Dr. Norwood’s secretary looked up from her desk when Annabelle entered the waiting room outside the director’s office. “Good, you’re here,” Miss Abernathy said. “No need to sit down. Both generals are already here, and they want to see you at once.”

Generals? Before Annabelle could process that odd remark, the secretary rapped on the closed door of Dr. Norwood’s office and cracked it open.

“Miss Larkin is here, sir.”

Annabelle was shown inside, bewildered to see two men in uniform rise to their feet as she entered. Dr. Norwood looked nervous as he introduced her to General Molinaro, a grim-faced man who nodded to her from a shadowy corner. The other man was General Cornell, whose grandfatherly appearance and kindly smile made it easy to overlook his intimidating title. They both looked out of place here. Military spit and polish didn’t belong amidst an explosion of orchids, fossils, and books.

“Close the door, please,” Dr. Norwood instructed the secretary, whose curiosity seemed boundless as she slowly closed the door, peering through the narrowing gap the entire time.

The shadowy general spoke softly. “Is your secretary an eavesdropper?”

Dr. Norwood looked insulted. “Miss Abernathy has worked for this institution for thirty-five years.”

“She’s also nosy, and this is a private conversation,” General Molinaro said as he emerged from the shadows and crossed the room to yank open the door. “Miss Abernathy, please take your lunch break now.”

“But it’s nine thirty in the morning,” the secretary sputtered.

“Then an early tea. Either way, please vacate the office.”

Annabelle’s unease grew as she watched Miss Abernathy collect a handbag, shoot the general a chilly glare, then slam the door on her way out of the reception area. General Molinaro strode out and locked the reception area door before returning to his shadowy corner in Dr. Norwood’s office.

“Please, have a seat,” General Cornell said kindly.

She didn’t trust him. She didn’t understand why she’d been summoned here, and she looked to Dr. Norwood for direction. For once the elderly man paid no attention to his orchids and only looked at her in tense expectation.

“Thank you for joining us,” Dr. Norwood said after she sat in one of the old leather chairs opposite his desk. “I could not help noticing your association with Gray Delacroix has continued, even after learning he does not possess the rare vanilla orchid we hoped for.”

Was that a crime? “Yes,” she admitted. “We are friends.”

“What sort of friends?” the shadowy general asked.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” She might look and sound like a hayseed, but these men had no right to probe into her private life.