The Five-Day Dig (38 page)

This thing was more than she bargained for. It just might have been everything she wanted.

V
ENTIDUE

W
HEN SHE WOKE
up, sunlight was streaming through the window, Chaz was spooned behind her, and the bed felt luxurious. She hadn’t forgotten the nightmare outside of their cocoon, but as long as she had him, the rest of life was worth the trouble.

She shifted a little, and he snuggled closer to her. Realizing that he was awake, she reached back to touch his bristly face. “You feel so amazing. I never want to leave this bed again.”

He stretched to kiss her on the cheek. “I wish we didn’t have to.”

“But we do.” She fought to keep the negative feelings from taking over. “As furious as I am with Sam, I have to see how he is. And I have to call Christina and tell her about this mess.”

“I’ll go to the hospital with you. If you would rather see your brother alone, I can take myself off to visit Dr. Farber. And I can even call your sister for you, if it will help.”

She laughed. “I wouldn’t wish that on you. But I could use company for the hospital trip.” She rolled over to face him. “I wish I didn’t need you so much.”

“I’m glad you do.” He looked into her eyes. “I need to be needed.”

She allowed herself another few minutes to savor the feel of him, but checking up on Sam hung over her head, and she didn’t want to put if off any longer.

They agreed that she would have the first shower. She hurried through it, not in the mood to be fussy. While she dried off, she heard the door to the bedroom open and close. The tantalizing smell of coffee teased her nose.

She wrapped a towel around her and stepped out of the bathroom to find Chaz carrying a tray of cappuccino and croissants. “You got breakfast!”

“I also got an update from Signora Vaccula.” He set the tray down on the desk and handed her a cup of coffee. “Your brother had a good night. He and Enza are scheduled for more tests today, but it looks like they’ve escaped internal injuries. The broken bones and bruises will heal. And Dr. Farber is fine. He should be released anytime.”

“No more deaths then.” Relieved, she sank down on the bed and sipped her drink. “That’s
some
good news.”

“Sam and
Enza
are both cooperating with the police, as well. She admitted to helping Dunk find the explosives.” He sat down at the desk and stirred the other cappuccino. “It turns out they were the ones who dug the unauthorized hole the other night. They took a cache of grenades that she’d known about since childhood. Also, in Dunk’s apartment in the
Borgo
, the police found books on demolition, explosives and psychoactive drugs.”

She clapped her palm against her forehead. “I saw the demolition book when I was there. And, do you remember, our first night here, he mentioned reading up on World War II munitions? He definitely put some thought into his plans.”

He nodded. “It seems clear that he masterminded the scheme and lured Enza and Sam onboard as accomplices. I don’t know how they’ll fare in the courts, but Signore Rentino has some crack lawyers on the case.”

“It’s more than they deserve.” She swallowed some coffee, mulling over the new information about Dunk. It didn’t clear Sam of wrongdoing, so she wasn’t sure it made much difference to her. Why the hell had Sam come here anyway? He’d said something about helping make her work a tribute to their father. How on earth had he come up with such a crazy idea?

After eating, she dried her hair and dressed while Chaz took a turn in the shower. As she sat outside putting on her make-up, the sound of vehicles pulling past below drew her attention. Two bomb-squad vans passed the house and left the estate.

Chaz stepped onto the balcony, damp-haired and bare-chested. Involuntarily, her gaze swept from his face down his lean-muscled torso all the way to his bare feet poking out beneath black pants. A wave of love-crazed need for him rolled through her.
She still could hardly believe he was with her
.

P
ushing those thoughts aside for the time being, she said,
“
The
bomb squad is leaving, and we haven’t heard any more explosions.”

“More good news. And I like the way you’re looking at me.” He kissed her and grinned, rubbing a towel on his head. “I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

The drive to the hospital seemed to last forever. She didn’t know how she would act toward Sam when she saw him. On one hand, she loved him, and his physical, mental and legal predicaments tormented her. But why couldn’t he make more of an effort to use common sense? A man had died. Despite her love for him and awareness of his struggles, she couldn’t help but be appalled. To be honest with herself, she was tired of having to pick up the pieces of things he – and their father – destroyed. Hadn’t she endured enough? Didn’t she deserve to focus on her own life for a change?

Outside the hospital entrance, they encountered their boss, dressed in street clothes and carrying a roll bag. He looked well, and Winnie had never been so pleased to see him. “Will! They released you?”

“Yes, at last.” He rolled his eyes. “I was ready to go last night.”

“I’m so glad you’re OK.” She almost hugged him, but decided that would have gone a little too far. “I’m so sorry for the havoc my brother has wreaked.”

“That’s not your fault.
Family.
” He frowned, looking at Chaz, then back at her. “Look: My own brother is a hopeless alcoholic. Ten years ago, he hit his own kid backing out of the driveway in a drunken stupor.”

Her jaw dropped, partly in reaction to the story, but mostly over his confiding in her and Chaz. “I’m sorry, Will,” she said, touched.

He took in a long breath. “My niece is fine now. My brother, not so much.”

“We all have black sheep in the family,” Chaz said.

The chairman set his bag down on the sidewalk. “By the way, I made some calls this morning and got in touch with Dr. Lombardo. He was tight-lipped, but after I buttered him up with a bogus request for his expert opinion on some nonsense, he loosened up. He
says
he found your father’s journal in a crate of antiquities that he purchased on behalf of a local collector. He bought the lot from your brother.”

She clenched her fists. “I see. So Sam is involved in the black market, too. I don’t know what to expect next.”

“I also suspect that your brother forged the letters of recommendation in my name.”

Her jaw fell open. But as she absorbed the idea, it made sense. “Sam did say something last night about setting up the explosion to further my career. If he had in it him to do that, forgery would be nothing to him.”

Chaz nodded slowly. “Would he have had access to the department letterhead?”

“Yes. I keep some at my house, and he has a key.” She turned back to her boss. “Of course it was him. Why didn’t I figure that out? Again, I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

“Well, I’m glad it wasn’t you who did it, and I have no intention of pressing charges against your brother. He’ll have enough to contend with here.”

Her throat tightened. Her boss may often have been harsh or tactless, but she gave him credit for not kicking a person who was down. “Thank you,” she said.

He picked his bag back up. “Here comes my cab. I’ll see you at the villa tonight.”

A taxi pulled up, and he climbed in.

Winnie and Chaz watched it pull away, then entered the building and made their way to Sam’s room in silence. She was so frustrated with her brother, she didn’t know what she would say to him.

When she walked in and saw him pale, bruised and punctured with tubes, however, her heart squeezed with empathy. She rushed to him and hugged him gently. “I’m so upset with you,” she said, choking on a sob.

“I know. I love you, sis.” His tone sounded incongruously calm, given the disastrous situation. He patted her back with his tube-free hand. Over her shoulder, he said to Chaz, “We haven’t been introduced, but I’ve seen you around the dig site. Rumor has it you’re sleeping with my sister.”

She pulled away from him. His gall was unbelievable, especially given the trouble he’d caused.

“Yes,” Chaz responded in a matter-of-fact voice. He stepped forward and offered his hand. “I’m Charles Frazer. Circumstances could be better, eh?”

Winnie glared at her brother, who looked amused by
Chaz’s
frank admission. As they shook hands, she said, “You’ve gone too far this time. Why can’t you think about how your actions affect other people? If nothing else, think how much Dad hurt the family when killed himself.”

His smile faded. “You can’t compare this to Dad’s suicide. Maybe I didn’t calculate all of the possible ramifications, but how could I have imagined Dunk would get so desperate and ignore my recommendations about the explosives? If that makes me like Dad, then I’m sorry.”

The nonchalant apology didn’t impress her. He really didn’t get it. “How did you get hold of his journal?” she asked.

“What journal?” He looked confused.

“Dad’s journal. A Dr. Lombardo says it was in a crate of antiquities you sold him. He forwarded it to me.”

His eyes widened. “You’re kidding! I had no idea there was anything personal in that crate. It looked like a jumble of minor finds and some old textbooks. The ones I opened were all written in Italian.”

Her lip curled in disgust. “Didn’t you think the rest of the family might want to go through that crate? How did you get it in the first place? I’m sure it wasn’t in the garage at Mom and Dad’s.”

He shook his head. “No, but I did uncover an old deed there for warehouse space outside of
Naples
. It turned out the property had a lien against it, but when I paid the back taxes and penalties, the local government lifted it. Naturally, I had to take out a substantial loan to cover twenty years’ worth of fees, but I suspected the investment would pay off. Sure enough, the place is chockfull of invaluable artifacts.”

A wave of dizziness came over her. She grabbed hold of the back of a chair to steady herself.

Chaz took hold of her elbow. “Are you all right?”

“I don’t know.” She plopped down on the chair and looked back at her brother. “So you immediately set about selling artifacts?”

He looked into his lap – the first hint of guilt he had expressed. “Just some minor things, like I said. I needed the money. But there’s much more where that came from. You and Christina will have your share.”

“I don’t want a share! Those artifacts aren’t ours to sell.”

He met her gaze again. “A lot of them have documentation with them, so we can prove that Dad bought at least some legitimately. Admittedly, the stuff I sold was undocumented, but that doesn’t mean he obtained it illegally.”

“If it were a legitimate operation, why would he be so secretive about it?”

Chaz stepped closer to the bed. “There are gray areas when it comes to dealing in antiquities. Even the most reputable museums have pieces in their collections that are disputed. Maybe your father had sensitive details to negotiate.”