Secretive (15 page)

Zoe rubbed her hand across her eyes. “Of course, it’s at the top of a mountain,” she muttered.

Jack turned to her. “Say something?”

“Just ignore me. I’m tired and crabby. And worried,” she added, thinking of Bent’s motionless body.

They’d spent most of the time on the train from Paris going over the draft emails and searching the computer for more information, but they hadn’t found anything else as revealing as the emails. They’d arrived in Stuttgart, Germany at four in the morning then switched to the first of two regional trains that brought them to Lintzberg.

Their train had been delayed out of Stuttgart, causing them to miss their next one, and they’d had to spend two hours in a small German hamlet that Zoe couldn’t even remember the name of, much less pronounce. Her grasp of one foreign language, Spanish, had been basic, but enough that when she was in Italy she could decipher some of the Italian signs, even catch a few words of Italian, but she had no clue about the German words or signs. The incomprehensible strings of letters made her feel completely out of her element, despite having edited several German guidebooks.

She knew part of her discombobulated feeling came from lack of sleep. She’d tried to catch a few hours sleep on the regional trains, but there had been too many questions circulating through her mind. She hadn’t been able to relax. Unlike Jack, who reclined his seat, crossed his arms, and was snoring in about five seconds.

“Come on, where’s the sightseeing fanatic I know? I thought you’d love this—a quaint, German village at Christmas.”

“I can’t take in quaint right now.”

“Let’s get some food. We’ve got time,” Jack said as the road widened into an open cobblestoned area with a towering Christmas tree decorated in red stars and Santa hats. Small shops ringed three sides of the open area and a brick church with a gothic-style spire dominated the fourth side.

Zoe led the way to an open-air vendor who was set up near the Christmas tree. A woman was leaving with a cup of what looked like hot chocolate. Zoe pointed to the cup and held up two fingers, after glancing at Jack with raised eyebrows to see if he wanted one.

“I’m afraid that’s the extent of my German communication abilities right now. I can’t remember anything beyond
bitte
and
danka
.”

“You got the job done. That’s all that matters.” Jack handed some money that they’d exchanged in one of the train stations to the man behind the counter. “Do you want one of those?” Jack asked nodding to a customer standing at one of the high tables eating a sausage on a stick.

“Sure. When in Rome and all that.”

A few minutes later, Jack handed her a sausage and they moved to a tall table.

“It’s good,” Zoe pronounced after a few bites. “Spicy, but good. Of course, I’m starving, so I’d probably down some cardboard right now and say it was fantastic.”

“This is definitely better than cardboard.” Jack held out a thin pancake that had been folded in half then folded over again. “Try it. It’s a crepe filled with Nutella.”

Zoe took a bite and closed her eyes in bliss as she chewed. “I think I need one of those, too,” she said. She opened her eyes and realized Jack was smiling, his eyes half-lowered. She looked away quickly and felt her cheeks heat up despite the freezing air.

“Have another bite,” Jack said in a deep, almost lazy tone that made her stomach do a little flip.

“I—ah—thanks, but I’m full now.” Zoe looked around for something to distract her from the crazy feelings she was having. What was it about Jack? How did he do this to her? He’d been gone for months, and she’d decided to keep all her options open, but then he offers her a bite of food, and she practically needed to sit down because her knees felt so weak? Her knees had no business going all wobbly on her. They had other things, problems—big problems—to sort out. Would the information Jack had convince the police they were innocent victims in this mess? Would they believe Jack and she had nothing to do with Bent’s death and the fire at his office?

“So where are these files again?” Zoe asked, her voice brisk.

“Back to business? You’re not usually so tightly focused.”

“I’m focused on getting the flash drive. Our whole reason for being here.”

He sighed with disappointment. “If you insist. The drive is in my room.” He nodded at the dark precipice overhead. “In the castle.”

“So tell me about the castle.” Zoe sipped her hot chocolate. “I can’t even see it.”

Jack finished the crepe and wiped his mouth with a thin paper napkin before he spoke. “It’s set back a few feet from the edge. You’d be able to see one of the towers during the day. It was once a triangular fortress with towers at each corner. It was shaped like an isosceles triangle, two long walls and one short one. The short wall looked out over the valley. Today, only the short wall and the tower connecting it to one of the longer walls are standing. The rest of the place is in ruins. Some wealthy industrialist bought it in the eighteen-hundreds and restored the tower and some of the buildings that adjoin the standing wall.”

“Is it a tourist site? Can you visit it?”

“Not now. It used to be, but Costa bought it and closed the livable portion to visitors. The ruins are open from June to August. There’s quite a bit of rumbling in the town about the reclusive owner. Most people here have never seen him, only the Mercedes with tinted windows that he drives to and from.”

“How could he buy a castle when he’s a wanted criminal?”

“He probably had an attorney act on his behalf during the negotiation. I’m sure that the title is in an alias, or he’s bought off any local officials so they will look the other way and protect him from potential investigation.”

“And you maintain the grounds there?”

“Yes. Temporarily. The prior groundskeeper had an accident with a chainsaw. Cut up his leg. He’s going to be fine, but he’s afraid that if his reclusive employer found out about his diminished work abilities he might lose his job. He was more than happy to have someone step in and fill his shoes.”

“Without his employer knowing it?”

Jack nodded. “Fortunately, the only other staff is a cook-slash-housekeeper who comes in from the village when Costa is in residence, and she happens to be the permanent groundskeeper’s aunt, so she won’t give the game away. She wants her nephew to keep his job.”

“And how are your groundskeeping skills?” Zoe asked, thinking of the minimal yard work Jack had done at home.

“Let’s just say it’s a good thing it’s winter,” Jack conceded. “The heavy pruning is finished, and there’s no mowing this time of year. I open the gate in the morning, do minor repairs and maintenance during the day, and lock up at night.”

“Sounds more like a general handyman,” Zoe said. “Don’t think I’ll forget this. I’ve got a kitchen ceiling that needs some drywall. Sounds like you’re just the man for it.”

“Believe me, I’d rather be there than here, avoiding Costa.”

“And have you been able to do that? Avoid him?”

“Yes. It’s not too hard. He stays mostly in the refurbished living quarters on the second and third floor. My room is tiny. I think it was originally a storage room. Either that or part of the dungeon. I make sure Costa and his entourage are out before I venture up to their rooms.”

“His entourage?”

“Only two people. Ernesto Moretti, an oversized, no-neck kind of guy. Chauffeur-slash-bodyguard. And, Anna Whitmore, his American secretary-slash-mistress.”

“Wow. He must have been hit hard by the downturn in the economy. Does everyone who works for him have to do double duty?”

“Tough times everywhere, I guess, even for criminals. No, seriously, he’s just being smart. A large group of people would attract more attention. He can move quickly, and he limits the potential for leaks when he only has a few people around him.”

“So we walk to the top of the mountain, get the flash drive with the files, and then get it to the FBI,” Zoe said as she gazed across the square at the people shopping or pausing for a hot drink.

“You take it to the FBI. I stay here and keep an eye on Costa.”

“I don’t like that part. Nothing good ever seems to happen when we split up.”

“Not what I want to do either, but I have to stay. If Costa disappears again, we’re right back where we were.”

“No,” Zoe countered. “We have evidence of what he’s done. With the draft emails and your info, we can prove we weren’t involved in the pump-and-dump scam.”

“But our position is even stronger, if we can pinpoint where Costa is.”

Zoe knew he was right, so she didn’t argue with him. Instead she said, “This really is a quaint little town.” Now that she’d had some food and the hot chocolate had warmed her, she could appreciate her surroundings.

Small evergreen trees in pots edged the street. Single gold bows were tied at the top and streamers of ribbons draped from the bows straight to the ground. Garlands threaded with lights hung in scallops from balconies and storefronts.

She frowned as she caught sight of a familiar silver-headed figure. “That can’t be...” she murmured.

Jack’s relaxed attitude vanished. “What?”

“There, on the far side of the open area where the cars are creeping through the pedestrians. Is that Sam?”

“Which car?”

“The small one.”

“They’re all small.”

“The smallest one. Blue.” Zoe pointed. “The one that’s turning onto that street beyond the church.” As the car turned, she got a good look at the driver’s profile. “That
is
Sam. How can he be here? Surely there’s not
another
tracker on us.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Jack said, as he reached for her hand. They hurried away from the exposed table, merging into a group of people crossing to the other side of the square. “He didn’t seem to be looking for us—or anyone else, for that matter.”

“You’re right. He didn’t even scan the crowds. All he was interested in was turning onto this road,” Zoe said as they left the open area and began climbing up the steeply inclining road. “Where does this go, do you know?”

Jack glanced up. “The castle.”

A
NNA was browsing on-line, looking at handbags and considering which Louis Vuitton bag she would tell Costa she wanted for Christmas when she heard the commotion, feet moving rapidly through the hall and the slam of doors. It had been a fairly busy day, and she had been careful to act as she always did, and not vary her routine. Costa had seemed exactly the same, so she didn’t think she’d given herself away.

She left the drawing room and followed the sounds of the raised voices to the office then gently opened the door a crack. Costa stood, his arms braced on the desktop. Another man with gray hair, but a young face stood on the other side of the desk.

Anna hadn’t seen him before, but she’d bet this was Sam, the American who had been monitoring Jack Andrew’s ex-wife and watching for Jack. If he was here, things were coming to a head.

“I told you,” he was saying, “I did everything possible to keep track of her. I had the tracker on her car and when the battery went out on it, I trailed her myself in a car she wouldn’t recognize. And, I planted the tracker in her bag when she went to London.”

“And yet,” Costa said, his voice soft, “You still lost her.”

“But I did everything else.”

“I am sure you did your best. However, I am disappointed.” Anna swallowed, knowing from his tone that the man had fallen far short of what Costa expected. She’d heard him use that tone and those exact words with Henri, who always leered at her hungrily when he thought she wasn’t looking. She’d been shocked when she heard Henri was dead. He’d been mugged in the streets of Naples, his throat slit and his wallet missing. Costa had shrugged.

“I took care of Bent,” the man continued in a somewhat belligerent tone that made Anna’s heart pound. No one talked to Costa like that.

“That was more important,” the man insisted. “You don’t need her.”

Costa stared at him a long moment, then crossed his arms and paced to the side of the room. “How did you take care of Bent?” he asked, his gaze on the rug.

“Poison.”

Costa swung toward him, his eyebrows raised.

The other man shrugged. “I like a little variety. You don’t need to worry. I set his office on fire. It was stuffed full of papers and books. Went up in less than two minutes. There will be no evidence.”

Anna saw Costa shake his head slightly and knew he was even more displeased. The other man didn’t pick up on the small movement. He settled into a chair across from the desk and stretched out his legs. “I figure, I completed this job as well as I could, considering that you sent another crew and spooked her.”

“What?”

“In Dallas, the two men who tried to snatch her. I was shadowing her and saw them. You should have told me you wanted me to bring her in, and I would have done it. I had her eating out of my hand. I could have proposed a romantic European getaway, and she would have tripped over her own feet to get to the airport.”

“I see.”

Anna knew Costa was considering possibilities, connecting the lines and drawing one right back to her. She was the only other person who had access to the information about Zoe Hunter and Costa’s plans for her. Time for her to cut her losses, get out of the castle, and away from Costa. She was about to slip away from the door when she noticed the leather tube propped against the leg of the desk. It was here. Her time here wouldn’t be a total loss, after all.

––––––––

T
HE road to the castle twisted back on itself as it wound steeply up the forested hillside in a series of hairpin turns that became tighter as they neared the top. A few houses clustered at the base of the road near the town, but the rest of the road was deserted and unlit, a quiet passage between thick bands of evergreen.

The road was clear of snow, but a layer of it, about an inch deep, covered the trees and forest floor, brightening the night. There was enough moonlight that they could see the outlines of the road and the trees. They didn’t speak as they hurried up the road, concentrating on keeping their footing. As they neared the top, a round tower in pale brown stone topped with a conical black roof came into view. Several windows in the tower glowed with light.

The road made one final curve back on itself before it reached the castle gates. They paused in the center of the road, the valley spread below them and the tower looming overhead.

The view was stunning. The lights of the village filled the hollow on the right side of the mountain, while on the left, a wall of rock plunged down to a wide gray lake that reflected the stars. Winded from the fast climb, Zoe’s words came out in choppy white wisps of breath. “Are you sure you never saw Sam here or around Costa?”

She had spoken quietly, and Jack replied in the same low voice. “Yes. He hasn’t been here. I’d remember him.”

“But him being here...it can’t be a coincidence.”

Jack studied the wall extending out from the tower. “No, it can’t.”

“He’s associated with Costa in some way,” Zoe said, feeling as if she might be sick. “Everything about him—it was
all
a lie. I mean, I realized he’d been lying to me, but I thought some of it was true.”

Jack took a set of keys out of his pocket. “Some of it probably was real. It wouldn’t be the first time Costa set someone up in a business,” Jack said grimly.

“But the things, he said to me, he acted like—” Zoe stopped abruptly, remembering the flirty innuendo, the intense gazes. And she’d fallen for it—all of it. She felt herself flushing as she remembered how flustered she’d been when he tried to kiss her at the airport. He’d probably been laughing inside the whole time.

“He probably meant every word of what he said to you—whatever it was.” Jack’s gaze was on the keys, flicking through them as he searched for one. “I don’t see how he could help falling for you. I couldn’t.” He looked up and locked his gaze on hers. Zoe could tell from his face that he was almost as surprised as she was at what he’d said.

What Sam had said and done faded in importance, and she was suddenly very aware of how close they were to each other, their warm breath mingling in the cold air. She wanted to say something, but couldn’t find any words. She smiled instead. Jack leaned toward her slightly, giving her time to pull away.

She didn’t make a conscious decision to kiss him. One minute they were standing close to each other, and the next his lips were on hers, and it wasn’t only her knees that went quivery. She wrapped her arms around him, her only clear thought was that it felt so right, so exactly right.

Jack pulled his lips away and rested his forehead against hers.

“I don’t see any reason to stop,” Zoe said.

“Other than the fact that it’s ten degrees?”

“I don’t feel cold.”

Jack made a sound deep in his throat and stepped back. “As always, my timing is impeccable.” He looked over his shoulder at the castle. “We’ve got to do this now. Before they realize we’re here.”

Zoe nodded. “Right.” She noticed that his breathing was as choppy as hers.

“But we will finish this discussion later,” Jack said.

“Oh, I’ll hold you to that, don’t worry.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, and Zoe felt another little tremor inside. Sure, she’d flirted with Sam and there had been an initial attraction, but she and Jack had something different, something deeper and more intimate.

Jack turned to the castle, his tone business-like. “Okay, we’ll follow this low stone wall to the gates. I have a key in case they’re locked, but I doubt they will be since Sam just drove up here. We’ll circle through the parking area to a back entrance. We’d better not talk anymore. Just in case.”

“Okay. Let’s go.” They moved silently along the wall to the wrought-iron gates that were at least twelve feet tall and had an intricate crest in the middle. They were open wide enough for a car to drive through. Their footsteps sounded loud in the quiet of the forest as they made their way across the gravel parking lot. Jack pointed to the small blue car that Sam had driven. It was parked next to a black Mercedes. A dusting of snow covered a faded red Fiat in the far corner of the parking area—Jack’s car, Zoe assumed.

They continued on to the castle wall, which soared twenty feet above them. They walked along it for about three to four hundred feet, and then they came to a point where the wall had collapsed, creating a pile of stone.

“Up and over,” Jack said under his breath.

Zoe followed him, placing her feet where he’d placed his as they scrambled upward. Zoe was aware of the dark valley below them and had a sense of moving higher, but she kept her attention focused on the stone in front of her. They crested the pile of rubble and moved down the other side into the dark courtyard with only a few stones skittering down the pile to announce their arrival. They both paused to listen. There was a faint rustle of movement from the woods, a creature moving through the undergrowth.

They moved to the portion of the wall that connected with the tower. Jack used a key to open a wooden door, then murmured, “Watch your head,” and ducked through the pointed doorframe. Zoe glided in behind him, pressed the door closed, and then followed him down a set of stone stairs to an underground corridor. The hall was narrow and lit only with single bulbs spaced so far apart that she had to take a few paces in the dark between each pool of light. The floor and walls were made of stone and the whole place was as cold as it was outside.

Finally, Jack stopped at one of the doors. It swung open when he touched it. He cursed under his breath and moved inside. Zoe followed slowly, taking in the bare accommodations. A wooden chest, its drawers gaping open, stood next to a plain armoire. An iron bedframe with a thick down comforter filled the rest of the room. The comforter was wrinkled and bunched as if it had been shoved to the side. “Good thing you don’t mind living simply. Not very posh,” Zoe said.

Jack went straight to the open doors of the armoire. “Servant’s quarters.” He rummaged around in his clothes. “Despite the romantic image, castle life wasn’t very comfortable, not for most people. At least I have a shared bath,” he said, nodding to the door at the side of the room. He turned from the armoire, his gaze raking the rest of the room.

“Where did you put it?” Zoe asked. There weren’t many hiding places. The walls were closely-fitted stone and the furnishings, despite being bare, looked solid. Jack didn’t answer. He squatted down. The armoire sat on feet that raised it a few inches off the floor. He reached under the armoire and ran his hand along the inside edge of the trim. He removed his hand and showed Zoe a dusty strip of tape. “Gone.”

Zoe bit her lip. “All this way...and it’s gone?” She hiked the messenger bag higher on her shoulder. “That’s not good.”

“No, in more ways than one.” Jack tossed the tape away as he stood. “It means someone searched my room. They’re suspicious of me. We’ve need to leave.”

“At least, we’ve still got Bent’s laptop.”

“Give me a minute to change into some warmer clothes, and we’ll get out of here.” Jack was already moving to fish a hiking boot from under the bed. He found its mate across the room. From the pile of crumpled clothes, Jack pulled out a pair of dark pants, a pale blue shirt, and a cream sweater. “See if you can find my coat, will you? It’s black,” he said as he disappeared through a small door into a bathroom.

Zoe didn’t want to hang around any longer, but she couldn’t blame him for changing from the thin pants and windbreaker into warmer clothes. She found the coat under the comforter and handed it to him when he emerged from the bathroom, pulling on the hiking boots. He didn’t bother to tie them, just shrugged into the coat and headed for the door.

“I can’t believe we came all this way, and it’s gone,” Zoe said as Jack opened the door.

Sam stood in the hall, a gun in his hand. “Not gone.” He opened his free hand. An orange flash drive rested in his palm. “Just moved to a new location.”