Riding on Whispers (the Wolfegang series Book 3) by Jillian Ashe Page A

smile and held the door open for me. “You are very welcome. It’ll be nice not to be the only one onboard who knows this system.”
    I walked out of the dark engine room into the brightly lit cargo bay, holding his leather bound journal of notes close to my chest. He headed up the metal stairs to the common area and into the galley. I noticed that I was actually hungry then, and glad we were getting something to eat.
    Wolfe programmed something into the food processor; some meat, cheese, and crackers popped out. It looked delicious, simple and tasty.
    “I have java in my office,” Wolfe said, picking up the large platter of food.
    I nodded and followed him to his office. “Do you need help carrying that?” I asked.
    “No, I got it, but if you could open the door for me…”
    I pressed the keypad, and the door slid open. I watched Wolfe closely. He looked so tired; I wondered what was troubling him. I didn’t have the guts to get a straight answer.
    Wolfe walked through the door, and I followed him in, sat down on the couch against the wall, and tucked my legs underneath me. He set the tray down on the small table in front of me, then walked over to the opposite wall and pressed buttons on his coffee machine. A few seconds later I smelled freshly brewing coffee.
    “That smells amazing. Is it different than what’s in the galley?” I asked.
    He smiled appreciatively. “It is. I’m glad you can tell the difference. Java really isn’t that common. Tea is more popular and easier to get, but it’s not my preference. If you like, you can always come in here for some.”
    That surprised me. Why would he allow me that kind of access to his office? “Are you sure? I don’t want to use up your private stock.” I tucked a fallen strand of hair behind my ear.
    Wolfe was being nice, but I didn’t want to be more indebted to him than I already was.
    He busied himself by arranging things as he spoke. “No, I insist. Just let me know, and I’ll make it for you.”
    “Okay,” I said slowly. “Thanks.” I didn’t quite know what to make of the offer, but I was probably just overthinking it.
    Wolfe had been acting strange all afternoon. He poured me a cup of coffee with real cream and sugar and placed it in front of me. It was extravagant; a treat.
    He saw me staring. “Thanks to you, we have the extra credits, so don’t worry about it.”
    Wolfe swung a portrait open from the wall to reveal a very strong-looking safe. It had a code, hand recognition, and then a combination lock. The door looked to be made of double or even triple-reinforced steel as well. Whatever he kept in there, he wasn’t messing around.
    I couldn’t see much inside the safe as he took out a giant book. I did manage to see a few other books, boxes, and our stacks of credits with a pistol on top of them. I was intrigued by everything, betting his life was in there. Anything I could ever want to know about him was probably locked away in that safe.
    Wolfe closed the safe door, and I looked away before he could see my interest. I didn’t want him to suspect I was trying to find out his secrets for ulterior motives. I’m sure he was already somewhat suspicious of me, and he was only fighting his initial distrust because Ricky vouched for me.
    He sat next to me on the couch, far enough away for once that I wasn’t tense. He placed the book on the table and carefully opened it. “Wear the leather gloves I gave you, that way skin oils don’t transfer.”
    “Of course, Captain.” I leaned closer so I could get a better look at the pages.
    The paper was yellowed, the type was a faded greyish-black, but the diagrams looked perfectly intact. I could read everything clearly despite how old it was. “How is it so legible?” I asked.
    “Printers treat all paper products with a serum that protects the ink,” Wolfe explained. “The protectant lasts for thousands of years. Scientists developed the serum from an Egyptian recipe. It took a few