“I let her go, she walks out of here. You get me.”
“An interesting offer. But I have the advantage. My gun pointed at you.”
“And no less than four police you’d have to explain the gunshots to, and how she ended up here, when they’re looking for her down there,” he said, nodding at the police vehicles still visible down at the edge of the cliff, never mind those parked in the drive at the front of the house.
“My cousin was wrong about you. You do have a weakness.” Leonardo smiled. “Throw your handgun toward me, and your offer is accepted.”
Sydney stirred in his arms. “What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Doing what you did for me this afternoon.” Louder, to Leonardo, he said, “I’m going to lower her down. If you want my cooperation, you’ll get me the key to the Lancia, then let her walk over to her car, get in, lock the doors, then drive off.”
“Why not let her go back inside?” Leonardo said with a smirk.
“With her gown muddied and torn? You know how vain women can be. The key?”
“It’s in the car.”
He lowered Sydney to the ground, held her gaze, then nodded toward the Lancia, afraid that if he said anything further, they’d try to stop her, maybe even suspect his next move, which, considering he didn’t know what the hell he was going to do next, was laughable. Right now, he wanted Sydney safe.
Keeping his hands up and visible, he watched as Sydney ambled toward the car, using the other vehicles to balance. She opened the door, sat inside, then pulled the door closed. He heard the lock engage, then turned his attention to Leonardo and the guard.
A second later the car alarm pierced the air. Startled, Leonardo and the guard pointed their weapons at Sydney, who had opened the door, engaging the alarm. She slammed it shut as Griffin dove, scrambled for cover.
“We’ll kill her!” he heard Leonardo shout to him over the alarm.
Griffin ducked behind the front end of a limo, angling himself so the engine block stood between him and them. His weapon drawn, he watched their reflections in the rear windshield of the car to the front of him. They were walking forward, searching for him. When they passed by the car he was hiding behind, he moved toward Sydney and the Lancia. He was a car length from it when several uniformed police came running out of the house to investigate the cause of the alarm.
Their shouts in Italian alerted Leonardo and the guard, who turned just as Griffin stood, tucked his gun at the back of his waistband, then raised his hands. He glanced toward the house, saw that several of the guests had followed the police out, as had Carlo Adami.
Griffin continued to walk toward the Lancia. “My wife had a little too much to drink,” he said in Italian, loud enough for the cops to hear. “She stumbled and fell and accidentally set off the car alarm.” One hand held high and visible for the police, he slowly lowered the other, and opened the car door. “The alarm,” he told Sydney. When she shut it off, he looked up at the men on the porch, and again in Italian, said, “My apologies, Signore Adami, for giving everyone a scare. But after tonight’s earlier accident, you wouldn’t want her to drive home alone, now, would you?”
Adami glanced at his cousin, then back to Griffin, his gaze narrowing. After a moment of sizing up the situation, Adami smiled. “You are wise to be concerned for her welfare, Signore Griffin. But perhaps she should not be behind the wheel?”
“Of course.” Griffin leaned into the car, not about to let Sydney out, exposed in her condition, and have someone point out that she looked like the woman who ran from the party and jumped in a stolen car. “Do me a favor, dear. Could you slide over the console into the passenger seat?”
Sydney scooted up onto the console, then over. The moment she was in her seat, Griffin waved to Adami, and in English, said, “Good night, and thank you for the invite.”
Adami gave a brittle smile, then turned back into the house. Leonardo glared at Griffin as Griffin closed the door, locked it, started the engine, then drove off.
“Thank you,” he told Sydney.
“Likewise. Don’t suppose you have any aspirin?”
“You’re probably going to need it. Don’t suppose you remember when your last tetanus shot was?”
“No.”
“Lucky you. Hear they hurt worse than anything else. We’re going to the hospital, have you looked over.”
She didn’t argue.
As they drove past the guardhouse, he saw one of the guards on the phone, watching them as they drove past. No doubt he was speaking to one of the Adamis, letting them know they’d driven by. He checked his rearview mirror. So far no one was following them. He didn’t think that would last; even so, he drove carefully down the winding road as they approached the turn to the cliffs, slowing at the flares the police had set out to warn other drivers of their presence.
He glanced over, saw Sydney look out the window at the police cars, then turn away, closing her eyes. He didn’t ask her about it, figured she’d tell him when she was ready.
And he was right. When they were halfway down the hill, she said, “The guard shot at us as we drove through the gate. The window shattered, but I thought it was okay. He was still driving…” He heard a deep intake of breath before she continued. “He wouldn’t answer me-”
Griffin looked over at her, saw her staring out the windshield, her gaze empty. “He was shot?”
“I don’t know. It could have been the gate, we drove through…Hit the roof. I don’t know.”
“What happened?” he finally asked.
“When he didn’t respond, I steered the car into the trees. I didn’t want to go over the cliff…Next thing, someone was dragging me from the car. That’s the last thing I remember until I woke up in that room.”
“You did the right thing.”
“But that’s just it. I shouldn’t have done this…I didn’t want to leave him.”
“I know,” he said, checking his rearview mirror to see if they were followed. So far nothing.
“Why did you come back for me?”
“I found your bracelet in the road.”
“I thought-”
“Sometimes we break the rules that need to be broken.”
He checked the mirrors again, still no sign of a tail. Normally that would be a good thing, but right now it bothered him. Adami wasn’t one to give up so easily. So what was his next move?
And then it struck him.
The car might be at the bottom of the lake, but Adami had Tex.
16
In the security room of the Smithsonian, Special Agent Tony Carillo scooted closer to the monitor, trying to get a better view of the woman standing near a display on the Templar Knights in the Smithsonian. She was young, early twenties, wearing a UVA alumni sweatshirt, similar to what Fitzpatrick had described. The girl seemed particularly interested in something in the display case, but from his angle, he couldn’t see what. After a couple of minutes, she walked a few feet, asked a security guard a question, and he pointed in the opposite direction. She turned, walked that way, was met by a man of East Indian descent, and both disappeared into a doorway. That was the last time either was seen on any of the tapes.
“What was she looking at? Or for?” he asked the head of security for the Smithsonian.
“This would have been a traveling display…” He consulted a calendar. “Templar Knights and the Holy Crusade. Relics, armor, that sort of thing.”
“Anything the world hasn’t seen before?”
“Not that I could tell. The display will be here a couple more days, if you want to see it, then it’s back to France.”
“And what’s that she’s holding?”
“The catalog. She would have purchased it from the gift shop. I have a copy here,” he said, handing Carillo a
