Danny swallowed the last of his coffee before pushing back from the little table and rising. “I’ll be in touch. Enjoy your stay,” he said and then turned, walking away as if without a care in the world.
Steven and Natalie exchanged glances.
“What do you think?” Natalie asked.
“Who’s David?” Steven countered.
“The friend I told you about. His real name is Moody, but he uses different field names. In Italy, he’s David.” She paused. “What do you make of Danny?”
“Seems on the level, but smarmy. Maybe that’s good. I don’t trust him, but then again, I don’t trust anyone right now. As long as he doesn’t know anything more than we’re a mystery couple looking for a midnight rendezvous in the church, we should be fine.” Steven stopped. “Although I think it’s a rotten idea to stay at the apartment he’s lined up. That’s one of the weak links in this.”
“I trust Moody implicitly, Steven. We’ve been through a lot together.”
“Maybe, but we don’t know Danny from a taxi driver. Even if your Moody is pure as driven snow, if Danny isn’t, for any reason, we lose. I think I’d rather make my own arrangements. Call it an insurance policy,” Steven advised.
Natalie mulled over his point.
“Maybe you’re right. Let’s find someplace else.”
CHAPTER 18
Natalie and Steven settled in at the hotel they’d selected by the Spanish Steps plaza, a large, multi-storied affair in a renovated older building. Steven was in Natalie’s room, using the laptop, when her phone rang.
Danny explained to them that he’d found a contact at the church’s security company and had made an arrangement for three thousand dollars to get them half an hour alone in the middle level, on the understanding that they couldn’t take anything out and didn’t harm any of the art, subject to prosecution. A meeting was set for one a.m.. Danny offered to supply a ride if they wished, but Natalie declined. She told him they’d be at the side entrance of the church at one. Danny would meet them to ensure there were no last-minute problems at the basilica.
They ate at a little restaurant a block from the hotel that the manager had recommended and were pleasantly surprised to find it a world-class eatery. Both avoided any wine and instead had mineral water with dinner, prompting a sneer from the surly waiter.
Steven had studied the online blueprint of the site and plotted a rough circle that equated to a radius of six paces from the fresco. He hoped they would find something they’d missed in the crush of tourists on the tour, but the way things had been going, he wasn’t hopeful. A part of him believed this was all for naught, but he wouldn’t tell Natalie that. She’d had enough body blows in the last week, between her father dying and being hunted all over the planet.
When they returned to the hotel, they agreed to meet at twelve forty-five in the lobby. They silently rode up the elevator to their floors, lost in their separate thoughts. Back in his room, Steven brushed his teeth and took a fast shower, hoping to get some rest before their basilica adventure started. But once on his bed he found himself tossing and turning on the unyielding mattress, unable to sleep for the few hours before their rendezvous.
The prior time his life had been uprooted, he’d had Antonia to keep him company and partner with him on the journey, which made things easier. Now he was alone and in the same situation. There was no alternative he could see to abandoning everything.
Steven shifted uncomfortably on the bed, willing the unbidden thoughts away, but to no avail. His mind was racing on its own course, fueled by adrenaline in anticipation of the night’s forthcoming events. In spite of his best intentions, it wouldn’t be denied.
He could tell that Natalie hadn’t digested all the ramifications of their predicament until their discussion that afternoon. If Frank was as murderous as she’d said, and the Order was as persistent as could be expected, given their history, they’d never stop hunting them. No matter where he went or what he did, he would never be safe, nor would Natalie. She wasn’t his problem, but still, she had forced her way into his consciousness. Unfortunately, their discussion hadn’t yielded any insights into what she intended to do, other than reinforcing that she was playing it all by ear.
Much as he’d tried, Steven couldn’t figure Natalie out. She seemed tough as titanium, but with a vulnerable streak that flashed to the surface occasionally. That was a powerfully attractive combination to him, which was obvious, given how hard a time he had concentrating whenever she was near. It was probably for the best that there was no chance for them. The last thing Steven was looking for was any kind of a relationship — it was too soon after Antonia — but even so, he was intrigued by Natalie’s violet eyes and overall aesthetic.
But was it really too soon? An internal voice whispered the nagging question. It was approaching three years since the accident. Was it really too soon to be interested in another woman, or was that just an excuse for remaining disengaged, a spectator in life rather than a participant?
He rolled over, trying to banish the pointless speculations. She was too young for him, and he knew it. His mind was just punishing him with empty possibilities based on delusions of vitality.
At half past midnight, he pulled himself off the bed and changed into black slacks and a dark blue shirt, pulling on his lightweight black windbreaker as an afterthought. He automatically checked to ensure the room safe was secure as he pocketed his valuables, then closed the door behind him and descended to the lobby. Natalie was already waiting for him, now back to wearing her black suede jumpsuit. He tried not to notice how well she filled it out, but lost the battle when she walked ahead of him to the entry doors.
Frederick pulled up at the curb right on time. As they sped away, he wordlessly handed Natalie a small bundle of tools — a flathead screwdriver, a putty knife and a cordless battery-powered jeweler’s drill. She inserted the various items into her knee-high boots, which, while awkward, effectively concealed them. Steven watched her preparations with interest. They’d been told they couldn’t remove anything from the church, but nobody had said anything about what they could bring in. He hoped whoever they were paying off wasn’t too much of a stickler for formality.
They pulled to a stop around the corner from the side entrance of the basilica, the only vehicle on the deserted street. Steven and Natalie cautiously got out and proceeded up the block. When they turned the corner, they saw a single car parked at the far end of the building. Danny’s distinctive frame approached them from beneath one of the dim streetlights.
“Good evening. I trust this will work for you?” he asked.
“Perfect, Danny. I appreciate it,” Natalie said.
“I just handled the payment to security — we can settle up later. Now, remember the rules. No removing anything, no defacing the art. Beyond that, you have thirty minutes to explore or do whatever you like in the middle level. The guards will stay in the upper level, so you’ll have privacy, although they’ll do a quick tour with you once your time is up to confirm everything’s still there and that you didn’t damage anything. Is that all clear?” Danny warned.
“Don’t mess with the art. Don’t steal anything. I got it,” Natalie confirmed.
“That’s about it. I’ll introduce you to the guard and then I’m going home. We can meet tomorrow to handle the money. Good luck.”
They followed Danny to the side entrance, where a few minutes later a pale face peered at them through the bars. Danny fired off a soft burst of Italian, and the guard’s face relaxed. Seconds later, the lock turned and the old iron door creaked open. Danny nodded to them and left them to their devices, strolling casually back to his vehicle while lighting a cigarette.