Chapter 20
THE woman was, in a word, stunning.
She was in her twenties and tall—about five foot ten—with a shapely figure and silky black hair that featured a slight kinky curl.
Rapp was no stranger to pretty girls, but the raven-haired woman wasn’t just beautiful.
She could have graced a magazine cover. Her yellow sundress left her tan shoulders bare, but still flattered her hips and breasts.
She also seemed to know what she was about.
After rounding the corner, she strode up to the apartment building’s front door and confidently pressed the recessed button next to the knob.
The buzzing of the electric lock disengaging carried to Rapp.
The woman pulled on the door handle and slipped inside.
“What the hell?” Rapp whispered into his mic.
“Mi dispiace. She was in a cab. The car stopped a block from the apartment, so I didn’t think she was a factor.”
Now Rapp had another decision to make.
Ambushing the SISDE operative in his flat was a risky proposition.
Assuming the new woman was heading to Romano’s apartment, popping in when the intelligence officer had company was out of the question.
Unfortunately, Rapp had already vacated his table at the café and was halfway across the street.
He’d need somewhere to loiter while the intelligence officer entertained his second beautiful woman of the evening.
Oh, the trials of being a signore.
A sedan raced around the corner from Rapp’s right and sped through the intersection.
Rapp jumped out of the way. The car blared its horn, but kept rolling.
Italy was one of his favorite countries, but its motorists left something to be desired.
He made the appropriate gesture to convey his outrage toward the vanishing sedan and added a string of off-color phrases.
French might be the language of love, but when it came to cursing, Italian was just plain musical.
“Step it out, Mitch. That car is rounding the block.”
Rapp frowned. “Did you get a look inside?” He’d only caught sight of the driver.
“Stand by. Okay—the angle isn’t great, but we think four occupants. The sedan just passed out of view. What do you want to do?”
Great question.
At this point, he was closer to the apartment building’s stoop than the opposite side of the street, so he elected to keep going.
In typical Italian fashion, the building’s first floor was dedicated to commerce.
In this case, a bookstore. The bookstore’s entrance was adjacent to the apartment building’s doorway.
Ducking into the bookstore would attract less attention than reversing course and would also have the added benefit of allowing him to observe the apartments’ entrance through the shop’s large picture window.
“Keep eyes on the street,” Rapp whispered. “I have the apartment building.”
“Va bene.”
The winding roads were difficult to surveil, but he’d rather have the team focused on providing him with an early warning. Since the entrance was in plain sight, he wasn’t worried about the woman slipping away unnoticed or someone else entering the structure unseen.
“The car’s two blocks north of your position. He’s proceeding east on a street paralleling yours. Coming up on a one-way avenue that would head south, toward you, if he takes it.”
Rapp was almost to the curb.
“He took the right. Headed south. He’ll be at the intersection with your street in fifteen seconds. Maybe less.”
Rapp stretched his long legs, eating as much distance with each stride as possible. Running across the street was very un-Italian and he didn’t want to stand out in case his team wasn’t the only surveillance element set up on the apartment.
“At the corner now. Turning right. Headed west toward you. Five seconds.”
Rapp stepped onto the sidewalk just as the apartment building’s door swung open.