Marked Masters (32 page)

"No, he has no idea who he's dealing with
when he messes with me. Especially if he thinks he can get Jack
arrested and thinks I'm going to simply walk away."

"This is so much bigger than you. You can't
imagine." She laughed again and nodded. "Why don't you just ask
Tony B for yourself what he thinks?"

I felt the gun barrel at my temple. It was
the Miami office all over again. I'd never heard him coming up
behind me. Before I could step away, his arm looped my waist and
tightened like steel, holding me tight against him, unable to
move.

"Yes, Laurel." I heard the laughter trapped
in Tony B's voice. "Why don't you ask me yourself if I'm afraid of
you? Or of Jack."

The only chance I had was to use
conversation to try to throw him off-balance. My knife was useless
with his gun to my head. I asked a question he wasn't
expecting.

"The only thing I really want to know is
what I did to piss off Moran."

"Huh?" His grip around my waist loosened for
a second, but not enough for me to risk trying to break free. He
said, "How should I know? I don't give a rat's ass what that old
man wants. I only care about what's going to make me rich and give
me power. And you've been a hitch to my plans much too often.
You've messed up things for months and never even knew it, just
kept sticking your nose in places it didn't belong and drawing
attention to people and events I needed to keep quiet. Letting too
many people know Tina isn't dead is just the latest. Now you've
even brought in a Miami detective to arrest her and take her back
to Florida. That's it. That's the last kink you're ever going to
put into my plans, Laurel Beacham."

"Who wanted Jack arrested? You or Moran?" I
pushed, ignoring what he'd already said.

He whirled me around to face him, stepping
back to aim the gun at my heart. "What's this Moran shit? You think
I work for that creaky old bastard?" He spit on the floor. "Stop
thinking, Laurel. You know nothing and will soon know even less."
He wrenched the knife from my hand. "But you will not be screwing
up my plans anymore, and I will never again have to restage things
because of your crap-ass way of walking in at the wrong time. I
should have killed you in my office right away, but I wanted to
show you the damned Sebastians first. That's my good nature biting
me in the ass once again."

The room was warm, even with the balcony
doors open, and the stocking cap made sweat run into my eyes. I
thought of how brave Jack had looked, standing in the palazzo as
the
carabinieri
marched him away, and hoped I could stay
half as strong. Just the fact that Tony used military connections
instead of the more local
polizia
scared me. How much more
could Jack be going through at that very moment? Who did this thug
have in his pocket, and how far would he go?

Tony B kept whining on, but I'd stopped
listening. I looked over my shoulder at Tina, still on the floor,
her hands cuffed, forgotten by the man she'd decided was her savior
as he went on with his monologue and his power trip. Nevertheless,
she smirked at me. She might be tossed aside tomorrow, but right
then she was on the winning team.

For the millionth time I wished I'd listened
to Jack as he'd lectured in the Town Car. If I ever had another
chance I would—

CRASH!

The window behind us shattered. Tina
screamed. Tony B wheeled around to shoot. I saw the grappling hook
lying atop the glass and a figure at the end of the balcony. As
Tony B aimed, he loosened his grip enough that I could pull free as
he squeezed off his first shot. A cry for Nico lodged in my throat.
But it wasn't Nico. Jack was knocked against the balcony railing
and crumpled to the floor.

Tony B aimed his gun at Jack's head.

"No!"

I high-kicked his gun hand, and the Beretta
flew from his grip and skittered across the room. My next kick
slammed his chest. He staggered, off guard, and I smashed his nose
with my fist. Blood spurted through his fingers as he held up his
hands to protect his face from another blow. I aimed my next kick
for his balls but changed direction when I noticed Tina scooting
toward the gun.

"Oh, no, you don't." I dove in the same
instant she scuttled closer to the weapon. It was a photo finish,
but I came away with the gun in my hand.

"Over there," I shouted at her, my adrenalin
level likely through the roof. "Next to your favorite asshole." She
didn't move fast enough, and I shot wide to get her attention.
"Over there, I said. The next shot won't be a miss!"

She got as close to Tony B as a second skin.
I kept the gun trained on both of them as I walked backward,
crunching glass, to check on Jack. I felt tears on my cheeks, and
that made me even more livid. Appearing weak in front of that rat
bastard Tony B was the last thing I wanted to do.

As I got next to Jack, he rose up, and the
relief I felt was almost overwhelming.

"Jack, are you—"

He grabbed the gun from my hand and jerked
my arm, then kicked my legs out from under me. I hit the floor of
the balcony as a flying object slammed into the balustrades where
I'd been standing. Simultaneously, I heard Jack fire a shot over my
body. When I looked to see what had flown toward me, I discovered
my knife.

"Why aren't any of his men coming to find
out what happened?" Below us I could hear Nico hollering for us to
send down the rope, but my brain wasn't working well enough yet to
comply.

"Everyone's gone." Jack's voice was weak but
steady. "Tony B sent them away, planning to take care of you
himself. That was our tip-off to move in. All the cars leaving, but
you and Tina still inside." He used the railing to pull himself to
his feet and held his ribs with one hand as he moved closer to our
captives. He waved the gun toward the grappling hook and rope, and
said, "Hang this on the rail for Nico."

I moved then, finally realizing things were
going to work out in our favor. But while Jack was mobile, he
wasn't unscathed. "I take it you're wearing a Kevlar vest." I
tossed the end of the rope to Nico.

"Yeah, no blood, but at least one broken
rib. Probably two."

"Where have you been? And how did you know
to come here?"

He kept the gun trained on Tina and Tony B.
"The first question would take too long to explain. I'll just say
it was a good thing this asshole tapped military connections. That
helped me tremendously." He took a couple of shallow breaths, then
said, "Regarding your second question, I was in Pisa keeping an eye
on—" He motioned the gun toward Tony B. "I picked up enough
conversation, and saw the quick move out, and knew something was
happening back here."

"I'm glad you did." I moved next to him and
put an arm around his waist. He was flagging fast.

Nico came up behind him and took the gun. In
the distance we could hear the bebop of Italian sirens. "Get him
out of here," Nico said then aimed at a spot near the ceiling and
fired. Plaster flew as the bullet buried itself in the wallboard.
"I will take care of this, Jack. Hurry."

"But you'll be arrested," I said. "I'll tell
them I shot him."

"I am Italian—you are not," Nico reminded,
speaking quietly. "Take off your gloves and bury them in your chalk
pack to hide the gunshot residue. I will be fine. Max will get
someone good to represent me."

"No."

Jack squeezed my arm and spoke softly. I
hoped it was only to keep the other two from overhearing what was
said and not because he was more hurt than he admitted. "Help me
get off the balcony. That's faster than going through the house.
Then stay here with Nico as a witness. He's right. He already has
gunshot residue on his skin. If you don't stay and back up his
story as self-defense, Tony B could twist it around with Tina's
help."

As we reached the balustrade, I leaned down
to pick up the knife, but Jack stopped me. "Leave it. And make sure
you and Nico say Tony B threw the knife at Nico, not you. It needs
to be a self-defense plea, even though I only hit him in the
shoulder."

I nodded and climbed over the railing before
giving the grappling hook another good tug and reaching a hand out
to Jack. He clasped my fingers, holding onto the railing as I
guided his hand toward the rope. Then we descended in a kind of
reverse piggyback style so I could keep Jack from an accidental
free fall.

The sirens were close by the time we hit the
grass.

He gave me a careful hug. "Thank you. Now,
get back up there."

"In a minute." I pulled my cell phone out of
the side pocket of the fanny pack and started thumbing through my
contacts. "Do you have a passport?"

"Yes, I have a passport. I'll get away.
Don't worry."

I held up a finger for silence as my call
started ringing at the other end. "Clive? Can you hear me?"

"Laurel, love, are you ready to fly with us
again? We're leaving Rome in a few minutes and heading back to
England," the roadie replied.

I smiled. "Not yet. I have a little more
business to take care of first. But I have a friend who could
really use your concierge service."

"A friend, you say?"

"Yes, and you might recognize him. You
snapped enough pictures of him at Gatwick," I said.

"That bloke? The one what got 'em?"

"Yes, the very one. His name is Jack
Hawkes," I said. "I'm giving him this phone. Call my number when
you get to the Florence airport so he'll be able to find the right
gate."

"Will do. Gotta go, Laurel. Still a few
things to do before takeoff."

"For me too, Clive. And thank you."

I cut the connection and handed the phone to
Jack. We could now see the flashing lights coming up the road.

"You heard what I said."

"Yes."

"Be careful," I warned. "And you'd better be
in London when I get back there. Any more disappearing acts and
I'll get seriously pissed off at you."

He gave a tired laugh. "I'll try."

"Do better than try. You want me to trust
you. Give me a reason to. We have a lot of work ahead of us, and if
I'm short Nico while this all gets dealt with, I'm going to be
counting double on you."

I knew he hated being told what to do, but I
didn't care. When he gave me his stubborn-jaw look, I reflected it
right back at him until he said, "I'll do my best."

Squad cars filled the circle drive,
producing a carnival air as Jack disappeared into the shadows. I
scrambled back up the rope and slid next to Nico just as Detective
Roblo entered the bedroom. Five more Italian officers following
close on his heels.

I pointed to Tina. "Glad you could make it,
Detective. There's your dead girl, alive and breathing."

* * *

Too many hours later I finally returned to
the hotel room alone. Jack and Clive both texted me when their
plane landed in London: Jack to say he was home and feeling fine,
and Clive to tell me that Jack needed medical attention. I set
Cassie to work making sure the big lug saw a doctor. The objective
was both to take care of Jack and to keep her busy so she wouldn't
worry as much about Nico. I was worrying enough for both of us.

Nico was allowed to call Max, and then he
told me to leave after my interview was over. I wanted to stay, to
camp out, to yell, and to scream—but I did what he asked since it
truly was for the best. Max would take care of things. He was good
at dealing with these kinds of messes. Primarily because it gave
him terrific ammunition to use when he wanted to yell about
something later.

In all, we'd made a good second step. We'd
found the snuffbox and learned Simon had possession of it at some
point after the Greek was killed. We still didn't know the
significance of the number from the safe-deposit box, but we had it
in our possession, so when our searches eventually turned up the
mystery it could unlock, we were good to go. I had to believe that
anyway.

Tina awaited extradition to Florida as an
accessory to murder, and Roblo was set to escort her back on the
first available flight. Tony B was fighting extradition at the
moment, probably because they wanted to charge him with Phyllis's
murder, and he faced a death penalty risk in Florida. But I really
wondered if the killer wasn't actually Tina. I still remembered her
"Who cares?" and shivered a little at the memory. I said as much to
Roblo, and he agreed.

However, Tony B wasn't just letting his
lawyer do his fighting. With the knowledge that Jack was free, the
thug realized he didn't have the clout he'd originally thought, and
Roblo said the slimy toad was making quiet noises about trading
information for a suspended sentence. I wondered who Tony B was
turning on, but it certainly didn't surprise me that he chose this
route. He had to know about the counterfeiting operation, which
would likely intrigue Italy enough for officials to try to keep
him. His suggestive actions also put a finer point on what Jack and
I had already decided—that he wasn't in charge. I just wondered if
any evidence he gave would be the truth.

Who would Tony B finger as the top man? I
thought about Jack and my rooftop excursion, and the dead body, the
guns, and the counterfeits in triplicate that we discovered there.
Had Moran branched out into more than masterpieces? Or was it like
Jack suspected, and Rollie was spreading his wings?

Or was it what we'd thought originally,
someone or some group that had no affiliation with Moran and who
would be harder to catch because they were unknown?

Roblo promised to share any information he
could with me, and I urged him to push the interrogations extra
hard. I think he was feeling guilty about Tony B getting tipped off
by his coordinating with the Pisa police. I forgave Roblo for the
misstep as soon as I saw Jack on the balcony, but I wasn't going to
admit that to either of them. I needed all the intel I could get,
and Tony B might actually let something important slip. I also
needed to learn what Jack discovered when I thought he was in jail
but was actually staking out Tony B's Italian organization.