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“For now. Until he’s free. Then he’ll resort to what he was doing before. His word is not worth anything. I do not trust him.”
“Then we’ll make contingency plans,” said Harper. “Lydia, we deal with these things a lot on our missions. We coordinate for Plan A, then have to go to Plan B, C, maybe even down to plan F when everything goes to hell. It’s how we cope with so many variables. All we can do is discover all the many paths to safety there are and cover all of them.”
He leaned over and kissed her forehead. She was grateful for his positive attitude, for his strength and warmth.
“I have to ask you guys something first,” she asked. It was a question she needed to know. “Did you know he was going to claim we’d had a relationship? Almost as if he thought we were a couple? Did something happen I don’t remember? Please tell me. Did something happen at the village I can’t remember?”
Both men were silent. Her worst fears started marching loudly. Her stomach lurched again. She felt Harper tense up as the admiral glanced over to him for the answer.
“Honey, we don’t know for sure. There is no evidence of that. We do believe he got you out of the village in time to spare you some of the things the other women had to endure. The honest truth is, we think he did save you from that. He’d spent a considerable amount of time organizing your exit and ultimate rescue. You getting shot, well, we weren’t sure until your interview.”
“So you knew he was going to claim this and you didn’t tell me?”
Harper hung his head. “I made a mistake.”
She pulled away from him and folded her arms on herself.
“Sweetheart, I had to weigh something very carefully. I showed you the tape, Lydia. I wanted to see if you remembered anything at all, and we’re convinced you didn’t. But what he thought, the ideas about him being able to take you from me, that you’d fall for him, I didn’t play that part of the tape. I realize now it was a mistake. I figured you didn’t need to know that. I knew that wasn’t real. Remember, I told you he’d say things to throw you off? And he did. Just goes to show he doesn’t really care about anybody but himself. He’s a desperate, dangerous conman. I had to have you do the interview to get him to reveal his plan.”
“If it makes any difference, Lydia, it was my recommendation,” said Admiral Patterson. “I share some of the blame. He was against it.”
Her heart began to soften, with one caveat. “Never again, Harper. You tell me everything, if I’m involved. Everything, understood? I don’t want any surprises.”
“Agreed. I made a terrible mistake. It was a judgment call, and I should have put you first. And you pulled it off, just like I hoped you would.” He rubbed her back. “Once again, Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”
“You put the nail in his coffin,” said Patterson.
She looked at the two of them. “I get it. But you need to know, I won’t stop worrying until that man is dead. I have a problem making a deal with a killer, even if it costs me dearly. We can’t live that way, Harper. Promise me you won’t forget that.”
He hugged her, and she heard his gentle sobs. “So sorry.”
She pulled away. “Enough.”
They explained that the Italian police were sending a detail from Florence, negotiated with the Italian Consul in D.C., who would be arriving within the week. Lipori would be transported to their custody.
“But let me ask you something, if you could, Lydia,” asked Admiral Patterson. He drew several pictures out of a portfolio of telephoto shots of the compound, the villa in Imprunetta. “Do you remember this couple?”
Lydia looked over the photo and did recognize them.
“Yes, they came to the villa many times while I was there. They were friends of Lipori. I thought perhaps she was a relative of his. This is Maria and Garfur. Maria was Italian, and Garfur—I don’t know, but he’s Middle Eastern, perhaps Turkish? I never knew, but he had a different accent, while Maria’s was definitely Italian.”
“Did you speak with them, talk to them at length?”
“Not really. They were Lipori’s friends. You remember, I didn’t have any friends. I was mostly busy in the garden.”
“Yes, but do you remember anything about what they were discussing when they were there? Any private conversations with them outside Lipori’s ears?” Patterson asked.
“She followed me once out to the garden and asked me where I learned how to tend one, and I told her it was just natural, I guess. I asked her if she had one, and she kind of laughed, said no. Never been taught. I remember feeling she was envious of me, for some reason.”
“Any other conversations?” he asked.
“Not that I can think of. No. They traveled a lot. They would come in for three or four days. Around olive harvest, a lot of the men came to help him do the pressing. They sold fresh olive oil, even internationally.”
“Look carefully at the picture, Lydia,” asked Harper. “Do they look familiar to you?”
She studied the two faces again then looked at several other photographs in the set. All of a sudden, it dawned on her. She had seen them before.
“Yes. They’re the couple from the store. I never saw their faces. But I’m sure of it. Same build. It’s them. Oh My God, that’s them!”
