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“If he’s half as good as his boss and even half as endowed, that wasn’t an idle threat,” laughed Claire.
“That was kind of my thought, as well. Nope, we’re better off going to Naples where we can pig out on good bread, butter, cheese, and all kinds of delectable pasta dishes. We can drink lots of wine…”
“We don’t like wine.”
“That’s beside the point. So, we can get drunk and bemoan our fates as spinsters—noble ones, but single and unfulfilled, as well.”
The seatbelt signs flashed on, and the flight attendants began their spiel about electronic devices, emergency exits, and the like. Both Claire and Mia put everything in airplane mode.
Claire took Mia’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”
The plane pulled away from the ramp and taxied out onto the runway. It lifted off as it gained speed and made its ascent into an azure sky with white cotton candy clouds before it banked south toward Italy.
A little more than three hours later they touched down at Naples International Airport. Since they only had carry-on luggage and Italian passports and identification, getting past customs and security was fairly easy. The customs guy wanted to search Mia’s bag that held her laptop and a bunch of feminine hygiene products—which tended to deter extensive searching by male customs agents.
Once outside, they hailed a cab and took it into the city where they did some grocery shopping before walking down to the warehouse along the dock where they kept a small, white Fiat Panda. Its size made it easy to maneuver throughout Italy’s notorious traffic and most of its narrow streets. It was by far the most popular make and color, allowing them to blend in. They’d had custom work done on the vehicle, improving the engine to make it more robust and give them more speed, and they had reinforced the frame and beefed up the four-wheel drive. None of that could be seen from the outside, but if they were ever chased, it would give them a decided advantage.
Loading the little car took a bit of doing, as they had not only the things they had brought with them from lives they had left behind, but all of the groceries they had just purchased. The good news was that the gorgeous penthouse they’d purchased was sleek and modern and looked nothing like either of their homes in England. It looked out overFaraglioni Rocksand the sea beyond. At a bit over two thousand square feet, it boasted two bedrooms, two and a half baths, and was decorated in an Italian coastal style with sun-drenched colors and comfortable furnishings. It was also equipped with state-of-the-art hardware, including an alarm system as well as computer, audio, and visual systems.
Everything a twenty-first-century thief needed to plan her next heist and figure out not only how to thwart Fletch, but the person who was trying to kill Claire and most likely would think nothing of taking Mia out, as well. Walking into the penthouse, Claire couldn’t help but catch her breath, missing her home, her horses, and Fletch in spite of her new home’s grandeur.
“We can always go back home,” Mia said quietly. “He loves you. He’ll probably be pissed, but a few rounds in the sack, and he’ll be back up on his white charger determined to protect and save you.”
Claire shook her head. “No. There’s still too much to do. Did you have a chance to take a look at the people who might be gunning for me?”
“I did. Why don’t you make us something yummy and I’ll get everything set up. I have to tell you I did a lot of this research with Carter.”
“What about Emil Franklin?” asked Claire as she made bruschetta as well as a quick tray of bread, meats, and cheeses, putting all of it and a couple of beers on the coffee table before sinking into the down-filled sofa.
“He’s a real beauty. His father was a Nazi collaborator in Paris. His mother was one of the jackdaws that operated within the resistance.”
“Jackdaws?”
“A group of women from the allied countries. They were sent in to infiltrate the Nazi command structure. She was English, and he ended up protecting and escaping with her to the Netherlands, where they just faded into the countryside.”
“How could they do that? The Netherlands wasn’t any more fond of ex-Nazis than any other place in Europe.”
“Ah, yes, but he had loot and lots of it. The rumor is, that’s how the Petacci family got the Grenadine Necklace and old man Hardison got the Clarion. Franklin believes they belong to his family, and he wants them back.”
“The fact that his father took them from victims that were sent to concentration camps apparently doesn’t bother him.”
“Not one damn bit. Carter was adamant about staying away from him. He’s got ties to the Nazis, the bratva, and thepenose—that’s the Netherlands’ answer to organized crime.”
“Charming. Any other contenders?”
“A couple, but Carter said, and I agree with him, that Franklin is the most likely suspect.”
“But why now?”
“Because of the Grenadine. Carter said Fletch told him he’d made threats. Apparently, there was bad blood between Franklin and your grandfather. There were several other pieces returned by your grandfather that Franklin considered his legacy. The fact that your granda had irrefutable provenance to go along with them just pissed off Franklin that much more.”
Claire nodded, “And since Poppi is dead, the sins of the grandfather shall be visited on me.”
“You should know, Carter said Fletch isn’t convinced that Sir Godfrey’s father killed your parents. He isn’t convinced that he didn’t, but again, he thinks Franklin might be good for their murder.”
Claire leaned back against the sofa, closed her eyes and groaned. “This just gets better and better. Did Carter tell you Fletch and Evangeline used to be an item?”
“He did. He was also quick to say it was never really serious. Fletch had thought about marrying her because they were good in bed together, got along fairly well, and she’s connected. And before you think ill of him, she felt the same way. Carter has known Fletch a long time and he said he’s never known Fletch to feel even half of what he feels for you, and he’s never heard him tell a woman—even Evangeline—that he loved her.”
