Fatal Cover-Up

Irritated, he headed back to the apartment building. He needed to make sure Talia was really okay. A minute later he pressed the number of her apartment, waited for her to buzz him back into the building and headed up again to the fifth floor. His mind worked to sort through the few bits of information he had. Reopening the case had triggered someone to go after the paintings. But who? It had to be someone who believed that at some point Thomas had possession of them. Which led him back to his original theory. Whoever was after the paintings had most likely been there the night Thomas had been murdered.

When Talia opened the apartment door for him, she was on her cell phone. She signaled for him to wait a moment, then turned away, but not before he caught the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Shelby, as soon as you get this message, call me.” She dropped her phone onto the kitchen counter, then caught his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey...it’s okay. He’s gone.” He couldn’t blame her for being terrified. It was one thing to have someone snatch your bag in public, but having someone invade the privacy of your home with a weapon was going to take a lot longer to forget. “I’m going to use some of my connections with the Italian police and find a way to track this guy down. We’ve got a good description—”

“No.” She was crying harder now. “It’s not okay. He threatened my sister. He’s got surveillance photos of her at her house, and at her job...”

“Listen, I know this is hard, but I need you to tell me exactly what happened,” he said. “And we will figure this out. I promise.”

She grabbed a tissue off the counter. “I can’t get a hold of my sister. If anything happens to Shelby because of this I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Show me the photos.”

He followed her into the bedroom, where she sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up one of the pictures. “There are ones of Shelby outside the school where she works in Dallas, outside her house...”

Joe flipped through the photos, understanding her concern. Someone had killed her husband, and now they’d shown her that they could get to both Talia and her sister.

Joe pulled out his own phone. They needed to find a way to put an end to this. “If you’ll give me her address, I’ll have someone sent to her place right now. And if she’s not there, I’ll make sure they track her down and ensure she’s okay.”

She grabbed a piece of paper and a pen off her desk and started writing down the address. “The man gave me seventy-two hours to come up with the paintings.”

“And if you can’t?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but they’re clearly not playing games.” She glanced back at the photos. “I also called Thomas’s mother. I described the paintings and she thinks she remembers seeing them. If she does still have them, the artwork is probably somewhere in my in-laws’ apartment.”

He started to touch her arm, then pulled back at the intimate gesture, wishing she didn’t look so vulnerable. But he knew what it was like to have the life of a sibling threatened. Knew what it was like to lose a brother. And personal or not, he was going to make certain neither she nor her sister were hurt.

“We’re going to find those paintings, and ensure nothing happens to either one of you in the meantime.”

She blew her nose again. “You can’t guarantee that.”

“Maybe not.” He hated the fact that she was right. “But I can promise that I’ll do everything in my power to stop whoever’s behind this.”

* * *

While Joe started making calls on his cell phone, Talia hurried to shut and lock both the balcony and the front door. Not that closing up the apartment made her feel safe. A man had already found a way to break in to her house. Which meant she wasn’t sure she’d ever feel safe here again. Not only was her life being threatened, but now her sister was also potentially in danger. And all because of some missing paintings She glanced at the clock, then redialed Shelby’s number. Texas was seven hours behind Rome, so there was a good possibility she had her phone off while she was teaching, assuming Shelby was okay. She hoped that Joe would be able to keep his promise, and that everything would be fine. But she knew firsthand that sometimes things didn’t turn out the way you wanted them to.

Joe talked on his phone while pacing in her living room. There was something surprisingly calming about his presence. But the reality was that he was a complete stranger, and the captain’s call had only managed to erase some of her doubts concerning the FBI agent. And yet somehow Joe Bryant was still managing to take the edge off her panic.

She closed her eyes, unable to get rid of the constant flood of memories. Not long after Thomas’s death, the chief had given her a box of his personal things. At the time, she’d felt too betrayed to do anything more than glance through the belongings before she got rid of most of what was inside. Thankfully, a friend of hers had advised her not throw away everything that reminded her of him, just because of her strong feelings of betrayal. She’d gone with the advice and had kept a few things, which she’d transferred to a smaller container then mailed the rest in a box to her mother-in-law in Venice.

And then she’d done her best to forget about it. Until now.

She glanced around the small apartment. There was really only one place it could be. She found the small, nondescript box under her bed behind a suitcase.

She lifted off the lid and felt a rush of emotion sweep through her. On the top was their wedding invitation, a black card with white-and-teal print. Beneath that were photos from their honeymoon to Ireland, the watch she’d given him for their first anniversary and their wedding rings. And along with these symbols were everything she’d thought they’d promised each other.

For better, for worse.

For richer, for poorer.

To love and to cherish.

Till death do us part.

She’d worked to put her past behind her, but now everything she’d tried to forget had risen to the surface, making her wonder if she was ever going to be truly free. She dug through the rest of the box until she touched the thin sheet of tissue paper in the very bottom. There were no postcards. No paintings.

“Talia?”

Joe’s voice broke into her thoughts and pulled her back into the present.

“I just got off the phone with a friend of mine in Dallas. He’s sending out a patrol call to your sister’s house right now and promised to tell me as soon as they find her.”

She set down the box next to her, hoping it was going to be enough to keep her sister safe. “Thank you.”

“I also called a contact of mine here in Italy. He’s with the Italian version of the FBI’s art crime team, the Carabinieri art squad.”

“I think I’ve heard of them.”

“They deal with art theft, damage to monuments and archaeological zones. Anyway, he’s promised to help look into the case and see if he might be able to track down our hooded thief.”

“He’s here in Rome?” she asked.

“He has an office here, but he’s currently at an archeological site, doing some monitoring. He’s promised to see what he can find out.” Joe glanced at the box sitting next to her. “What are you doing now?”

“Looking through the few things I kept after Thomas’s death. The paintings aren’t here.”

Which meant they had to be in Venice.

She stood, then grabbed a backpack from her closet and started packing. She couldn’t stay here anyway. Not when they knew where she lived. She could take a train north to Venice. Her mother-in-law might be somewhere basking in the beauty of Scandinavia but Thomas’s brother had a key and would let her in.

“Wait a minute,” Joe said. “What are you doing?”

“I can get a key to my in-law’s house from Thomas’s brother. If the paintings are there, I should be able to find them.”

“In Venice?”

She nodded.

“Then I’m coming with you.”

She dropped a pair of comfy flats into the bag. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I do. Your husband was more than likely killed over these paintings, and now both you and your sister have been threatened. You need me.”

“Okay,” she said, surprised at how relieved she felt at his offer. She might not trust him completely, but as far as she knew he was on her side. “I’ve got a Metro pass. We can take the subway to the main train station and be in Venice later tonight.”

“I’ll need to grab a few things from my hotel on the way,” he said, “but that won’t take long.”

She nodded, the lingering anxiety still twisting in her gut.

She filled up the rest of the backpack with a couple of changes of clothes. They could be in Venice in a few hours, then all she had to do was find the artwork, and all of this would be over.

FOUR

Joe checked his phone again as Talia grabbed clothes out of a dresser drawer, wondering if he’d just made the right decision. No messages. He probably should have insisted she stay and let him head to Venice and see if he could find the paintings on his own. He could easily call in for backup from either the FBI or someone from the local law enforcement right here in Rome. Someone who could stay with her and ensure her safety somewhere off the grid, where she couldn’t be found.

But there were two things that stopped him from making that suggestion. One, she knew far better than he did where to look for the paintings, which meant they would probably find them much faster together than if he was searching on his own. And with the clock ticking in this situation, he didn’t have the luxury of time on his side. And two, going together to Venice meant he’d be able to keep an eye on her himself. Besides, from what he’d learned about her from their brief time together, he had a feeling she never would have agreed to stay put here in Rome and do nothing.

Which meant all he could do was pray he’d made the right decision. He glanced at her as she dropped her passport into her bag and caught the determined set of her chin. He was right about one thing—she wouldn’t have stayed here in Rome no matter how he tried to convince her. This situation might be personal for him, but it was personal to her, as well. And the bottom line was he’d rather be the one looking out for her than someone he didn’t know.

“Any messages yet?” She swung her backpack over her shoulder and let out a deep breath.

“Nothing yet,” he said. “But we’ll hear from them soon. I promise.”

“Okay. Then I think I’m ready.”

He hesitated in the doorway and caught her gaze. “We’re going to find those paintings, Talia, along with whoever’s behind this.”

“I hope so.”

They headed out of her apartment and down the narrow staircase leading back down to the first floor of her building. He’d caught the worry along with doubt in her voice, and understood that feeling. He knew what it was like to lose a sibling, and he was going to do everything in his power to keep both her and her sister safe.

Which he would. The Dallas police department would watch out for Shelby, and he’d keep track of Talia. Because seriously, how much trouble could she get into riding the train north to the century-old city? They’d arrive in Venice, make contact with her brother-in-law, then search for the paintings. And if all went well, they’d find what they were looking for.

He had local Italian law enforcement looking for the man who’d broken into her apartment. Once they found and interrogated him, they’d find out who was behind this. And he’d be able to close the case. Simple. And once they discovered all the players in this, he’d have the answers he needed to know who’d murdered his brother.

As long as they did it all within seventy-two hours. He glanced at Talia. The problem was no case involving money, greed and murder was ever simple. And whoever was behind this had already killed at least once. Which only raised the stakes.

Once they reached the bottom of the staircase, Joe opened the door and stepped back out on the noisy street and bright sunlight. A rush of hot, humid air surrounded him.

He stopped on the sidewalk as the door clicked shut behind them and he scanned the busy street for signs of the man who’d broken in to Talia’s apartment. No one looked familiar, but he could be anywhere. Watching them from inside one of the other buildings or from the rooftop. Which was why for the moment he was going to focus on getting her safely to Venice and count on the local police to track down their assailant.

“This way,” he said, turning left at the light.

Talia paused on the sidewalk. “The subway’s straight ahead.”

“I know, but I think it’s safer to go the long way in case we have a tail.” Joe grabbed her hand and picked up his pace. If someone was following them, he planned to lose them before they ever hit the transit system. “It’s just a precaution.”

But while he didn’t want her to worry, he certainly felt on edge. He searched the crowded streets, looking for anyone that seemed familiar or was acting suspicious. He felt her fingers clench tighter around his, escalating his need to protect her. He knew what it was like to lose someone close to you. And he didn’t want it to happen to her again.

There was no sign of anyone following them as he led them down a narrow cobblestone lane, but he wasn’t willing to take any chances. Because what he did know is that someone was out there, watching, and at this point he had no idea who it was.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. Just scared.”

There was fear in her eyes when she glanced up at him. Her vulnerability tugged at him, but he wasn’t going there. Not this time. She was vulnerable, but he had no intention of taking advantage. He was an agent and this was a case. Nothing more.

“It’s like a game of cat and mouse,” she said, barely above a whisper as they continued walking.

“The subways should be just a couple blocks back. If whoever is after the paintings is watching, it’s more than likely they are going to assume we’re headed to the main train station. But there’s no reason to make this easy on them.”

Five minutes later, he could see the sign again for the public transport. Talia was still looking behind them as they walked, clearly afraid that the man who’d broken in to her apartment was on their tail. He clutched her hand tighter.

She shivered next to him as they took the stairs down into the subway. “I can’t shake the feeling someone’s following us.”

“Do you think you saw him?”

“I don’t know. I keep thinking I do. Like I said, I might just be paranoid, but it makes sense they’d keep track of my every move if they think I have the paintings.”

Joe glanced behind them as they went through the ticket barrier and punched their subway passes. He looked up at the ticker board as they walked onto the platform. There was two minutes until the next train appeared. It was crowded, which hopefully meant that if anyone had followed them, they wouldn’t try anything, but that hadn’t stopped their assailant from grabbing her bag at the Colosseum.

A group of Japanese tourists huddled near the edge of the platform. A woman pushed a stroller past them. A businessman talked on his phone.

“He’s here.” Talia grabbed his arm.

“Where?”

“A dozen yards or so behind us.”

“Okay, I spotted him.” Joe grabbed her hand. “Stay close to me, but keep an eye on him. Let’s see if he follows us onto the train.”

The platform was so congested they barely had enough space to move as the throng pressed toward the yellow line. The lights of the subway on the opposite side of the tracks shot through the darkness of the tunnel. Seconds later, the subway car rushed by, followed by the squealing of brakes as it came to a stop.

They still had another minute until their train arrived.

“He just slipped behind a pole,” she said.

One second she was there beside him, the next second she was gone.

“Talia...” He scanned the platform for a glimpse of her pink shirt, but she’d already disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

Talia heard Joe calling her name, but she ignored his plea and instead pushed her way across the Metro platform toward where she’d last seen the man. Something inside her had snapped. He’d broken in to her apartment, and as much as she wanted to get away from him, she needed to put a stop to this. This man had threatened not just her, but her sister, as well. She couldn’t erase the photos he’d sent her from her mind, either. The one of Thomas’s body. The one of her and Joe sitting at the café. Someone was determined to get what they wanted, but she was just as determined to put a stop to all of this.

Except she’d lost him.

She searched the crowd, breathing in the smell of cigarette smoke and body odor brought on from the hot summer temperature. Graffiti blurred along the paint-chipped walls of the Metro. The train was coming into the station. Someone pushed past her, anxious for the doors to open and the exiting passengers to alight. But she kept moving through the crowd, her focus on the man with the streak of blond she’d just seen.

Two officers who stood talking on the other end of the platform caught her attention. She swallowed any doubts that what she was doing was foolish. She’d be safe. He wouldn’t try anything here. Not with all of these people and security around them.

Her heart raced as she scanned the crowd. This wasn’t exactly the way she’d planned on spending her afternoon. Having this man grab her bag, being rescued by the FBI, finding her apartment trashed and then having the intruder threatening her with a gun. Her gut churned as she pressed her bag closer to her side and glanced back at where she’d last seen Joe. But even he couldn’t fix everything. She still couldn’t get a hold of her sister, and there were no guarantees that going to Venice was going to put an end to this. Because if she couldn’t find the paintings, nothing she did was going to matter.

Someone bumped into her from behind. While taking the Metro was the easiest way to travel, she always preferred avoiding rush hour, where it always seemed as if the entire city was riding the subway. Like right now.

She glanced around the platform, but there was no sign of the man. But he must have her in his sights. She had the same feeling of being watched as she’d felt earlier at the Colosseum.

She shifted her gaze to the left. Bingo. He was still there, lingering at the edge of the crowd. He hesitated briefly, then quickly turned around and headed for the exit. But he wasn’t getting away. Not this time.

The crowd was thinning out around her as she started running. She grabbed his arm and pulled him around to face him. The familiar gaze pierced through hers. She swallowed the lump of fear in her throat, but didn’t let go. She was right. It was him.

“Tell me who are you and who’s after my sister,” she said in Italian.

Talia caught the look of surprise in his eyes as he tried to pull away, but she just held on tighter. He’d threatened not just her, but Shelby, as well. This had to end.

“I said who are you?” she repeated when he didn’t answer.

“You shouldn’t have done this.” He grabbed her arm and pressed a gun to her side. “You should have done what you were told, because now you’ve just made me mad and made this whole situation a whole lot worse.”

“You can’t shoot me here in front of all these people. There are cameras and police officers—”

“Except I don’t have anything to lose.” He leaned closer to her. “Which means I wouldn’t test me if I were you.”

There was anger in his voice, but she also caught the fear. What did he mean, he didn’t have anything to lose?

“Who are you?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Then tell me who you’re working with.”

“A very bad person.” He shook his head. “Do you think this is a game? Because it’s not. I’m just a pawn, hired to ensure you do what you were told to do. The person who hired me... I meant what I said earlier. They’ve killed before and trust me, they will kill you—and your sister—if you don’t do what they want.”

Someone shouted “Pistola!”

Gun!

Talia turned around. A woman was screaming in Italian for the police. Taking advantage of the distraction, Talia pulled her arm away from the man and slipped through the crowd. But it was too late for him. The police had surrounded the man.

Crowds filled the platform and the scene was chaos. She never should have left Joe. She needed to find him. Needed to get out of here.

“Talia...” Someone grabbed her from behind—Joe. He whisked her back toward the platform. “What did you think you were doing?”

“I don’t know. I saw him, and then...and then something snapped. I had to confront him.” Her hands were shaking, her chest heaving. “What do we do now? They’re going to be looking for me, and we don’t have time to explain this to the police.”

Another subway was pulling into the station.

“You’re right. Let’s go.”

The doors of the newly arrived car whooshed open, letting the dozens of riders escape, filling the platform even more. Joe kept walking, then pulled her into the subway car. The doors slid shut a fraction of a second later.

Talia glanced out the window from the safety of the Metro train. She couldn’t see much, but it appeared that the police now had the man in their custody. Her legs shook as they found two empty seats in the back of the car.

“Talia...”

She looked up at him, unable to tell if he was furious with her, or simply relieved she was okay.

“That was stupid,” she said. “I’m sorry. I never should have confronted him.”

“Stupid, maybe, but on the other hand incredibly brave. But you could have been hurt.”

“I know.” She pressed the palms of her hands against her thighs to stop them from shaking. “But all I could think about was stopping him. To make this entire nightmare go away. I wanted to find out who he was, or who’s behind this.”

“Tell me what he said.”

“He told me I should have done what I’d been told. That I’d made the entire situation worse.” She drew in a deep breath. “But there was something else.”

“What do you mean?”

“Something in his eyes. I don’t know. He told me he didn’t have anything to lose. He was scared, Joe. And I’m not sure why.”

“He’s being used by the person who killed your husband.”

“I know. And now we’ve got the police involved. They’re going to be looking for me now.”

“I’ll talk to my Italian contact. I already sent in a description of the man. I’ll let him know that the police have him in custody and make sure someone questions him for answers regarding this case.”

“And in the meantime?” she asked.

“I think we still need to head north and see if we can find those paintings. Because this is far from over.”

FIVE

She was losing it. Talia felt the windows of the Metro close in on her as they sped into the darkness through tunnels that threatened to crush her. She tried to reassure herself that the car was filled with tourists carrying backpacks and businessmen reading newspapers. Not the man who’d broken in to her apartment. He’d been arrested by police and wasn’t going anywhere for the moment. Which should make her feel better. But it didn’t. At least not completely. Whoever wanted the paintings—whoever had killed her husband—was still out there. And after all that had happened in the past few hours, having their hired thug arrested and put behind bars wasn’t going to stop them.

And that had her terrified.

She tried drawing in a calming breath as she counted down the subway stops to the hotel, where Joe needed to pick up his bag. She needed a place to clear her mind and stop shaking. Somewhere away from the stuffy Metro, full of people. The double doors finally opened at their stop, spewing out a dozen passengers including her and Joe, while more people filled the open space they’d left behind.

She felt Joe’s hand on her elbow as they walked down the crowded platform and up the steep flight of stairs to the street in silence. She knew if she started talking she was going to start crying and probably not be able to stop. And she didn’t want to do that. What she wanted was a place where she could feel safe.