Chapter 16
Aegean Sea
“Cove.”
In the dregs of sleep, she struggled to pull her mind from the heavy sluggishness. “Mm?”
“Cove. Need you topside. There’s ships…”
Cobwebs evaporated from her mind, pulling her upright and reminding her she was on the Ilaria headed to Mykonos.
She hustled off the bed and climbed to the upper deck.
Only as she slipped into the captain’s chair did she realize it was dark.
Shaking the dullness from her mind, she looked at Dillon, who was staring out the windshield. “You let me sleep too long.”
“You know what they say about payback,” he said with a smirk.
She checked the instruments. “We are only a few minutes from the dock,” she murmured, disbelieving the coastline and the GPS. Which meant she’d slept for more than eight hours. “Disappointing—you won’t see the house as well at night.” She guided the boat to the dock.
“You kidding me?” Dillon said, peering up the flight of white wood steps that scaled the rocky incline of the island.
“Too small for you?” she teased as she brought it alongside. “Can you hop onto the dock and tie us off?”
“Sure.” He stepped out onto the transom.
Realizing he was readying to jump, she strangled a shout. “I meant—”
He went airborne, leaping from the boat to the dock. Agile, graceful, he made the six feet seem like nothing.
The Ilaria tapped the edge. She cut the engine, hustled back, and tossed him a rope.
As he secured it, she grabbed the backpack.
They hiked up the thirty steps to the lower terrace of Zio Santi’s house that had a bamboo roof and small firepit, then banked right and conquered another fifteen steps.
She knew—having counted them as a little girl.
She wound back along the ever-rising path.
“Holy fire,” Dillon whispered, then let out a low whistle as they headed past the infinity pool up to the half-dozen stone steps to the covered patio. “This place could make me wish I was rich.”
“You see why I loved spending holiday here?”
“Def.” Dillon stalked up behind her, glancing around. “Interior lights are off.”
“He could be asleep…” At the double glass doors, she rapped on them.
“Zio Santi?” Using the keypad, she entered the code and heard the lock disengage.
They slipped inside and she turned on the lights.
Travertine flooring and the beige couches were the only touch of color in the sitting room.
She moved through it to check the dining room with its bank of windows, the kitchen, the master suite.
All dark and empty. “Huh.” She wandered back to Dillon, who stood, hands tucked under his armpits.
“I think…” She frowned at the way he stood there, hunched. “You okay?”
“Yeah…just afraid I’ll break something and end up an indentured servant to pay it off.”
Cove laughed. “And you weren’t worried in my papà’s villa?”
“Guess it had a warmer vibe.”
“Well, get comfortable,” she said, as the phone on the counter started ringing. A second later, an old-school recording started. “You want to come back here? I’ll show you which room—”
“Buonasera, Ilaria.”
She whipped back to the kitchen island and hovered over the machine. “It’s him—my zio.”
“Saw your access code come through on my phone,” he said quietly through the machine. “I got a call about what happened at Vigneto Corallo and your father missing, so ironically, I’m here at the villa. I’ve just had a good chat with Signora Barbieri, and Signore Giordano called. Stay there, safe.”
Oh mercy, had she told zio about loaning the car to Cove and Dillon?
“Pick it up,” Dillon said, his tone urgent.
“Why?”
“He can’t tell anyone where you are.” He grabbed the phone and handed it to her.
Seeming to understand, she hit a button, putting it on speaker, and interrupted her uncle. “Zio?”
Her zio’s breath stalled.
Afraid he’d use her name in front of someone, she rushed on. “Please do not say my name.”
“Va bene.”
Relieved at his agreement, she continued. “Zio, I need you not to tell anyone where I am. They were looking for me.”
A long pause gaped between them for a second. “Understood. Once I get things secured here, I’ll head home. And tell the young man I can see…everything. Buonasera, Lupina.”
“Buonasera.” She eyed Dillon, feeling heat in her cheeks.
“Protective uncle,” Dillon grunted.
“He is,” she said with a smile.
“Guess we’re on our own then.”
She nodded, swallowing. Thinking of Zio Santi at the villa, what it must look like… “I was a witness… Should I have returned to tell the authorities what happened?”
“You were a target,” Dillon corrected firmly. “Staying there was not an option. Especially if you want to find your dad.”
“I suppose you are right…”
He bobbed his head down the hall. “Show me the room, then…does your uncle have a computer here?”
A smile flicked through her. “He’s an investment banker. He has several, and they’re all secure and in a room that is basically a giant Faraday cage.”
“A SCIF. Cool.”
She headed down the hall and opened a door. “This is yours.”
Dillon slipped past her into the white, linen-decorated room. Two brown leather ottomans sat at the foot of the bed, and directly opposite was a credenza with a wall-mounted TV that was flanked by doors that led onto the private terrace.
Cove pointed to the door on the other wall. “Shower and toilet there.”
“Unbelievable,” he said, staring out the glass doors.
Watching him stand at the doors overlooking the infinity pool and a perfect view of the Aegean Sea, she considered his height and shape. “You are very close to the same size and height as my zio. Come, you can get some clothes.”
“Where are you sleeping?” he asked as he trailed farther back down the hall.
They entered her zio’s room, and she turned on the light, crossed the room to the walk-in closet that was nearly as big as the room itself.
“My room is on the other side of the house.” Indicating to the shelves and drawers, she smiled.
“Help yourself. He won’t mind.” She tapped a rack of clothes.
“I wouldn’t touch these. He pretty much lives in them, but his personal shopper stocks the closet with other styles in the hopes he will branch out. It is a lost cause.”
“I should feel bad about taking his clothes…” Dillon drew jeans and a black shirt from the drawers. He picked up a pair of shoes and muttered, “Same size.”
“Good.” Admittedly, she couldn’t help but wonder how good he would look in some stylish pieces. He had the athletic frame for it. “I am going to check the fridge and see what we can do for dinner.”
She headed back down the hall to the kitchen and checked the fridge.
Not surprised, since Zio had not expected to be gone, that it was stocked with fresh vegetables and meats, she pulled out spinach, kale, tomatoes, and sausage.
Grabbing the ready-made dough, she scooped up the rest and started for the sliding doors.
Dillon returned, hurrying to slide them open for her. “Where are you going with all that?”
She strode over to the outdoor kitchen. “Here.” She set down the ingredients on the concrete counter.
“Everything is spotless,” Dillon noted.
“Tuesdays are cleaning days,” she said with a shrug, popping a black olive in her mouth.
“At least, they used to be, and I know he has not hired a new cleaning lady. She is like seventy and he adores her.” She went to work setting the wood in the outdoor oven and started the fire.
When she turned back, she faltered at how beautiful he looked standing there, arms resting on the island between them. No…no, she should not think about that.
Dillon jutted his jaw toward the ingredients. “What’re you making?”
“Fire-roasted pizza,” she said with a grin. “Zio Santi taught me how to make it.” As she laid out the dough, she eyed him. “Any intolerances?”
“Only to hunger.”
Laughing, she liked this. Liked him. Liked how he always made her laugh. “Once I get this made, we can take it down to the office and you can show me the picture, and I can get my phone.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
It was borderline therapeutic to make the pizza from scratch, watch it cook, and hang out with Dillon.
Once it was done, he picked it up while she picked out Perrier bottles, and they headed inside.
She retrieved the Faraday bag with her phone and headed down a level to the office.
Punched in a code and accessed the secure room.
With a shink, the door closed behind them.
Then a steel panel slammed over that one.
“Now, we should be good,” she said as he set the pizza on the large oval table in the middle of the private office. “Use any system you want.”
Dillon moved to a computer and jiggled the mouse, bringing the screen to life as he sat down. “Password?”
After tucking the phone under her arm, Cove indicated for him to shift aside and typed the password. “Sorry—he swore me to secrecy.”
“No worries.” Once it unlocked, he opened a browser and navigated to a website. When it loaded, he logged into the portal. “Here’s the photo.”
Cove drew a chair closer and joined him.
She leaned in and studied the image, her heart skipping a beat.
“That is definitely Papà.” Shaking her head, she noticed the other three men in the photo.
Two were about the same distance from Papà, the third a good bit farther with his back to them.
“That is Enzo in the foreground, and I assume the man whose face we can see is your papà.”
Dillon nodded. “Recognize anything?”
“No…” She frowned, trying to… Her gaze settled on his dad. Some spark ignited in her brain, a memory flickering. “Wait… I…I’ve seen him before…”
Dillon snapped a look at her, their noses mere inches apart. “My dad? You’ve seen my dad before? Were you there? I didn’t think you were because you aren’t in the photo.”
She grunted. “I recognize him, but not because I was there. I think…” She squinted as if that might clear up the image better. “I can’t—” Sudden clarity shot through her. She gasped. “Wait!” Her heart crashed into her ribs, and she slapped a hand on his arm, gaping. “Santo cielo!”
“What?”
Cove leapt up and grabbed her phone from the center table near the pizza. She unlocked it and went to the photos. “I…”
“Gelato. What—”
“Wait-wait-wait.” She flicked through the images. “Remember the story about Yemen, when I followed Enzo…?”
He rose and came to her side.
She found the photo, her heart jarring in her chest as she zoomed in. She gasped. Thrust the phone at him. “Look!”
His dark eyes took forever to shift from her to the phone. Then he frowned. “Your dad… I don’t—”
Realizing the phone had zoomed back out, she stretched two fingers away from each other on the screen. “The background, near the dock. The boat—”
“Holy fire! That’s my dad!”