Gunnery Sergeant Walker, over to the table. The night before, she had chosen their planned route. Now she laid it out for Taylor and the Master Gunny.
“One way there, another way back.” There were plenty of options. The office was on Arlozoroff Street, one block east of Adam HaCohen. Because of all the one-way streets, the quickest, easiest, and most dangerous route was to take Dizengoff Street to Ibn Gevirol and then west on Arlozorov. Her plan was to cut south.
“I won’t ride a bus,” Lucy said. She was standing in the doorway to her bedroom. Jordan glanced over. Lucy’s emotions were hard to read, but Jordan thought she detected fear in her eyes. Considering the circumstances, Jordan didn’t blame her for being scared.
“No problem. We’re going by car.” Jordan said. “I’ve arranged for an unmarked vehicle to pick us up in the alley.”
Taylor flashed a thumb’s up. “Sounds like a plan.”