Into Temptation

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Into Temptation Page 12

by Jeanie London


  Since she’d trailed him through a rental car last night, she considered that he might have changed his mode of transportation. She’d wasted so much precious time running rental car companies and checking train ticket purchases.

  He hadn’t left Vienna by either. Nor had he left via commercial carrier. No recognizable alias had turned up, and after exhausting her list of possibilities, Lindy had been forced to reevaluate her strategy. She’d made love to this man, for heaven’s sake, so how was it that she couldn’t guess what his next move might be?

  Sheer stubbornness prompted her to get analytical. She’d reviewed every step Joshua had made since her informant had connected him to the White Star in New York City. So far, he’d been trying to dodge her and hadn’t succeeded. Knowing what she did about the man, she guessed he’d attempt a different tack.

  By keeping up with him, she’d proven herself a worthy adversary, and with that idea taking root in her head, Lindy projected various ways how he might trick her.

  Or try to.

  She looked at bus departures, which would have been an unexpected mode of travel for Joshua Benedict and his five-star tastes, and had come up empty. She swung to the opposite extreme and checked private air travel. Nothing. Out of frustration, she began running every couple who’d flown out of Vienna, and had by default started with the non-commercial carriers.

  That’s when she’d come across her first red flag—a woman who’d charged two tickets to Venice then exceeded her credit limit with a purchase in a shop near the Rialto Bridge.

  It was weak, but Lindy had been desperate.

  One glimpse into the woman’s credit history, though, had kick-started an idea of what Joshua might have done. He could have thrown Lindy off the scent by paying a stranger to travel with him, turning a single male traveler into a couple.

  Lindy guessed he would have paid his companion cash to charge the airfare, which would explain why she hadn’t come up with anything on his money trail after several substantial withdrawals in Vienna.

  So she’d followed this line of reasoning and lucked into the cell phone number of what turned out to be a college student.

  Lindy had dialed, and the girl had picked up.

  Yes, she’d traveled to Venice with a handsome blond man.

  No, he hadn’t told her why he’d wanted someone to travel with, but considering the payment he’d offered, she hadn’t pushed for an answer.

  Yes, they’d parted company at the airfield immediately after landing.

  No, he hadn’t told her where he was going.

  Lindy wasn’t sure what it was about her questions that triggered the girl. Something did. This twenty-year-old had obviously assumed Lindy must be a scorned lover, and “Mark”—Joshua’s newest alias—had been trying to sneak out of Vienna to get away from his stalking ex, who was ballsy enough to call a perfect stranger and start grilling her for information.

  The girl had sounded afraid Lindy might demand retribution, and asserted that nothing had taken place between her and “Mark” because he was way too old for her.

  That had made Lindy chuckle.

  Otherwise, Joshua had chosen his target well. The girl was just young and broke enough to take advantage of opportunity when it knocked. A visit to Venice fitted easily into a few days’ break from classes, and a small plane with eighteen passengers including pilot and flight attendant had made providing a companion service seem safe enough to chance.

  Joshua obviously hadn’t cautioned the girl about talking if she was approached, which Lindy interpreted to mean he thought he was too slick to be caught this time.

  Arrogant man. But the man was also quite good, possibly the best she’d come up against.

  Both in bed and out.

  Not that they’d actually done it in a bed yet.

  The thought alone was enough to sober her. With agitation fueling her strides, Lindy shook off her runaway feelings and circled the piazza again, scanning the crowds for a flash of familiar blond hair.

  She had no business thinking about beds or yets. Lover or not, Joshua Benedict was a bad guy. Fundamentally opposed to all she stood for and the cause she’d devoted her life to. Justice. She’d gone into law enforcement and then ultimately the secret service because she wanted to catch the bad guys.

  Lindy couldn’t remember a time during her upbringing that she hadn’t spiced up the routine of her quiet life with fantasies of adventure. She’d willingly sacrificed a normal existence with normal friends for a life of never-ending chases. Just because Joshua was scrumptious didn’t make him any different from the umpteen other criminals….

  But for some reason, Lindy couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d looked like last night, not while they’d been making love—although the memory of his hungry expression made her knees go weak—but how he’d looked when her taxi had driven away. He’d stood in the rain and watched her get off safely, a noble gesture where she’d least expected one.

  She would have to credit Joshua with being a study in surprises, or admit that she wouldn’t have minded a little predictability right now. She was getting nowhere with these crowds, and didn’t have time to question every gondolier in the city about their fares. The only tidbit the college girl had served up had been a mention of a cathedral.

  Of course, looking for a cathedral in Italy was like looking for a needle in a haystack. But it reminded Lindy of Joshua’s visit to St. Patrick’s.

  So here she was in the Piazza of San Marco, Venice’s most renowned cathedral. She had no clue why Joshua might come here, just as she’d had no clue why he would have been climbing down the side of an office building last night.

  She’d had Blythe run a list of all that building’s occupants, though, and as soon as five free minutes presented themselves, she’d go over the list to see if anything rang a bell. She’d also had Blythe red flag the neighboring museums and art galleries to see if anything turned up missing during the time frame of Joshua’s visit.

  Caution never hurt with this man.

  Neither would some luck, but it didn’t look as if Lindy was about to catch a break anytime soon. The night slipped away and, worse still, she was gasping for some decent information.

  She hadn’t made it this far only to fall out of the game.

  Lindy hoped.

  “A magnifico,” a handsome male yelled out over the music.

  Inclining her head at the compliment, she continued past the open air café, cursing her lack of knowledge about Joshua. She’d gotten naked with the man, and didn’t even know his real name. Of course, he didn’t know hers, either.

  And what was his deal with churches anyway?

  Now there was a question she’d love an answer to. She tried to recall exactly what the college student had said.

  We did nothing on the flight but talk. About Vienna, about our favorite cities. He said he likes cathedrals.

  Lindy stared up at the silhouette of the cathedral’s spire, the Gothic lines and winged lions dark and proud against the moonlit sky.

  He said he likes cathedrals.

  Something about that bugged her. Rubbing her temple, she inhaled deeply of the sea-tinged air, tried to clear her head and figure out exactly what didn’t feel right.

  An innocuous statement that didn’t come as any surprise, considering she’d followed him into St. Patrick’s.

  Lindy sidestepped a couple who’d obviously had too much to drink, and stared into the piazza.

  No, his interest in cathedrals wasn’t a surprise. Nor would it be to Joshua. Not when she’d confessed to tailing him through New York City.

  Lindy’s instincts went live.

  Joshua hadn’t told his companion anything else of much value, so why would he drop a hint the size of a nuclear bomb?

  She’d been operating on the assumption that he hadn’t expected her to discover he’d hired a companion to travel with him… But now that Lindy thought about it, the whole situation felt too easy. Once she’d tracked down the credit
card purchase, the cell phone number had followed accordingly and Joshua’s young companion had readily spilled her guts.

  Joshua Benedict had chosen his companion wisely then fed her exactly the information he’d wanted Lindy to have.

  Damn, she’d been had.

  The impulse to scream hit hard, but she’d have to make time for recriminations later. Right now she needed to make up for lost time. If she could.

  He said he likes cathedrals.

  Naturally, she’d have chosen the best known of Venice’s churches. Joshua liked big showy places. Usually.

  If he wasn’t here, where would he be?

  That question fueled Lindy’s strides across the piazza to the café. Shouldering her way through the crowd, she queued up at the counter, deciding caffeine was in order here.

  Or maybe she just needed to take action, no matter how pathetically ineffective that action might be.

  One could never go wrong with caffeine.

  That thought didn’t offer much comfort, either. But while waiting, scowling at no one in particular and everything in general, Lindy noticed the metal rack of tourist merchandise—postcards, decorator magnets, local guidebooks.

  Plucking a guidebook from a slot, she flipped through. If the dodgy man had misdirected her, where would he have gone?

  He might have headed to the mainland and vanished into the Italian countryside, but Lindy didn’t think so.

  Where would the fun be if he didn’t give her a chance to chase him? That was the whole point of the game, after all.

  No, Joshua had come to Venice for a reason, as he had to New York, London and Vienna. Save for the White Star, she might not know what his business was, but instinct told her he’d come for a reason.

  “Che farà lei ha?” The server jarred Lindy back to the moment.

  She ordered espresso, and asked, “Is Santa Lucia the smallest church around here?”

  “A tiny place compared to what we have here.” The girl gestured to the café and beyond. “Not so much to see at Santa Lucia. The locals pray there because it’s quiet.”

  “So nothing worth seeing on tomorrow’s tour? What about the altarpieces? The artist is pretty well-known.”

  “They are altarpieces.” The girl gave a shrug that effectively conveyed her opinion on the subject.

  “Right. And this, too.” Lindy plunked the guidebook on the counter, paid for her purchases and dropped a tip in the jar.

  Moving away from the counter, she raised the cup to her lips, sipped, and grimaced as the liquid scalded her throat. She’d have preferred a cup of tea, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Her need for caffeine was great. As humiliating as it was to admit, Joshua had reduced her to the level of desperate. Lindy made her way out of the café and considered Santa Lucia.

  Leaning against the café’s gate, she retrieved a map from her carryall, spread it wide and pinpointed the various churches in the immediate vicinity, wishing for a place to pull out her notebook computer. But she hadn’t checked into a hotel yet and didn’t dare risk a table at any of these cafés.

  No, she’d have to make do with the map to attempt reasoning as Joshua might.

  If he’d planted his unsuspecting companion with clues, he’d expect Lindy to make for the best known of Venice’s churches. That was a logical starting point, given his usual MO…the thought stopped Lindy again. She remembered his bold actions at Queen’s Cross, recalled mentioning that she’d been following him based on his modus operandi. Would he expect her to head for the cathedral, while he had headed for the smallest, least-known church, which just happened to be around the corner?

  Well, what did she have to lose?

  Not much, unfortunately.

  But taking to the dark city streets required precaution, no matter how pumped up on caffeine she was. So, stopping inside a newsstand at the corner of the piazza, Lindy bought a cheap rain poncho in the darkest color they offered. The muddy brown garment would conceal her travel clothes—blue jeans, trainers and carryall with all her high-tech gadgets—and even possessed a hood to cover her hair.

  Taking a last swig of espresso, she deposited the cup in a waste receptacle and didn’t don the poncho until she’d rounded the corner. Moving with a quick step over the pavement, she considered her strategy. She’d case the place the way she had the buildings around the park last night, and hope she came across something that caught her attention.

  She refused to accept that Joshua might have gotten away, refused to entertain thoughts of defeat. She made her way from the busy piazza through lanes narrow and dark and twisty that carried her farther and farther from the active Merceria shopping district.

  According to the guidebook, only the altarpieces were notable at Santa Lucia, but as Lindy caught sight of the small church, she disagreed. A survey of the perimeter revealed a semidetached building behind the church—a chancellery according to the sign.

  Lindy only had to walk the block once to notice someone inside the chancellery. A shadow moved past a window, indistinct and almost unnoticeable if not for the dull glow of a street lamp through what must have been another window across the room.

  Lindy might have reasoned an overzealous administrative assistant or overworked priest burning the midnight oil, except there were no lights on inside. Whoever was there was walking around in the dark, which struck her as decidedly odd. The gate to the small yard was closed tight, and nothing about the sealed-up entrance set off any alarm bells.

  But that was only before she noticed another light in the mews across the lane. A quick glimpse as she walked past, and Lindy realized she wasn’t the only one casing Santa Lucia.

  A cruiser sat in the alley, headlights off, only the glow of an interior light—likely a computer display—marking the polizia’s presence.

  Keeping her pace steady, Lindy kept to her path, not wanting to draw any attention to herself. As far as the polizia was concerned, she was nothing more than a local heading home after a late shift at work. But as she rounded the corner to the east side of the chancellery, she wondered if whoever was inside realized they were under surveillance.

  Lindy didn’t think so, especially when the shadow moved again, this time passing in front of the window of a side door that the polizia wouldn’t be able to see from this vantage.

  But Lindy could see quite clearly in the dull glow of the bald lightbulb perched beside the door, and recognized a familiar silhouette.

  Joshua.

  DARKNESS CLUNG to the stone walls of the chancellery as if it had grown with the mold through the years. Joshua moved silently but cautiously, his infrared glasses guiding him through the obstacle course of antique furnishings.

  He’d finished his work inside the office, where centuries had stuffed file cabinet drawers so full they barely closed. But he found what he’d been looking for—the most recent survey of the church grounds. While digging through those file drawers, he’d also come across a textual history of Santa Lucia’s stained-glass windows. He knew someone who had collected all sorts of religious minutiae throughout a very long lifetime, and couldn’t resist helping himself to that information, too.

  He did resist the high-tech copy machine, though. He took photos with his digital camera inside a closet, where the closed door would contain the flash.

  It wasn’t until he was returning the paperwork to the office that Joshua heard a sound from the back of the chancellery. The priests charged with the church’s care were tucked in across the street in their rectory, so no one should be inside until the staff arrived in the morning.

  Deciding against leaving until he’d assessed the threat, Joshua moved through the hallway toward a room that had been converted into a break area, complete with the requisite microwave, coffeemaker and soda machine. He positioned himself against the wall and listened.

  There was no back exit. The only doors were at the front entrance and the north side, which led directly to the church. It had presented an interesting dilemma for his br
eak-in because both entrances were visible from bisecting streets. He’d opted for the front entrance, which was actually the less-traveled route as the chancellery sat at the rear of the church.

  Crouching in the shadows, Joshua waited, his breathing stilled, his body on red alert for so long that he wondered if he’d mistaken the sound. Just when he was about to step into the break room, someone appeared from the opposite hall. The person looked shapeless in the darkness, undistinguishable as male or female while quickly moving across the break area.

  Joshua stood ready for action as the person neared, closer and closer…and he pounced.

  Only to find himself with an armful of familiar female.

  “Lindy,” he whispered.

  She twisted around in his arms. Gazing up at him from under the hood of what he now realized was a poncho, she shot him a smile that dazzled the darkness. “So much for the element of surprise.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Did you know you’re under surveillance?”

  That stopped him cold, and when he didn’t immediately reply, she said, “I’ll take the scowl to mean no. Polizia, and they’re covering both your doors.”

  “Then how’d you get—”

  She rolled her eyes, another flash of white in the dark. “You Yanks are spoiled. Everything’s always new. Didn’t you see the circular window below the soffit? It overlooks the church’s side entrance. Nice and quiet back there.”

  “You didn’t come—”

  “The caulking’s so old the thing popped right out. Of course, the glass is leaded so it weighs a ton…I think the church needs to take up a collection for repairs.”

  Since she clearly wasn’t going to give him a word in edgewise, Joshua didn’t reply. He pulled off his infrared goggles and stowed them. She’d earned the right to her smugness tonight, especially by coming here to warn him about the police—at least he assumed she’d come to warn him.

 

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