“I was checking the layout in the hall. I think we need to go to a hotel to keep this on the up and up. Why don’t you pack a few things while I have a look around?”
She didn’t budge from the couch and looked awfully comfortable seated there. I couldn’t blame her. Being seated in the lap of luxury who would want to move?
She changed tactics on me. “Claudie, you still haven’t told me how you got here and what took you so long. Sal said he tried to contact you.”
I decided to level with her as she sat so magnificently on her throne surveying her queendom. “I met a man on the plane who helped me to find you but we ran into some trouble. Mr. Bellomo might be tied up in a scheme to steal Berengaria’s jewels. Have you seen some of the men he keeps company with?”
She giggled. “Of course, they do look like a rough bunch, but they’ve been absolute gentlemen with me. They are his bodyguards. Do you know he has had threats made on his life?” Then she frowned. “Are you saying he’s a thief? My Salvatore? How can he be in a scheme to steal jewels that don’t exist?”
Now we had possessiveness and disbelief involved. This was going to be harder than I thought. I could not appeal to reason, not that I had an open and shut case.
“But maybe the jewels do exist. Besides, do you want to marry someone who employs bodyguards?” This added a level of danger to her life that I didn’t think was computing with her. This group we were dealing with wasn’t stopping at a few statues and potsherds. They were going for the crown jewels. Berengaria of Spain had been a crown Princess, the intended of Richard I the Lionhearted, who married her right here in Limasol on his way to the third crusade.
“Sal said it wouldn’t be like this in Sicily.”
I rolled my eyes and was interrupted in my astonishment by a rap at the door.
“That will be Sal now. He said we would take a walk along the beach this afternoon.”
She got up to go to the door.
“Wait a minute,” I whispered. “Don’t tell him I’m here.”
“Why ever not?” she whispered back. “Claudie, I don’t understand your hesitation. Aren’t you happy for me? You haven’t congratulated me on my engagement.” She held up the rock and gazed at it fondly.
I grabbed her arms. “Look, humor me for now. You go for a walk. I’ll look around and come up with something.”
She smiled. “Good idea. I was looking forward to this walk with Sal.”
“Mum’s the word, right?”
“Okay, mum it is.” She giggled in delight at our big secret. “You can go into the bedroom and hide in there. I’ll be back.”
I disappeared into the bedroom and hid in a gargantuan closet that most people would call a room. I listened but couldn’t distinguish the conversation. The lovebirds must have been whispering to each other. I heard the door close and hoped I was alone and checked to be sure.
I did a quick search, looking for a phone. How could I be living in the 21st century and not have a phone? But there was not a one in the room which told me Aunt Elizabeth was not exactly a guest in the house. More like a hostage.
Hostage? The idea sent a chill through me. Bellomo might be holding her, thinking she would lead him to the jewels. On the bright side, I had found my aunt. She was unharmed and cheerful and engaged. Maybe.
Now I had to find Zach. Crazy as it sounded, since I had spent so much time trying to get away, I needed to talk to him because doubts were brewing in my brain. I was worried he looked so bad when he came in. Where had he gone this morning anyway?
I crept out of the room and down the hall, trying to get my bearings. I headed in the direction of the rooms I had shared with Zach. More rose and cream carpet lined the center of the white marble floors, making the hall look more like a hotel than a home. Recessed alcoves showcased statues of more Greek and Roman gods, goddesses and half-man-half-animal creatures, all looking quite authentic with chipped shoulders and missing noses. No Luigi guarded our door. Curious. I listened at the door. Not a sound, so I tried the handle, and the door swung open.
Zach lay stretched out on the couch fast asleep, or so it would seem from the way he was snoring. His mouth hung open at an odd angle. I rushed in and checked him over. A nasty swollen lip replete with dried blood accounted for the lop-sided quality of his mouth. It looked like he had been hit across the left side of his beautifully sculpted face, and his cheek and eye area were angry red. Scrapes on his knuckles indicated he had gotten in some licks of his own. His shirt was open down the front, and his exposed ribs were an ugly shade of purple.
I found ice, wrapped it in a cloth, sat on the floor in front of him, and put the ice pack against his lip.
He groaned. One eye inched open.
“Claudie,” he mumbled, not able to work his mouth very well. “Where have you been? You weren’t here when I got back.” He had trouble forming his words with the puffy lip and slurred his speech like a drunk.
“Right and what happened to you? Did you step on a rake?”
“Press that harder against my lip, will you? That’s good.”
“Where did you go? When I awoke, you were gone.”
“I left with Lucca.” He spoke in fits and starts. “We tried to find the taxi driver who took off last night and traced him to an unsavory neighborhood in Limasol.” His eyes fluttered shut.
I gently shook him. “Zach, wake up. Who drugged you?”
“What?” His eyes rolled around crazily as he tried to focus on me. “Lucca gave me something for the pain.”
“Must have been powerful stuff. What happened to you anyway? You look like you were run down by a semi.”
“We got into a little rumble with Bruno and the boys. Lucca pulled me out of the ruckus and got us both away. I was trying to find out who they are working for. It backfired on me.”
He slipped back into a doze.
I shook him again. “Zack, listen. I think I know who might be involved in Berengaria’s jewels. Wake up.”
He groaned into the couch.
What a time for him to be out cold.
I ran to the bar and searched the cupboard for coffee, got a pot going, drew a big glass of ice water, filled a bowl with same, soaked a towel and wrung it out. I carted towel and glass over to the coffee table and wrestled Zach into a sitting position which took a while since he was dead weight.
“No time to sleep now, Zach, dear. We need to talk.” I placed the towel around his neck and put the glass to his lips.
“Try to drink this.”
He curled his lips around the rim and slurped a few gulps, most of it dribbling down his chin. His eye was turning an unhealthy shade of magenta and, with his unshaved face, he looked decidedly derelict.
He gazed at me, bleary eyed.
“Zach, do you think you could walk?”
He wobbled at me like one of those dog statues on the back ledge of a car that bobbles its head as you drive by.
“Claudie, I can’t keep you focused. Forgive me for shutting my eyes. I’m afraid I’m no good to you right now.”
“Hold on.” I jumped up and rushed over to pour him a cup of black coffee.
“Here, it’s coffee, try to get some down. Maybe it will help you wake up.”
“Don’t want to wake up. Just want to sleep,” he said and flopped over. He mumbled into the couch.
I pushed him carefully over on his back so I could understand him.
“They know …” and the words slurred into a burble.
“What do they know?” I shook him. What was he trying to say?
“Claudie …”
“What Zach? Take your time. Tell me what you want to say. It’s important.”
“You need to get out of here. I’m sorry I pulled you into …” He drifted off.
I blew out a breath. This was exasperating. What was he trying to say?