Sato frowned. He didn’t like being in anyone’s debt. It was cleaner that way. No entanglements, no owing anyone a favor, but he had to find Zoe Hunter, not to mention Jack Andrews.
“So let me get this straight. You’re saying if I tell you about Darius Gray, you’ll help me find Zoe Hunter?”
Jenny had placed the pen in her mouth and was biting down on the lid. She pulled the pen out. “She’s missing?”
Sato automatically assessed the concern in Jenny’s voice. He thought it was genuine. “Neighbors haven’t seen her in days. No activity at her house for over twenty-four hours. And her best friend hasn’t heard from her, which is unusual.”
Jenny imprinted her teeth on the pen lid. “Oh, that’s not good. If she’s mixed up with this Darius Gray guy...well, she wouldn’t be the first person associated with him to just disappear.”
***
“T
HE airport or Anna’s hotel,” Zoe said, weighing their options as they fed their tickets into the machine and pushed through the metro turnstile.
The first minutes after the alarm had gone off had been painful, but a quick shower had done amazing things for her alertness, and now that there was the promise of coffee, Zoe thought she might survive. It hadn’t taken long for her to toss her small pile of clothes in the suitcase and check out of the hotel.
Jack, pulling their single rolling suitcase, pointed to the Concorde metro station on the map. “This one is the closest to her hotel. It will be easier to spot her there than the airport.” The Metro ride was short, only a few stops, and then they were climbing to street level. Zoe paused at the top of the stairs, her gaze skimming over the small cars, motor scooters, and bicycles whizzing by the row of stately stone buildings lining the street, looking for a street sign so they could orient themselves.
“Zoe, over here.” Jack tugged on her elbow, guiding her along a curved stone wall to an immense oval with two fountains on each end and a large stone obelisk in the center, the rising sun glinting off the golden pyramid at its peak.
“The Place de la Concorde,” Zoe breathed.
“Come on, we’ve got time for a quick look.” Jack grabbed her hand, and they darted across the road through the growing string of cars merging. A mist of water brushed over them as they circled the fountain. Water sheeted down from a large bowl, cascading in front of stern-faced
statues. Near the rim of the lower pool, water sprites held fish that spouted water into arcs back toward the center of the fountain.
Traffic was picking up, crowding the edge of the oval. Car horns hooted and motor scooters accelerated, buzzing through the gaps in the stalled traffic, but Zoe barely noticed as she turned to the obelisk. “I read about this on the plane,” Zoe said, walking toward it, her gaze fixed on the deeply cut hieroglyphics that marched up the sides of the granite and the glittering gold inlay on the square base. “It’s the Luxor Obelisk. The hieroglyphics are about Ramses II and Ramses III. It was a gift from Egypt to France.”
“Quite a gift,” Jack said. “Bet the shipping was outrageous.”
“It was,” she said with a smile. “Those gold inlays on the side describe how it was moved here.”
She turned in a slow circle, her smile fading. “Before the obelisk, the guillotine stood here during the Revolution. This is where Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette were beheaded.” She felt a shiver run over her as she imagined the spacious area filled with an angry crowd, crying for blood.
“The obelisk is a definite improvement,” Jack said.
“I agree.” Zoe shifted around and gazed up the tree-lined Champs-Élysées where she could see the sturdy Arc de Triomphe in the distance. Moving in a slow circle, she turned until she was facing the opposite direction, looking at the Tuileries Gardens that led to the Louvre. She caught Jack’s hand. “Thank you for bringing me here. Have you been to Paris before?” She’d meant to ask him when they arrived, but she’d been too busy soaking up the sights herself, and she’d forgotten. Jack had traveled quite a bit more than she had. “Or is it one of those places you can’t talk about?”
“No, the places I can’t talk about aren’t nearly as nice as this. This is my first trip to Paris. I’m glad we could see it together.”
“Me, too.” The words popped out before she had time to think about them, but she realized they were true. There was no one else she’d rather see Paris with.
“Come on, let’s find some coffee,” Jack said. “There’s got to be a place around here with a decent chocolate croissant and espresso.”
Jack led them to a side street off the Champs-Élysées and nodded at a hotel with twisting topiaries on either side of wide double glass doors. “Anna’s hotel.” The bit of the interior lobby that Zoe could see through the doors was all veined marble and plush red carpets. They settled at a café across the street at a table in the back row under the shadow of a burgundy awning and ordered espressos.
After devouring her light, flakey, and still warm chocolate croissant, Zoe finished off her coffee then sat back in her chair with a sigh. “So good. Now, about Anna. What’s your idea for keeping up with her once she gets to Naples?”
Jack brushed golden pastry flecks from his mouth. Usually he had the clean-cut look going on with a smoothly shaven face and his dark slightly wavy hair trimmed short around his ears and the back of his neck, but today he’d skipped shaving, and the stubble gave him a slightly rakish air. “Your phone.”
Zoe raised an eyebrow doubtfully. “My phone doesn’t have any fancy stuff on it. It’s about as basic as they come.” A no-frills phone was one of the ways Zoe made sure her rather erratic, and often minuscule, monthly income covered the bills. She hit second-hand stores for clothes, happily wore Helen’s designer cast-offs, and didn’t subscribe to cable.
“You can get texts, right?” Jack had pulled his phone from his pocket and held out his hand for Zoe’s phone.
“Yes, and take pictures, but that’s about all.” She dug it out of her messenger bag, but stopped with her hand poised above his open palm. “You’re not going to go MacGyver on me and dismantle it to make some sort of tracking device are you? I really need all the numbers in here. It may be simple, but it works. That contact list is my life.”
He grinned, his teeth contrasting against his dark stubble. “No worries. No mullet, nothing MacGyver-ish. You’ll get your phone back.”
“In one functioning piece?”
“Yes. I promise.”
Zoe gave him a sidelong look, but dropped the phone into his hand. His phone had all the bells and whistles. He tapped out a text on his phone, sending a message to Zoe’s phone. Her phone chimed.
“That’s probably the most expensive text I’ve ever gotten. International roaming can’t be cheap.”
He typed a reply on her phone. “It will be worth it.” He clicked through the touchscreen on his phone then handed it to Zoe. “Watch that screen. Let’s see if this works. Back in a minute.” He tucked Zoe’s phone in his pocket as he stood.
As he strolled away from the café and turned onto the Champs-Élysées, Zoe switched between watching Jack and the screen of the phone, which showed a map of Paris, zoomed in on their current location. A small red dot mirrored Jack’s movements as he walked down the street. When he turned the corner and went out of Zoe’s sight, the dot moved down the famous boulevard for a few millimeters, then reversed course. After a few minutes, Jack reappeared holding a small bag. The red dot stopped moving when he settled into the chair across the café table from her.
“Impressive,” Zoe said.
“It worked?”
“Yep. What’s the range on this?”
“Unlimited as long as both phones are turned on and can connect to a cell signal.”
“So now we just have to get it into Anna’s possession without her knowing. That means we have to get close to her. Or, one of us does. I vote for you.”
Jack removed two hats from the bag, one a large brimmed straw hat, the other a men’s driving cap in a hound’s-tooth check of brown, tan, and red. “Your choice,” he said with a straight face.
“Funny.” Zoe reached for the straw hat. “I’m tempted to take the driving hat, since you offered. You’re lucky I have too much hair to fit under it.” Her hair was her most identifiable feature, and if she could keep it covered, she’d feel slightly better. She gathered her hair into a ponytail and secured it with an elastic band she had in her messenger bag, then twisted it up on top of her head and pulled the hat down, trying to tuck in every stray wisp. It wasn’t bright enough to need sunglasses, but she had a pair in her bag, a knock-off of the classic black Ray-Bans, so she put those on, too.
Jack had positioned his cap and had settled a pair of aviator sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. “What do you think?”
“You look like something out of a PBS period drama. All you need is a long scarf and a pair of goggles for your drive to the country house. I don’t look nearly as swanky as you.”
“You look great.” Jack reached out and tucked a stray curl under the cap. Zoe felt herself flush.
Across the street, the hotel doors whished open, and Anna strode outside. The red wig was gone. Anna’s own short dark hair, glossy black, swung as she strode to the line of taxis waiting in front of the hotel, her black pencil skirt hugging her legs as her Louboutin’s clacked across the pavement. She’d exchanged the camel colored coat for a hip-length khaki explorer style jacket with lots of pockets, which was belted tight around her small waist. She pulled a fuchsia hard-sided rolling suitcase behind her.
Zoe’s heart began to pound even though Anna was focused only on the taxi driver. Zoe licked her lips. “Time to go.” She picked up the phones.
Jack threw a few euros on the table and grabbed their suitcase handle. Zoe squeezed the plastic of the phones in her now sweaty palms. “Now’s not a good time to try and plant the phone.”
“No, she’s too isolated. We’ll do it either at the airport here or when we land in Naples.”
They crossed the street, passing within inches of Anna as they moved to the next taxi in line. They were so close that Zoe could hear Anna give her destination to the driver, Orly.
In their cab, Jack leaned forward and pointed to Anna’s cab. “Follow it to Orly.”
Their driver hit the meter and pulled into traffic behind the other cab.
***
S
ATO rubbed his eyes then contemplated his closet—a wonder of dark wood shelving, drawers, and designer suits hanging on rods with at least an inch of space between the wooden hangers. He really should check to see what the weather was like in Italy, but he was too tired. It was after two in the morning, and he had to get a few hours of sleep before his fifteen-hour flight.
He’d spent all evening and half the night running down everything he could find on Darius Gray. Sato had discovered that Gray’s name cut through red tape like a pair of freshly sharpened scissors. The Bureau wanted Gray. They’d had him once, and he’d gotten off, so they were happy to agree to Sato’s suggestion that he liaison with Italian officials and search for Zoe, who could lead them to Gray. Zoe’s next-door neighbor had identified a photograph of one of Gray’s men, Oscar Watkins a.k.a. Oscar Brown a.k.a. Owen Brown, as a man she had seen hanging around Zoe’s house. For the last ten years, Oscar had worked exclusively for Gray as a sort of chief of staff. If Oscar was involved with Zoe’s disappearance, Gray was involved as well.
Even the FBI’s Art Crime Team was on board. He had a feeling it was their endorsement that had smoothed the way for him to go to Italy. They’d contacted their counterparts in Italy and notified Interpol. Gray was a customer of the shady Flynn Gallery of Fine Art, which specialized in black market art transfers, and since Zoe had apparently purchased a very expensive work of art from them, the Art Crime Team was all for investigating her and any link she could provide them to Gray.
He grabbed several shirts and ties and added them to his suitcase. Italy. He shook his head as he picked up shoes. He’d seen a lot of things in his job, but that one had surprised him. When Jack Andrews’ credit card statements came in, he’d expected them to show hotels and restaurants, either in the surrounding area or one of the neighboring states, not Paris and Italy.
The charges indicated he and Zoe were together. They’d paid for two rooms in Paris and now both of them were scheduled on a flight to Naples. What were they doing? Were they pawns in some bigger game, or were they partners with Gray? He’d done everything he could from here. He hoped he’d find the answers in Italy. He set his alarm, rubbed his eyes again, and dropped into bed.
––––––––
T
HE flight was uneventful, except that Zoe’s heartbeat fluttered whenever Anna’s head moved. The airline was a low cost carrier with no assigned seats. Zoe and Jack had managed to snag two seats together a few rows behind Anna. Jack—of course—went to sleep as soon as the plane pushed back from the gate, leaving Zoe to fidget and watch the back of Anna’s head. After the drink cart came through, Zoe took the sheaf of Anna’s emails Carla had printed for her. Zoe had skimmed through most of them on the transatlantic flight, but nothing had stood out then. She kept her head down and read, doing her best to ignore the bursts of turbulence as they crossed the Alps.
A few pages from the end, Zoe found another airline reservation confirmation. “How did I miss this?” she whispered to herself. Anna had traveled to Dubai in January. They were about to land so Zoe woke Jack and told him what she’d found.
Jack rubbed his eyes and stretched. “Anything else about Dubai?”
“Nothing. No hotel reservations, tours, or anything. Why do you go to Dubai? It’s not exactly a vacation capital. Or is it?” Zoe asked. About the only thing she knew about the city was its connection to the oil industry.
“It’s a business capital and a transportation hub for the region. It could have been a transfer point for her.”
“I don’t think so,” Zoe said. “It’s the same pattern as this trip. Fly in one day, back to Naples the next.”
“Naples was her departure and return city for that trip, too?” Zoe nodded, and Jack said, “That’s good. She’s probably living somewhere around here, so we may not have far to go.”
They didn’t have time to talk more because the plane had landed. There was the usual crush of people standing, pulling bags out of the overhead bins, and the push to get out of the plane. Anna whipped her suitcase out of the overhead bin and scooted down the aisle before they could get close to her to plant Zoe’s phone.
The Naples airport didn’t have covered jet ways that connected to the planes. Instead, two buses idled at the bottom of the air stairs. They followed Anna to the first bus where she snagged a seat and put her suitcase and leather purse in her lap, then rested her arms on them. Zoe shot Jack an exasperated look.
As the bus lumbered away from the plane, Zoe’s phone lit up. She had it set on SILENT, so it wouldn’t make any noise if it rang or she got a text, but the feature let her know she had an incoming text. “It’s another photo,” she said to Jack. Her heart thumped while she waited for the picture to load, and her palm felt slippery on the metal pole she held. She was expecting another photo of Helen, but a picture of her Aunt Amanda filled the screen. Zoe’s heart sank. “Not her, too.” The photo had been snapped in the produce section of a grocery store as her aunt examined fat tomatoes. Absorbed in her shopping, she wasn’t aware of the photographer. She’d tucked her blond pageboy behind one ear and held her wrinkled shopping list and half-glasses in one hand.
The photo disappeared and a message stated she had an incoming call. Zoe exchanged glances with Jack as she answered. “Hello.”
“Ah, you picked up. Excellent.” The man didn’t introduce himself. He didn’t need to. She recognized the rapid tempo of the words and the slightly nasal voice.
Oscar
she mouthed to Jack as the bus neared the airport. Jack’s lips tightened, and he nodded.
“You’ve received my messages?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t sound so testy. They are simply reminders of what is at stake. Additional motivation, if you will. Now, how is it going? Do you have it?”
“Not yet. But we’re close. Very close.”
“Where are you? Exactly?”
Jack was leaning in, his head tucked next to hers so he could hear too. She raised her eyebrows at him. He shrugged and whispered, “Go ahead. He probably already knows.”
“We’re in Italy. Naples.”
“Oh, bonus points for honesty.”
“So you knew we were here?”
“Yes, of course. We’re watching you—from afar as it were. Electronically. Can’t have you disappearing.”
“The airline tickets,” Jack whispered. “Probably monitoring my credit card.”
“This is working out so well,” Oscar continued. “Mr. Gray is on his yacht off the coast of Sardinia. Remember you only have one more day. Call me when you have the painting, and I will tell you where to bring it.” He hung up.
They didn’t have time to discuss the call because once the bus dropped them at the terminal, Anna was off like a sprinter. She sailed through the baggage claim area. Zoe and Jack dodged through the crowds, barely keeping her dark head in sight.
“What if someone’s meeting her here? We won’t have a chance,” Zoe said as they came through the door into the arrival area.
“Then we’ll have to grab another taxi,” Jack said as they both paused to scan the crowds.
“There,” Zoe said. “Going out the main doors.”
“She’s lined up to pay for parking. Looks like she’s alone. I might be able to catch her. Got the phone?”
Zoe handed it to him. “It’s still in SILENT mode,” she called after him as he jogged away. “I’ll be at the rental cars.”
Jack raised a hand to acknowledge he’d heard her, but didn’t stop. The rental car counters weren’t that far away. She got in line and turned back to watch Jack. He eased down to a brisk walk and waved off a gypsy asking for change near the lines of people waiting to pay for their parking at the machine. Jack slipped into the line directly behind Anna. She had her head down, counting out change. She’d positioned her suitcase behind her left hip.
Jack took some coins from his pocket and when the gypsy moved to ask Anna for money, he dropped a coin. He squatted and retrieved it. If Zoe hadn’t been watching closely she would have missed how he quickly unzipped the suitcase a few inches and slipped Zoe’s phone inside, then re-zipped it in a fluid motion as he rose.
Anna shook her head at the gypsy, reached blindly behind her for the suitcase handle and pulled it forward as the line moved. Zoe released a breath. He’d done it. Anna took her position at the machine and dropped in coins. Jack moved to another line, but instead of waiting in the queue, he blended in with a tour group moving toward the airport. In a few seconds, he was beside Zoe.
“Smooth.”
“Thanks.” He flashed her a smile. “You’re up next. You get to retrieve it.”
“Let’s not talk about that. I’m still shaking from being nervous for you. How can you look so calm?”
“Believe me, my heartbeat is racing, too.” Jack checked his phone. “Let’s make sure it’s working before we get too excited.”
They both peered at the screen as the map loaded. The red dot came up. Zoe gripped Jack’s arm. “It’s moving. Let’s get our rental car.”
It seemed to take forever for the paperwork, but finally they were done. As they hurried through the parking lot to their car, Zoe tossed the keys to Jack. Naples was his old stomping grounds. He’d worked for the U.S. Consulate in Naples. “You know the streets better than me.”
Jack handed her his phone. “You’re navigator, then.”
The air was balmy and had a hint of humidity, which Zoe knew would make her hair expand as it absorbed the moisture. She was glad she had pulled it back in a ponytail out of her face. In weather like this, she had a tendency to turn into a big-haired 80s look-a-like.
The sunlight was intense, sparkling off the chrome and glass as they made their way through the parking lot. Zoe was glad that she’d worn a sleeveless black shirt with white polka dots. She’d layered on her sweater and jacket that morning in Paris, but shed them both under the strong sunlight. They tossed their jackets and hats onto the backseat along with the suitcase, did a quick circle of the compact black car to make sure there wasn’t any damage, and then they were on the road.
“She’s left the airport and is merging onto the freeway, the A3.”
“Toward downtown Naples?”
“No, the other way.”
“Okay. Interesting.” Jack turned onto the narrow street that was both the entry and exit for the airport and plunged into the throng of cars navigating a traffic circle. Completely ignoring a yield sign, a dark Mercedes crowded up against their car, trying to nose in front of Jack. Zoe sucked in her breath at the closeness of the car. Less than three inches separated them.
Jack laid on the horn and forced the driver to give way. He shifted gears and accelerated out of the crush of cars into an open lane. “Ah, driving in Naples. It’s almost a contact sport.”
“I knew there was a reason I didn’t keep the keys.”
“Come on. You’d love this. It’s kind of like bumper cars.”
“This isn’t a ride at the fair.”
“You need to tell that to the Italians,” Jack said, pointing to a dented Fiat that swooped in front of their bumper at the last moment before the entrance ramp to the freeway.
Once they hit the freeway Zoe relaxed a little. The drivers on the freeway weren’t as aggressive as the drivers in Naples itself. The only worry seemed to be cars weaving lazily back and forth across the lanes, seemingly oblivious of the stripes on the road. If they veered too close, Jack gave the horn a tap, and they drifted away.
The triangle of Mt. Vesuvius came into view, dominating the horizon in front of them. It didn’t have the traditional mountain peak. The top was flat, a result of the eruption in the first century that destroyed every community in the area, including Pompeii. Ash and debris from the eruption spilled into the bay of Naples, creating the land that they were now driving on.
“Look at the snow,” Zoe exclaimed. White coated the top fourth of the mountain. It did snow occasionally in Dallas, but it was rare enough that the sight of it made her smile.
They exchanged a look, and Zoe knew he was remembering their last visit to Naples.
The road curved south, following the arc of the bay, and Zoe twisted around to keep the flare of the mountain slopes in sight as long as possible. “All those years of editing Italy guidebooks and dreaming of seeing Italy. I never thought I’d see Mt. Vesuvius even once. How lucky am I that I’ve seen it twice.”
“Second chances are rare things,” Jack said, his gaze on the road, but Zoe knew he was talking about them. She focused on the tracking program on Jack’s phone. She couldn’t handle a serious relationship conversation right now. “Anna didn’t take the exit for Pompeii. She’s going south, toward Sorrento.”
“Sorrento,” Jack said with a smile. “Another thing to mark off your list.”
“Do you think we’re going there?”
“Not many other places we can end up.”
It was true. The Sorrentine Peninsula formed the southern arm of the Bay of Naples with the island of Capri just a few miles off the tip. They had to either be making for Sorrento or one of the villages that lined the southern side of the peninsula along the Amalfi coast.
The road followed the curve of the bay then turned inland, climbing up into the hills, twisting through small villages with red tile roofs and through groves of olive trees. Zoe drank in the scenery, but all the while in the back of her mind was Jack’s statement about second chances. He wanted a second chance, but it had gone so bad, so quickly the first time. She didn’t know if she could handle that again. Sure, the fireworks between them had been amazing, but that stage had fizzled pretty fast, and then there were only long, tense silences on Jack’s part as he threw himself into his business and loud, angry words on her part.
“Look at that,” Jack said, snapping her back to the present. The road had crested the hills that lined the peninsula and emerged on the southern side. They skimmed along a sheer cliff, the road switching back and forth in a series of hairpin turns. Above them, scraggly bushes and long grasses grew near the road. Higher up, pines alternated with steep rock faces. Below, the sun glittered on the sea, revealing deep coves and inlets with water a dark navy hue, yet it was somehow also translucent, revealing rocks far below the surface. A few boats bobbed into view as they swept around a turn. It looked as if they were floating on a sheet of blue glass. “What do you have to say?”
“I think I’m speechless.”
“I know the feeling.”
A bus lumbered toward them on the opposite side of the road, seeming to take up more than its fair share of the narrow lane. Zoe leaned to the right, and Jack downshifted, hugging the low rock wall on their right. The bus whipped by them and Zoe let out a breath.
The road snaked around a rock outcropping and a town came into view. “There’s Positano,” Jack said. A burst of color, houses in white, yellow, orange, and even red filled a crevasse in the mountains, spilling steeply down the hillside to a golden sweep of beach. The sea, dotted with boats of every size from rowboats to yachts, stretched out sparkling in the sun.
“Where’s Anna?” Jack asked.
“Oh!” Zoe checked the screen of the phone, which she’d been holding but had forgotten in her lap. “There she is,” she said with relief. “She’s left the main road and is in Positano.” The red dot traveled slowly along the twisty road, moving deep into the village. “She’s going slower.”
“We’ve got to catch up with her in case she stops and leaves the suitcase in the car.” Jack hit the gas, and they swooped along the narrow road. White stucco houses with flowering vines trailing down their walls swept by. They flew by shops with hanging baskets of lemons and tangerines, colorful clothes flapping in the breeze, spinning post card racks, and decorative painted tiles. Jack hit the brakes, screeching to a halt for a tour group slowly crossing the road then accelerated again. The road dipped down into the heart of the village, then rose again, winding back up through the far side where it would rejoin the road that skimmed along the coast.
“Wait. She’s stopped.”