“Shall we?” Will asked quietly.
Liz fell into step beside him, feeling her heart start to pound. She didn’t like any of this. The memory of a gun pointed at Will’s abdomen was far too fresh. And she knew he’d put himself in harm’s way to protect her. She took a deep breath and asked, “What can I do to make what you must do easiest and safest?”
He glanced at her, that faint dimple showing in one cheek. “You don’t happen to have another tranquilizer handy, do you?”
“I wish,” she muttered. But that simple, light-hearted question lifted her spirits. She hadn’t been helpless then and she wouldn’t be now. If Will got in a bind, if he needed her, she’d improvise. However she had to.
They crested the rise in time to see Trouble poised atop the wall of the terrace. When he saw them, he dropped into the garden below and then moved close to the front door.
“The gate should still be locked,” Will murmured, “so they went over the wall. If they go that way, it will slow them down. So that’s what I need to make happen.”
“I’m headed for that window that’s open. The one where Trouble was sitting earlier this morning.” He hesitated. “These bricks lining the front walk…?”
She nodded to show she was listening.
“When you hear whatever distraction Trouble causes, I need you to start heaving them at the front door. Make them think someone is trying to break it down.”
“I can do that.”
“I’ve no doubt.” He winked. “I’m sure I’ll have damages to pay for when all’s said and done. Make every brick count.”
She gave him a quick grin, feeling less like a potential victim and more like a co-conspirator as she stepped quietly in place and picked up the first brick.
Will moved to the window and crouched below it. When she heard a yowl, then a clatter, then a curse from inside, she drew back and let the first brick fly as Will disappeared through the window.
Her second brick hit almost square on the indention left by the first and she was proud of her aim and pleased with the heavy thud against the solid door. It did, indeed, sound as if someone were trying to break it down.
The din from inside topped the racket she was making. It sounded as if someone were trying to escape the house but the staccato of gunfire sent her heart plummeting to her stomach. She threw the third brick and sent a prayer with it, that it had been Will’s gun that fired, keeping the intruders on the run, and not them shooting at him or Trouble.
When Trouble howled again, she smiled. He sounded angered and not the least hurt. She bent to pick up another missile but Will called through the window. “We’ve routed the enemy. I’m opening the front door.”
He was as good as his word and when he stood grinning at her, she shook her head. “You’re well entertained, aren’t you?”
He cocked his head to one side and looked from the brick in her hand to her face. His grin broadened. “Aren’t you?”
She lowered the brick back into place and dusted her hands. She studied the two solid dents to the front door and nodded decisively before she relented and gave him a grin in return because, yes, as a matter of fact, she was entertained. And well entertained, at that.
“I’m glad you’re well paid for your work,” she said as she walked past him into the villa. “The door looks original. The bill won’t be light.” But if it helped save his life and Trouble’s it was worth every penny. And it was his money, after all.
* * *
The groceries they’d bought in the village were delivered before dark as promised, the eggs and milk packed in ice in a wooden crate and the fresh vegetables in burlap bags and left with the assurance that the containers could be returned at their convenience. There were oranges among the vegetables as requested and Liz made them each an Aperol Spritz while Will chopped vegetables for omelets.
She sipped at her drink and watched Will work, admiring that he knew his way around a kitchen. Far better than she did for sure. “How did they follow us here?”
“They didn’t exactly.”
Will looked chagrined and she lifted her brows. “Then what exactly got them here?”
After easing the first omelet onto a heated plate, he slipped a hand into his pocket and held out a tiny metal device to her. “Rookie mistake.”
She held out her hand and he laid it in her palm so that she could examine it closer. “A bug?” She’d never seen one before, not outside of a photograph.
He poured the next omelet into the pan and layered the chopped vegetables on top. “More accurately a wireless GPS tracker. It was on the motorcycle.”
“It’s small.” Smaller than a matchbox.
“But big enough to do what was needed,” he said, his tone rueful. “It got them here. I almost suspect if we’d done no more than visit the Ventasso stud farm and then taken a flight home, we would’ve been left alone. Coming back here made someone suspicious.”
“The thieves?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Politics here are as touchy as those in the States, maybe more so. Cervelli is a high-ranking statesman with as many enemies as any senator or congressman in the U.S.”
She frowned. “Do you think it’s unrelated to the horses?”
“It’s at least a possibility. It would be different if we’d been hit the first night here but the gap makes me wonder.” He shrugged. “It’s fifty-fifty either way and either way they learned nothing.”
“When do you think they planted it?”
“If it’s to do with Cervelli instead of the stallions, most likely when the bike was parked outside the government building. Otherwise, who knows? It’s a simple matter to slap it on and walk away. Easy to bend down, pretend to tie your shoe, pick up something you’ve dropped…”
“Sounds like something you’ve done a time or two.”
With a smile at her tone, he agreed, “A time or two.”
He lifted the two finished plates. “If you’ll grab my glass, dinner is served.”
She carried their glasses to the table where linens and tableware were already in place. When he sat, she lifted her glass. “To success?”
He touched his glass to hers. “Success and safety.” And just that quickly, she was reminded that what they were doing wasn’t without risks.
* * *
Later, they shifted to the sofa with what was left of their drinks. Will had his laptop open and Trouble had curled up beside Liz, the better to enjoy the soft strokes she gave him.
Liz had just closed her eyes when Will said quietly, “Time to go home.”
She opened them again at his tone and straightened to look when he turned the laptop toward her. On one side of the screen was a gorgeous horse of ebony black without a single marking on his legs. On his left nostril there was one thin, white curve that looked like an upside-down moon so small it could easily be missed. The other half of the screen displayed a form with the name of a veterinary clinic, a box checked beside a statement that read ‘first time test of this horse for this owner’ and a description that read ‘solid black, one marking, upside down thumbnail moon, left nostril.’
“Any idea where this vet is located?”
“Not yet, when my team gets done, we will. Tucker sent these to me compliments of Jana’s online search. I’ve sent it on to my agency.”
Liz leaned in to study the photograph. “He’s breathtaking. Which is he?”
“The Ventasso.”
She thought of Signore Basilio and Signora Miriam. Their heartbreak at his loss and their hopes that he would be returned to them. Like Nadine’s death, their grief made this personal to her. She wondered if it were the same for Will or if it were no more than a job to him, one he enjoyed, no doubt, but still primarily a way to make a living.
Fifteen minutes later he was on the phone making flight arrangements with Stack and she had her answer.
“Yeah, we can get back to Switzerland if that’s our best route out. We’ve got a line on the Ventasso and I need to find him before
either of his owners die of a broken heart. Then, I’m going to nail the bastard behind the thefts so he can’t do this to anyone else.”
* * *
Will watched the cat stalk back and forth across the sun-warmed tarmac in front of the small hangar. The plane was late and Will hadn’t had a word from Stack or Anya on the reason for the delay. That was concerning but not yet cause for alarm.
The weather was nice here but there were more than a thousand miles of varying weather between Switzerland and the States. There could, he reminded himself, be some amount of inconvenience if Stack’s team proved a no show. Once in Switzerland, Will had made arrangements for the motorcycle to be returned to the rental station and they’d taken a train to a ski resort town outside of Geneva, then a taxi to the landing strip. It was off season so they’d attracted a small amount of attention but nothing that alarmed him. The problem would be if Anya didn’t arrive and they had to take a room in town. He didn’t want them to be exposed for any length of time here.
Even Liz’s attention seemed heightened as she studied the horizon though she didn’t pace. Will couldn’t even picture her pacing. The woman had too much self-control. Or too much something. She’d worn her hair loose today and the breeze played in it so that the ripples caught the sunlight, reflecting back glints of gold.
Will crossed his arms and leaned against the metal siding and the move or his stare pulled Liz’s attention to him. She looked from him to the cat and opened her mouth to speak when the engine drone of a small jet turned both their heads toward the sky. Even Trouble sat at the toe of Will’s boots and looked up.
Liz smiled at him, then at Will. “Italy was beautiful. I’m glad I came but I’ll confess I’m not looking forward to the flight. I hope we don’t have to make too many more of these trips.”
A worry Will hadn’t acknowledged—that Liz would elect not to continue the search in light of the danger that had proved all too real—eased at her words. “If we do, I’ll make sure you see Venice.”
“I’d rather see the Amalfi Coast.”
Her tone had been light but Will decided to take her at her word. “I can make that happen as well.”
He thought of all the places he’d seen that he’d like to show her. Greece, he thought. And Spain. But the plane began its descent and the moment to tell her of them passed. And, he knew it was just as well. For now.
* * *
Anya smiled at them from the top of the steps as they ascended carrying their bags. Liz was surprised to realize the young woman felt like an old friend, one she was happy to see safe. They greeted each other warmly and she thought, perhaps, Anya felt the same. She supposed Shakespeare wasn’t wrong in that misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows. Under normal circumstances, she and Anya would never have met, never have had anything in common. Being on the same side at the wrong end of rifle fire gave them a unique common denominator.
“Heard you had a bit more excitement,” Anya said as she gave Liz a hug.
“A little.” Liz thought about the motorcycle colliding with the vee of a building in Rome, plunging a hypodermic needle intended for a horse into a man’s back, and her smile faded.
“Yeah,” Anya said with sympathy. “Will told Stack some of it was nasty business.”
“Nasty but necessary.” As Liz said the words, she knew she meant them more than she would have thought. Will had done what he had to do. And so had she.
Chapter Eleven
Summer Valley Ranch is a welcome sight. I rouse myself after a much-needed rest and watch from the backseat as Will turns the truck onto the long sweep of drive. It feels as if we’ve been gone forever rather than a mere five fast and furious days. White clouds drift across an azure blue sky. The air is as crisp and clean here as on the mountain tops of Italy. Ah, Italy, so nice to visit. So much nicer to leave. The natives were not all friendly as it turned out.
I do realize that is not a fair assessment of all Italians but it applies to a few too many for my comfort. Among the things I shall miss are the restauranteurs and the intriguing mix of archaic and modern at every turn. And the food, oh my, the exquisite food. And, speaking of food, I do hope Tucker or Jana has prepared some nice repast. It’s well past my preferred time for lunch.
And there they stand in front of the clinic, ready to greet us. Time to stretch my legs. Will is an expert driver and his truck is more comfortable than the motorcycle transportation he favored in Italy but enough is enough. I’m ready to set my four paws on American soil.
I follow Tucker and my nose to the small garden at Avery and Dirks’ back door. Oh, wondrous day, Tucker has the grill going. Judging by the aroma that escapes with a whisper of smoke, I’m sure there are some tasty nuggets to be enjoyed soon.
Jana pours them all a glass of wine but for me, heavenly of heavens, a bowl of broth. Chicken, I believe. Exquisite choice for an outdoor party.
But, sigh, festivity or not, there is business to attend.
* * *
“I heard from Avery this afternoon.”
Will waited, watching as Tucker turned the steaks with an expert hand. He’d had a call from Dirks earlier so suspected what was coming.
“She suggested you might make Summer Valley Ranch your base of operations.”
Will stifled a smile at the term which reminded him of a bad spy movie. “We’ve got to work from someplace,” he acknowledged.
“You still think all of the stallions are being funneled through this area?” Jana frowned as she asked the question. Will noted she’d not yet tasted the wine she held, just studied the liquid in the glass as she sat close to where Tucker stood.
“Perhaps not the valley or even this state, but the Southeast? Yeah, at least that’s a reasonable scenario. I don’t think the Catria ended up this far south by mistake nor does it make sense that they’d be scattered to different points along the coast. That would take a massive amount of coordination with some wasted resources unless they counted on and planned around interception. In my experience, no criminal expects to be caught. They tend to create a plan of action and stick to it. Plus, the fewer hands and eyes on the operation, the less chance of discovery.”
Tucker nodded as he took the glass Jana handed to him from the table beside her. “Thanks, hon,” he murmured before looking back at Will with a decisive nod. “It won’t be hard to keep your presence a secret. You’ll have to keep out of sight of the day students but the last of them leave at five each evening. If you need to go out before then, you can exit through the back gate. We keep it locked but I’ll give you one of the spares.”
Liz frowned at him. “Is there any reason you think someone would be expecting us to come back here?”
“Nope,” Tucker admitted. “Not a one. But Dirks said to be damned careful no one knew you were here. So, we’ll make sure no one does.”
“I’d say it was overkill,” she murmured, “but after the last few days…”
“And we want to help so it would be good for you to be nearby.” Jana spoke decisively but glanced at Tucker when she did so and smiled when he nodded affirmation. “All of this…it’s so horrible for the horses. And their owners. I can’t imagine.”
“What I can’t fathom is the why of it.” Tucker looked at Will. “There’s still been no demand for ransom for their return, I take it?”
“None,” Will confirmed. “Not one owner has heard anything.”
“Because they’re all stallions—at least so far—I’ve wondered if some mad scientist of a person isn’t hoping to create some unique breeding program,” Tucker suggested.
Liz lowered the wineglass that she had halfway to her lips. “I wondered that myself, Tucker, but…as beautiful as these horses all are…I don’t see their genetics combining to create some master horse.”
“Why not?” Will hadn’t considered that possibility. Didn’t even know how to approach thinking it through. He didn’t know what constituted superior equine genetics other than the obvious. Race horses needed t
o have speed and stamina. Steeple chasers need agility and endurance.
Liz looked thoughtful. “From what I can tell, except for the Ventasso with its blend of Lipizzan blood, the horses so far are sturdy stock, more beast of burden background, at least from everything I’ve been able to read.”
“I agree with Liz,” Jana said. “They each have an interesting and beautiful history but they’re not unique in the sense of anyone wanting to create some wondrous new breed.”
Tucker looked chagrined that his theory had been shot down and Will smiled at him. “The more we rule out, the less we have to consider. Process of elimination isn’t always a bad way to arrive at the truth.”
* * *
As Tucker slid steaks on warmed plates, Liz wondered which was closer to the reality of Will’s occupation. The wild few days they’d spent in Italy or this back and forth exchange of ideas between intelligent, motivated people. Well, she had a feeling that Tucker fell more in line with brilliant but she considered herself at least reasonably smart. Will seemed to blend intelligence with savvy and a high degree of determination. She didn’t have as strong a sense of Jana but pegged her someplace up there with Tucker, if only because he seemed the type who’d be drawn to a woman with a good brain.
Lost in thought, it took Liz a moment to realize Jana was talking to her as she arranged side dishes on the picnic table. “I’m going to ride the fence lines in the morning. Avery does that at least once a week but I’ve been doing it since she’s been gone. There are a few pretty places for a picnic lunch. Are you up for a trail ride?”
“Me? Sure. I’m not used to being away from home and not being on a job.”
She glanced up to see Will watching her.
“You’re on a job. Just between tasks at the moment.” His expression gave nothing away.
Was he worried she’d renege on sticking with him? “I haven’t forgotten but ‘between tasks’ makes for idle hands and mine aren’t used to that.”
A Whisper of Trouble Page 12
