by Sara Rosett
“I told you,” he was saying, “I did everything possible to keep track of her. I had the tracker on her car and when the battery went out on it, I trailed her myself in a car she wouldn’t recognize. And, I planted the tracker in her bag when she went to London.”
“And yet,” Costa said, his voice soft, “You still lost her.”
“But I did everything else.”
“I am sure you did your best. However, I am disappointed.” Anna swallowed, knowing from his tone that the man had fallen far short of what Costa expected. She’d heard him use that tone and those exact words with Henri, who always leered at her hungrily when he thought she wasn’t looking. She’d been shocked when she heard Henri was dead. He’d been mugged in the streets of Naples, his throat slit and his wallet missing. Costa had shrugged.
“I took care of Bent,” the man continued in a somewhat belligerent tone that made Anna’s heart pound. No one talked to Costa like that.
“That was more important,” the man insisted. “You don’t need her.”
Costa stared at him a long moment, then crossed his arms and paced to the side of the room. “How did you take care of Bent?” he asked, his gaze on the rug.
“Poison.”
Costa swung toward him, his eyebrows raised.
The other man shrugged. “I like a little variety. You don’t need to worry. I set his office on fire. It was stuffed full of papers and books. Went up in less than two minutes. There will be no evidence.”
Anna saw Costa shake his head slightly and knew he was even more displeased. The other man didn’t pick up on the small movement. He settled into a chair across from the desk and stretched out his legs. “I figure, I completed this job as well as I could, considering that you sent another crew and spooked her.”
“What?”
“In Dallas, the two men who tried to snatch her. I was shadowing her and saw them. You should have told me you wanted me to bring her in, and I would have done it. I had her eating out of my hand. I could have proposed a romantic European getaway, and she would have tripped over her own feet to get to the airport.”
“I see.”
Anna knew Costa was considering possibilities, connecting the lines and drawing one right back to her. She was the only other person who had access to the information about Zoe Hunter and Costa’s plans for her. Time for her to cut her losses, get out of the castle, and away from Costa. She was about to slip away from the door when she noticed the leather tube propped against the leg of the desk. It was here. Her time here wouldn’t be a total loss, after all.
––––––––
THE road to the castle twisted back on itself as it wound steeply up the forested hillside in a series of hairpin turns that became tighter as they neared the top. A few houses clustered at the base of the road near the town, but the rest of the road was deserted and unlit, a quiet passage between thick bands of evergreen.
The road was clear of snow, but a layer of it, about an inch deep, covered the trees and forest floor, brightening the night. There was enough moonlight that they could see the outlines of the road and the trees. They didn’t speak as they hurried up the road, concentrating on keeping their footing. As they neared the top, a round tower in pale brown stone topped with a conical black roof came into view. Several windows in the tower glowed with light.
The road made one final curve back on itself before it reached the castle gates. They paused in the center of the road, the valley spread below them and the tower looming overhead.
The view was stunning. The lights of the village filled the hollow on the right side of the mountain, while on the left, a wall of rock plunged down to a wide gray lake that reflected the stars. Winded from the fast climb, Zoe’s words came out in choppy white wisps of breath. “Are you sure you never saw Sam here or around Costa?”
She had spoken quietly, and Jack replied in the same low voice. “Yes. He hasn’t been here. I’d remember him.”
“But him being here...it can’t be a coincidence.”
Jack studied the wall extending out from the tower. “No, it can’t.”
“He’s associated with Costa in some way,” Zoe said, feeling as if she might be sick. “Everything about him—it was all a lie. I mean, I realized he’d been lying to me, but I thought some of it was true.”
Jack took a set of keys out of his pocket. “Some of it probably was real. It wouldn’t be the first time Costa set someone up in a business,” Jack said grimly.
“But the things, he said to me, he acted like—” Zoe stopped abruptly, remembering the flirty innuendo, the intense gazes. And she’d fallen for it—all of it. She felt herself flushing as she remembered how flustered she’d been when he tried to kiss her at the airport. He’d probably been laughing inside the whole time.
“He probably meant every word of what he said to you—whatever it was.” Jack’s gaze was on the keys, flicking through them as he searched for one. “I don’t see how he could help falling for you. I couldn’t.” He looked up and locked his gaze on hers. Zoe could tell from his face that he was almost as surprised as she was at what he’d said.
What Sam had said and done faded in importance, and she was suddenly very aware of how close they were to each other, their warm breath mingling in the cold air. She wanted to say something, but couldn’t find any words. She smiled instead. Jack leaned toward her slightly, giving her time to pull away.
She didn’t make a conscious decision to kiss him. One minute they were standing close to each other, and the next his lips were on hers, and it wasn’t only her knees that went quivery. She wrapped her arms around him, her only clear thought was that it felt so right, so exactly right.
Jack pulled his lips away and rested his forehead against hers.
“I don’t see any reason to stop,” Zoe said.
“Other than the fact that it’s ten degrees?”
“I don’t feel cold.”
Jack made a sound deep in his throat and stepped back. “As always, my timing is impeccable.” He looked over his shoulder at the castle. “We’ve got to do this now. Before they realize we’re here.”
Zoe nodded. “Right.” She noticed that his breathing was as choppy as hers.
“But we will finish this discussion later,” Jack said.
“Oh, I’ll hold you to that, don’t worry.”
Jack raised an eyebrow, and Zoe felt another little tremor inside. Sure, she’d flirted with Sam and there had been an initial attraction, but she and Jack had something different, something deeper and more intimate.
Jack turned to the castle, his tone business-like. “Okay, we’ll follow this low stone wall to the gates. I have a key in case they’re locked, but I doubt they will be since Sam just drove up here. We’ll circle through the parking area to a back entrance. We’d better not talk anymore. Just in case.”
“Okay. Let’s go.” They moved silently along the wall to the wrought-iron gates that were at least twelve feet tall and had an intricate crest in the middle. They were open wide enough for a car to drive through. Their footsteps sounded loud in the quiet of the forest as they made their way across the gravel parking lot. Jack pointed to the small blue car that Sam had driven. It was parked next to a black Mercedes. A dusting of snow covered a faded red Fiat in the far corner of the parking area—Jack’s car, Zoe assumed.
They continued on to the castle wall, which soared twenty feet above them. They walked along it for about three to four hundred feet, and then they came to a point where the wall had collapsed, creating a pile of stone.
“Up and over,” Jack said under his breath.
Zoe followed him, placing her feet where he’d placed his as they scrambled upward. Zoe was aware of the dark valley below them and had a sense of moving higher, but she kept her attention focused on the stone in front of her. They crested the pile of rubble and moved down the other side into the dark courtyard with only a few stones skittering down the pile to announce their arrival. They both paused to listen
. There was a faint rustle of movement from the woods, a creature moving through the undergrowth.
They moved to the portion of the wall that connected with the tower. Jack used a key to open a wooden door, then murmured, “Watch your head,” and ducked through the pointed doorframe. Zoe glided in behind him, pressed the door closed, and then followed him down a set of stone stairs to an underground corridor. The hall was narrow and lit only with single bulbs spaced so far apart that she had to take a few paces in the dark between each pool of light. The floor and walls were made of stone and the whole place was as cold as it was outside.
Finally, Jack stopped at one of the doors. It swung open when he touched it. He cursed under his breath and moved inside. Zoe followed slowly, taking in the bare accommodations. A wooden chest, its drawers gaping open, stood next to a plain armoire. An iron bedframe with a thick down comforter filled the rest of the room. The comforter was wrinkled and bunched as if it had been shoved to the side. “Good thing you don’t mind living simply. Not very posh,” Zoe said.
Jack went straight to the open doors of the armoire. “Servant’s quarters.” He rummaged around in his clothes. “Despite the romantic image, castle life wasn’t very comfortable, not for most people. At least I have a shared bath,” he said, nodding to the door at the side of the room. He turned from the armoire, his gaze raking the rest of the room.
“Where did you put it?” Zoe asked. There weren’t many hiding places. The walls were closely-fitted stone and the furnishings, despite being bare, looked solid. Jack didn’t answer. He squatted down. The armoire sat on feet that raised it a few inches off the floor. He reached under the armoire and ran his hand along the inside edge of the trim. He removed his hand and showed Zoe a dusty strip of tape. “Gone.”
Zoe bit her lip. “All this way...and it’s gone?” She hiked the messenger bag higher on her shoulder. “That’s not good.”
“No, in more ways than one.” Jack tossed the tape away as he stood. “It means someone searched my room. They’re suspicious of me. We’ve need to leave.”
“At least, we’ve still got Bent’s laptop.”
“Give me a minute to change into some warmer clothes, and we’ll get out of here.” Jack was already moving to fish a hiking boot from under the bed. He found its mate across the room. From the pile of crumpled clothes, Jack pulled out a pair of dark pants, a pale blue shirt, and a cream sweater. “See if you can find my coat, will you? It’s black,” he said as he disappeared through a small door into a bathroom.
Zoe didn’t want to hang around any longer, but she couldn’t blame him for changing from the thin pants and windbreaker into warmer clothes. She found the coat under the comforter and handed it to him when he emerged from the bathroom, pulling on the hiking boots. He didn’t bother to tie them, just shrugged into the coat and headed for the door.
“I can’t believe we came all this way, and it’s gone,” Zoe said as Jack opened the door.
Sam stood in the hall, a gun in his hand. “Not gone.” He opened his free hand. An orange flash drive rested in his palm. “Just moved to a new location.”
Chapter Nineteen
––––––––
JACK tensed, but Sam trained the gun on Zoe’s head. Jack raised his hands. “Good choice,” Sam said. “Now, a few rules. No talking and no sudden moves. Got it?”
They both nodded, Jack a slow, deliberate drop of his chin. Zoe’s head bobbed jerkily as blood zinged through her body. She wanted to sprint away into the pool of darkness beyond the next naked light bulb, but the hall was so narrow, she didn’t have any doubt that Sam would hit her if he fired the gun. And his expression was so different, intense and focused. He looked as if he’d fire the gun without a second thought.
“Let’s make sure you didn’t bring anything dangerous with you,” Sam said as he patted them down.
Jack sent Zoe a warning look that conveyed, don’t do anything stupid, as clearly as if he’d spoken aloud.
She sent him a look back. Of course I’m not going to do anything stupid. He’s got a gun.
Somehow Jack managed to send her a smile with only his eyes. Yelp, he’d gotten the message and, weirdly, she felt reassured. Jack wasn’t going to pieces or panicking. She wouldn’t either, she vowed.
But it was hard to stay calm and focused when Sam pressed the gun to the back of her head and marched them up a set of circular stairs to a more luxurious area of the castle with drafty hallways lined with tapestries and faded rugs. He guided them to a room with an ornate wooden desk positioned between a massive fireplace and narrow windows set in a stone wall that overlooked the steeply curving road that ran down into the valley. The room looked like something out of Architectural Digest, the medieval issue. A fire crackled in the grate, the other three walls of the room were paneled in a dark wood and ringed with bookcases.
Sam shoved Zoe’s shoulder roughly, pushing her into a chair. “Hands.” He pointed to the arm of the chair, keeping the gun on her. Another man with a neck so thick that he probably couldn’t wear turtlenecks, slipped plastic zip ties around her wrists and tightened them.
“Very good,” Sam said pleasantly.
The guy with the oversized neck used the zip ties to secure Jack’s wrists and ankles to the chair beside Zoe. Then he wrapped a thick dishcloth across his mouth and tied it at the back of his head.
“So, you’re a liar, a thief, and you hold people against their will?” Anger at his lies and at the casual way he ordered them around simmered through her. Zoe tugged on her wrists, but the plastic held firm.
“I am a much more interesting person than you thought, aren’t I?” He grinned and said, “Now I will take care of your beautiful ankles.”
He was enjoying this, she realized. He liked having her restrained to a chair. A chill ran through her and it had nothing to do with the temperature in the room. Jack made a low growling sound.
Sam waved the other guy to the door, indicating he could leave. As the door closed behind him, Sam tossed her messenger bag on the desk then put down the gun and secured her ankles to the legs of the wooden chair. “Boots,” he said, clearly displeased that he couldn’t get to her ankles. “Ah well...later. No gag for you.” He stood. “It will get in my way.”
He leaned over her, his mouth inches from her ear. Zoe squished back against the chair. “I’ve been looking forward to this. It will be...” he leaned even closer and she could smell meat and beer on his breath as he whispered, “delightful.” Staying close to her face, he tilted his head to look at Jack as he spoke to him. “I think I will kill you last. That way, you may watch what I do to her.”
Cold fear washed away the surge of anger she’d felt earlier, and she broke out in a clammy sweat. This did not seem like the guy who’d flirted with her, who seemed so soft-spoken, and almost gentle. How could she have been so wrong about him? Her stomach churned. How had she ever thought he was attractive?
The door opened and Costa came inside. Sam stepped back, picked up the gun, and moved to the fireplace. Zoe recognized Costa from the pictures she’d seen in the news articles. He looked slightly older, a little more worn. He had a few more wrinkles around his eyes and on his forehead, but his lean, trim build was the same. “So, this is perfect. You arrived at just the right time.” He sounded as if he were welcoming guests to a party. He waved to Sam, indicating he should leave. Sam didn’t look as though he wanted to go, but he did, handing the flash drive to Costa before he left.
Above the gag, Jack’s gaze was locked on Costa. Jack didn’t even look tense. He held his hands loosely and his face looked calm. Zoe felt beads of sweat soaking into her clothes at her back and her armpits. How did Jack manage to look so cool, even gagged and tied to a chair?
Costa went to the fireplace and tossed another log on the blaze. “It’s a bit smoky in here,” he said as he used a poker to position the new log. “Must apologize for that.” He replaced the poker in the stand on the hearth and crossed the room to crack one of the tal
l windows open an inch. Zoe shot a look at Jack as Costa turned his back to open the window.
Jack shook his head, a warning, which Zoe interpreted to mean don’t say anything, which was fine with her. She was still trying to take in what had happened. She definitely had a down-the-rabbit-hole kind of feeling. Costa’s tone and manner were so easy and normal, conversational even, as if they had dropped by for a visit, but she and Jack were restrained with zip ties, and Jack had a gag in his mouth.
“These old homes, not everything is perfect.” Costa brushed his hands together and then checked his watch. “Now, let’s see what you brought.” Costa perched on the edge of the desk, flipped open Zoe’s messenger bag and spilled out the contents. He picked up Bent’s laptop and opened it. A few clicks and his foot, which had been swinging languidly, stopped abruptly.
He stood and closed the laptop then clasped it to his chest. “Well, this is certainly interesting. It shows you already know about my venture capital plan.” He picked up the flash drive. “I assume this is what drew you here?”
Jack’s face didn’t change.
Costa opened a drawer and removed a narrow leather satchel with a long strap, a man bag. When she and Jack were in Italy, she’d seen them a lot. Practically every guy had one. They put the strap over one shoulder and wore it across their chests, the bag on one hip, which left their hands free to drive their mopeds. The satchel was big enough that the laptop fit inside it. He added the flash drive to the man bag then put it on the desk chair. He removed a set of keys from the center drawer of the desk and set them beside the blotter.
He glanced at his watch again then moved to a grouping of two cracked leather chairs on either side of a small table set up with a chessboard. It looked as if a game was in progress. Pieces ranged across the black and white squares. Costa ran his hand down the side of the chessboard. “I suppose you think you are my opponent in this elaborate game.” He waved at one of the chairs. “I admit that dealing with you has been much more interesting than I’d anticipated. However, you are not my opponent.”
