Played

by Barbara Freethy

  Christina moved slightly, catching J.T.’s eye. His lips tightened. He gazed back at Evan and put up his hands. “You win. Take the diamond; go.”

  Christina couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Evan also seemed surprised. His hand shook, a sign of indecision. That was all it took, one split second of hesitation.

  J.T. launched his body against Evan’s in a full-blown tackle. Evan stumbled backward, trying to grab on to the walls of the tower as his body slid toward an arched opening. When that didn’t work, he threw his arms around J.T.’s neck, dragging him with him.

  Christina watched in horror as Evan’s body rammed into the single rail with so much force that he started to go over the side. His eyes bulged in fear. His arms tightened around J.T. Evan was going to take J.T. with him.

  Christina threw her arms around J.T.’s legs. “Help me!” she yelled at her dad.

  Marcus came up behind her and yanked Evan’s arm off of J.T.’s neck. With nothing to anchor him, Evan fell backward over the railing, through the arch, into the night. It happened in slow motion, his arms and legs flailing, a blood-chilling scream filling the air, seeming to go on forever and ever.

  Christina and Marcus pulled J.T. away from the opening. He bent over, hands on his knees as he struggled for breath.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  He straightened and opened his arms. She threw herself into his embrace, pressing her face against his chest, thrilled to hear the rapid pounding of his heart. He was okay. He was alive. Thank God!

  Tears streamed down her face in blessed relief. She didn’t want to let him go. She’d almost lost him. They’d almost lost each other.

  “You scared the hell out of me,” J.T. murmured as he pulled away. “Did he hurt you?” His worried eyes searched her face. “When I saw you tied up, with that tape over your mouth, I wanted to--”

  She put her fingers against his lips. “Sh-sh. I’m okay.” She reluctantly stepped back, glancing at her father. He was staring at her and J.T., probably wondering what was going on between his daughter and an FBI agent. “I guess I should introduce you.”

  “No need,” J.T. said. “I’m the man who loves your daughter.”

  Marcus nodded. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said with a slight smile.

  Christina was thrilled to hear the words, but J.T. was already turning away.

  “I need to check on Evan,” he said grimly.

  “We’re three stories up. He couldn’t have survived, could he?”

  “I have to make sure.” J.T. headed toward the door.

  Christina and her father followed J.T. down a long, winding staircase that seemed to take them forever to descend. When they reached the ground they raced out to the courtyard. Evan’s body lay in a crumpled heap on the cobblestones, one hand outstretched as if he had tried to break his fall.

  When they moved closer, Christina gasped with alarm. Evan’s bright blue eyes were open, staring straight back at them. Was he alive?

  J.T. dropped down on one knee, gazing at Evan. “He’s laughing at me, even in death,” he said bitterly.

  “Are you sure he’s dead?” From the angle of his head, it appeared as if his neck had snapped, but there was something about those brilliant blue eyes staring up at them that made her spine tingle.

  J.T. put a finger to the side of Evan’s neck, searching for a pulse. “Nothing. He’s dead.” He paused for a long moment and then said, “I won, Evan. You lost. Game over.” With one hand he reached over and pulled the lids down on Evan’s eyes.

  Christina blew out a breath of relief. J.T. had his justice. And Evan had died at his own hand. His greed had taken him over the edge of reality as well as the bell tower. She met J.T.’s gaze and saw conflicted emotions in his eyes. Then he pried Evan’s fingers apart and retrieved the diamond necklace. That stone had caused a hell of a lot of trouble. He slipped it into his pocket and stood up.

  Before she could say anything a group of three nuns came running across the courtyard, obviously having heard Evan’s screams. Marcus intercepted them. They spoke in rapid Italian, hands gesturing, words flying. One of the nuns returned to the building, presumably to call the police, Christina thought. The other two dropped down on their knees beside Evan, one checking for his pulse, the other lowering her head and clasping her hands in prayer. Her father stood over them, watching, offering a longer explanation as to what had happened.

  She wondered why her father wasn’t trying to run, why he wasn’t using the distraction to slip into the dark countryside. It would be easy for him to get away. But he wasn’t even trying.

  J.T. took her hand and led her a short distance away from the others. “We have just a few minutes before the police arrive.” He put his arms around her and squeezed tight, pressing his face into her hair. She heard him take a long, deep breath; then he lifted his head. He touched her wet cheeks with his fingers, wiping away the remnants of her tears. “I was afraid Evan had hurt you,” he murmured, “that he knew that hurting you would punish me more than anything he could do to me.”

  “He didn’t touch me,” she said softly, lacing her fingers together behind his neck. She needed to hold him for as long as she could.

  “What happened? How did Evan get you out of the farmhouse?”

  “He put some cloth over my face. It smelled vile. I couldn’t breathe. It knocked me out. When I woke up, I was tied up and in the tower.” She pressed onto her tiptoes and kissed him tenderly on the lips, needing more than just his touch. She needed to taste him to believe he was really all right. He kissed her back like he never wanted to stop. But they had to stop. They had to talk before the police came, before they had to explain everything that had happened.

  “I was so scared, J.T.,” she murmured.

  “I know. I wish I’d gotten there sooner.”

  “Not scared for me -- for you,” she corrected. “I thought you were dead. Evan said you weren’t coming. He acted as if he’d killed you.”

  “He knocked me out at the house and shoved me down the basement stairs.”

  “Oh my God!”

  He gave a dismissive shake of his head. “It was just a bump on the head, some bruises.”

  Observing his swollen face, she suspected he was downplaying his injuries, but at least he was still in one piece.

  “It took me a while to get out of the basement,” he continued. “Every minute that passed I thought of you.”

  “How did you know to come here?”

  “I found the book and the sketch in the farmhouse. I figured the fresco had something to do with the diamond, and I took a shot that Evan might have brought you here. Thanks for leaving that book out.”

  “That wasn’t deliberate. I had just found it when I heard someone coming down the hall. I thought it was you. I wanted to tell you that I finally had a clue, so I went running out of the room, straight into Evan. I recognized him from the picture you’d shown me. He wasn’t in disguise anymore.”

  J.T. turned his head once more in Evan’s direction, as if he still couldn’t believe the man he had chased for so long was dead.

  “You got your justice,” she told him. “Evan Chadwick can’t hurt anyone again.”

  “It hasn’t sunk in yet.” He gazed back to her, his hands moving to her arms, holding tight, as if he was afraid she’d run. “When I realized that Evan had kidnapped you, Christina, I was more terrified than I’ve ever been in my life.” He paused, his fingers biting into her arms. “I love you. I want you to know that.”

  Her eyes blurred with tears. “I love you, too, J.T., and I was so afraid I wouldn’t have a chance to tell you. We kept putting off talking about us, and then it was almost too late to talk. When I thought you were dead, I realized how much I had left unsaid. That I’d never told you I appreciated the help you’ve given me, the way you put your job on the line, the way you supported me when I found out about my mother, and the fact that you came racing to save my life tonight. I know you wanted to get Evan, but--”<
br />
  “But I wanted to save you more,” J.T. finished. “When we were up there in the tower, I had only one thought -- to keep you alive. Evan was right when he said I wouldn’t be able to watch him shoot you. There was no way I could let him do that. I was about to throw down my gun when your father pulled the diamond out of his pocket.”

  “He came through, too -- in the end.” She glanced back at her father and saw that he was watching them. “I thought he would have run by now, but he’s still here.”

  “I thought he would run, too,” J.T. admitted.

  She met his gaze. “You were going to let him go, weren’t you?”

  “He is your father. And no matter what he’s done, he loves you, and you love him.”

  She nodded. “I do. I’d better talk to him.”

  “Do it quick. The police will be here soon. I’ll try to help him, Christina, but I can’t make any promises. He did steal the diamond. We’ll have to sort out who it really belongs to later.”

  “I understand. I’m not asking you for any more favors. My dad has to face the music. I know that.” She forced herself to let go of J.T. and walk over to her father. “Dad,” she said, not knowing where to start.

  Marcus opened his arms, and after a moment’s hesitation she walked right into them. She cursed herself for being so weak. He’d lied to her, cheated. He’d stolen valuable objects over the years and put her life in danger. But he was still her father, still the man who had raised her all alone. It was so complicated. She loved him. She hated him. In the end he had come through for her.

  She stepped back and gazed into his face. “How did you know where I was, Dad?”

  “I received a message from Evan Chadwick. He told me to meet him here or he would hurt you.”

  “And you came.”

  He appeared surprised by the question. “Of course I came. You’re my daughter. I love you.”

  “You lied to me. You kept things from me. I know everything, Dad. I went to the Benedetti house. I spoke to Maria. She told me about...about my mother.”

  He drew in a quick, sharp breath and then let it out. He slowly nodded. “I guess it was time.”

  “It was long past time. Why didn’t you tell me? Why keep it a secret? Did you think I would go running to the Benedettis? I don’t understand.”

  “I didn’t want to hurt you. I wanted to protect you.”

  “No, there’s more to it than that,” she said with a skeptical shake of her head. “I know you, Dad. You’re not that noble. I have to admit that up in the tower there was a part of me that wondered if you’d give up that diamond for me. I know how much you love historical pieces.”

  “Not more than I love you, Christina.”

  “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have come to Barclay’s and impersonated Howard Keaton and stolen the diamond from me. How could you do that? How could you look me in the eyes and lie?”

  “It was necessary.”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “Yes, it was,” he said firmly. “And there’s something you should know about the necklace -- the one he has in his pocket,” Marcus added, pointing to J.T.

  “What?” she asked warily.

  J.T. took a step forward, frowning at the turn in their conversation. “What’s going on?”

  “I had several copies made. Some were for practice,” Marcus explained. “It took a while to get it exactly right. In the end, I kept the copies. I thought I might need them. A couple of months ago a woman contacted me, telling me about the diamond. She had no idea I knew more about it than she did.”

  “Was her name Nicole?” J.T. interjected.

  “I believe it was. I met with her briefly. She said she and her partner had a plan to steal the diamond and thought I might want in on it. I told her I wasn’t interested, that I would never bring trouble to you, Christina.”

  “Yet you did. And Nicole and Evan set you up as the scapegoat for their crime -- you and me.”

  “I must admit I didn’t see that coming. But the more I thought about that diamond, the more I realized this was my one chance to make things right. I also figured that Nicole was planning to steal it anyway. I couldn’t let it end up in anyone else’s hands. I had to make my move first.” Marcus paused. “In the tower I gave Evan one of the copies I had made. I didn’t think he would be able to figure it out right away. I thought it would buy us time.”

  Her jaw dropped in amazement. “And what if he had figured it out?” she demanded. “My God! You risked my life again. I can’t believe it. I thought you came to save me. But you wanted to have both me and the diamond.”

  J.T. walked over to them and pulled the diamond out of his pocket, his lips drawing into a tight line. “So where is the real stone, Mr. Alberti?”

  “It’s where it belongs,” Marcus said simply.

  “It’s not,” J.T. said with a definitive shake of his head. “If you’re talking about the hiding place in the fresco, I already checked. The diamond isn’t there. I bet Evan checked, too. That’s why he took Christina up to the bell tower. He knew you still had the real stone.”

  “Where is the fresco?” Christina asked, distracted by J.T.’s revelation.

  “It’s in the small chapel over there.”

  “The stone didn’t belong in the fresco either,” Marcus interrupted.

  “Just stop it, Dad,” Christina ordered. “Stop lying and acting dramatic and telling half-truths. Maria told me that if that diamond belonged to anyone, it belonged to me. I was the heir, so if you’ve stuck that stone in some ancient cross or something, you’d better have a good reason why.”

  Her father stared back at her for a long moment. “You’re right, Christina. The diamond would belong to you if...”

  “If what?”

  “You need to come with me,” Marcus said abruptly.

  “Come where?”

  “Into the convent,” he said, taking her hand.

  “If you’re thinking of escaping, you can forget about that,” J.T. told him.

  “There’s nowhere to go,” Marcus said. “Except inside. You can come, too.” He looked over at the nuns and said something in Italian. The older nun nodded and waved them toward the building.

  “You know these people,” Christina mused, realizing now that her father had been talking to the nuns as if they were more than acquaintances. “How do you know them?”

  Marcus didn’t answer her; he just kept walking.

  They moved through another quiet courtyard and then into a building. It didn’t look like a convent or an abbey. It appeared to be a hospital -- a medical center, she realized. Her legs grew heavy with tension, and a terrifying panic ran through her body. Where on earth were they going? What could her father possibly have to show her in this hospital?

  He stopped in front of a half-open door, then pushed it all the way open and waved her into the room. She hesitated. She couldn’t handle any more surprises.

  “You want the truth, Christina,” Marcus said quietly. “It’s in this room. The choice is yours.”

  Swallowing hard, she stepped over the threshold. There was a small lamp next to a bed. A woman sat in a chair facing the door. She had long brown hair that fell to her waist, and dark eyes that were so familiar....

  Christina’s heart stopped. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “It’s you.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Christina looked from the woman to her father. He walked over to the woman and put a hand on her shoulder. The woman didn’t react in any way.

  “This is Isabella,” Marcus said gently. “Your mother.”

  She bit down on her lip. She’d never thought to hear those words -- your mother. Her mother was dead. Her mother had left her. That was the story. Now her father wanted her to believe another story -- that this woman sitting in this convent hospital in Tuscany was her mother. How could she be?

  Christina started shaking her head. She couldn’t move forward. She couldn’t move back. Nor could she tear her eyes from the face that l
ooked so much like her own.

  Why wasn’t Isabella saying anything to her?

  In fact, her mother wasn’t even looking at her. She was staring at the wall. She seemed completely oblivious to the fact that three people were standing in her room, two of whom she’d never seen before.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Christina whispered.

  “She had a nervous breakdown. She lost her mind,” Marcus said quietly, his eyes meeting hers. “After you were born, the depression set in. Then she got sick, a high fever. It ravaged her body. Her mind gave up. She’s been like this ever since.”

  “For almost thirty years?” Christina asked in shock.

  Marcus nodded. “Yes.” He kissed Isabella softly on the cheek. She didn’t even blink. Then Marcus gently pulled the top of her sweater to one side. Christina wondered what he was doing, and then she realized what her father had been trying to tell her. He had brought the diamond back to its rightful owner. The necklace hung around Isabella’s neck, the diamond glittering against her pale skin.

  “It is hers,” Marcus said, gazing back at Christina. “It was always meant to be hers -- and then yours. Vittorio stole it from her when he found out about our affair. He took it to punish her. He knew how much it meant to her. Isabella was fascinated by the story of Catherine and her first love. It was all she talked about when we met. We learned the story together. We found the fresco, the secret hiding place...everything. Isabella said she would hide it away until she had a daughter or until one of her sons had a daughter. But everything went wrong,” he said sadly. “Everything.”

  “Because the two of you didn’t belong together,” Christina said. “She was married. You should have left her alone.”

  “I tried. She was so unhappy, so fragile, so beautiful. I couldn’t resist her. I was weak. But you know that about me, Christina. You know that I can’t ever walk away from what I want.”

  She did know that. And still she loved him. What was wrong with her? Shaking her head, Christina turned her attention back to Isabella. “Why didn’t you tell me she was alive and ill? Why did you make me believe that she had left me, when apparently she did everything she could to try to keep me?”