by Helen Brenna
“Take off those masks,” the old man said.
Kate immediately tugged hers off. Riley slowly followed suit and glanced at Kate. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”
“You didn’t.”
The old man came forward a few steps. “Yiatí? Why? What are you…” He paused and squinted at Riley. “James Riley. What in Zeus’s name are you doing here?”
“Hérete, Angelo,” Riley said. “Hello.”
“Why have you broken in to my house?”
“It’s a long story.”
“So are you going to kill me?” he asked softly.
“You know I wouldn’t.”
“Put down your guns,” he told his men.
They hesitated.
“Drop them. Now,” he said. “Everything is fine.” He released Ally, and she ran to Riley.
“It’s all right, honey.” Not taking his eyes off Angelo, Riley hugged her and kept his arm around her as he faced his old friend. For a moment they all stood awkwardly in the room, glancing at each other. “How did you know we were here?” Riley asked.
“We passed by your car on the street,” Angelo said. “I noticed a young girl sitting in the backseat alone and it was worrying me. Funny, but I had my driver turn around to make sure she was okay.” He tossed the keys to one of his men. “Parakaló. Please, Stamos, bring Riley’s car up to the house now.”
After the men had disappeared, Angelo tossed his cap onto the hall table, shrugged out of his jacket and held his hands out to his sides. “So. As they say, an open enemy is better than a false friend.”
“I am not your enemy, Angelo.”
“No? Then are you going to explain this to me?”
“David March,” Riley said. “That enough explanation for the moment?”
“For the moment.” Angelo looked toward Ally. “Who’s this?”
“My daughter,” Riley said. “Ally.”
“I should’ve known.” He patted Ally’s cheek and smiled softly at her. “You must look like your mother.”
Ally smiled.
“And this one?” Angelo asked, referring to Kate. “I feel as though I should know her.”
Riley stepped back so Angelo could get a good look at her. “You probably don’t remember—”
“Na, ah, ah.” Angelo put up his hand and smiled at Kate. “I know. I know. Maggie Ballos’s sister, Kate.”
“You remember me?” Kate asked.
He shrugged. “Nick and Maggie send e-mails. You’re in many of the photos.” He glanced at Riley. “How long will you be in Athens?”
“One night.”
Angelo looked back and forth between the three of them. Suddenly he said, “Then you must stay here with us.”
Riley shook his head. “We have to leave—”
“James. I will not argue. I’ve told you time and time again, although I know that you never believed me, my home is your home. Nadi is asleep now, but she’d shoot me for sure if she wakes up in the morning and finds out I had you three in our home and didn’t make you stay.”
“All right. For Nadi.”
“You can take your daughter to the first guest bedroom on the left.” While Riley was gone, Angelo directed Kate toward the couches in the recessed living area and went to the bar. They chatted about Nick and Maggie and the kids as he opened a bottle of red wine, brought three glasses to the table and filled them one by one.
Riley came back a moment later and Angelo glanced at him. “So tell me. Why did you break in to my home?”
“Angelo, you don’t want to get involved in this.”
“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”
Riley rubbed his eyes. “David March kidnapped my sister-in-law and will kill her if I don’t cooperate with him.”
“March.” Angelo barely reacted. “One of these days someone is going to give that man what’s coming to him.”
“With any luck, that man will be me, but first I need to get my sister-in-law to safety.”
“What does Kate have to do with this?”
“I have an expertise in identifying and repairing certain ancient artifacts,” Kate said. “I’m here to help Riley.”
“March wants you to steal something from me, né?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to tell me what, or do you still plan to steal it out from under me?”
Riley sat on the couch next to Kate. “You own a statue. It’s one of five he wants me to steal.”
“The primordial deity Chaos,” Kate explained. “From the Hellenistic period.”
Angelo frowned at them. “Then we have a problem.”
“Don’t do this, Angelo,” Riley said. “Let me borrow it. I swear. I’ll get it back to you. Somehow. Some way.”
“I know you would, James. I know.” Angelo scratched his head, dislodging several wisps of long, silky gray hair, and took a slow sip of wine. “Unfortunately I can’t give you the statue.”
“That complicates things.” Riley clenched his jaw and glanced around the room as if his gaze could not rest for a moment.
“Don’t do that,” Angelo said. “Don’t start plotting ways to take me down. It won’t do you any good.”
“You’re not giving me much of a choice.”
“James, you’re an honest man. I know you don’t think much of it, but you helped me out of more than one jam.” Angelo took a deep breath. “If I had the statue, I would give it to you. But I no longer own it.”
Riley stared at him. “Who does?”
“No one.” He took a sip of wine. “Last summer, my sister had an important dinner party at her house in the northern suburbs. She wanted to display some of my art, hoping to impress those in attendance. A few days later, before I could collect my pieces, the fires ravaging Athens at the time quickly reached her neighborhood. In a matter of hours her home was burned to the ground. She saved only the items she thought were the most valuable, not realizing the statue of Chaos should’ve been one of them. The fire burned so hot, the figure was completely destroyed.”
“Oh, my God,” Kate murmured, glancing at Riley.
“This won’t change anything as far as March is concerned.” Riley held Kate’s gaze. “He’ll kill Jenny if he doesn’t get that statue.”
“You said Trace will find a way to get Jenny safe,” Kate said. “We just need to stall March.”
“That’s not good enough. I have to be working this from both ends. To be safe.” Riley stood and paced the room. “Angelo, does anyone have the details of what you lost in the fire?”
“Óhi,” Angelo explained. “No one knows. I came by the statue and several other pieces in a…let’s say…questionable fashion.”
“Then we’ve got a chance.” Riley glanced at Kate. “We’re going to pretend we have it.”
“Pós?” Angelo asked. “How?”
“By bluffing. It’s our only option.”
“No, there’s something else we can do,” Kate said, holding Riley’s gaze. “I can make a replica. It won’t be perfect, but it should fool all but the most trained eyes.”
“How long will that take?” Riley asked.
“It’s a slow process. Molding, drying, carving. Firing it in a kiln. Under normal circumstances several weeks.”
“Kate, we don’t have that much time.”
“I know.” She ran her hands through her tangled hair, thinking. “Theoretically, the clay would need at least two days to dry before being fired in a kiln. It’ll probably take me two days to make it. I need four days.”
“You’ve got two. I have to leave for Moscow no later than Friday. Waiting even that long will give me only one day to steal the last two statues.”
“What can I do to help?” Angelo offered.
“Give me a space to work,” Kate said, standing. “I need a countertop and good lighting.”
“What else do you need?” Riley came toward her.
“To get at it right away.”
RILEY WATCHED KATE line things up on
the worktable in the well-lit room Angelo had showed them to after Kate had gathered her supplies. She laid out several pictures Angelo had given her of the actual figurine he’d owned as well as images she’d printed off the Internet. She also set out the other two statues they’d stolen in Ostia and dropped the bag of clay she’d brought with her from D.C. onto the counter along with some tools.
“Is there anything else you need from me?” Angelo asked.
“No,” Kate said. “Thank you, Angelo.”
“Then I will let you both get to it.”
“Angelo,” Riley said, causing the older man to look back. “Thank you, and I apologize for taking you away from Diloti tonight.”
“Ah. No bother. It’s a card game.” He grinned. “I’ll beat them all next week.”
After Angelo had left, Riley paced beside the counter. “What can I do to help?”
“Nothing. This is going to take some time.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t know how to do nothing.”
She glanced at him, concern filling her gaze. “Then learn.” She scooped the hunk of clay out of the bag and slapped it onto the counter.
“Would it be possible for you to make replicas of the statues in Russia?”
“I don’t have enough time or enough clay.”
He glanced down at the lump she was working over and over with the heels of her hands. “That’s not enough for one statue.”
“I know, Riley. That’s why I asked one of Angelo’s men to get some more before we came down here.”
“What if it’s not the right color or texture?”
“I can guarantee it won’t be. This clay we brought from the museum in D.C., remember? It was mixed especially for these statues.”
He ran his hands through his short hair. “So what—”
“Riley, stop.” Kate came around the table and put her hands on his chest. “I’ll layer the special clay over the clay the guard brings back. I’m very good at making replicas. That’s why museums hire me. I will do everything within my power to make sure this statue is right.”
“I know you will, Kate,” he whispered. Before giving himself a moment to think better of it, he ran his hand along the side of her face.
Slowly she closed her eye and leaned into his touch.
If only this nightmare was over. If only Jenny was safe and he and Kate had nothing hanging over their heads. He’d take her into his arms and he’d— No, he wouldn’t. There was still the matter of them having no future between them. He was not who she needed in a man.
But what did he want? To go back to active duty once this was all said and done and carry on as before? For Ally to go back to living with Jenny? For him to live and die a soldier with no more depth to him and his life than one of these Greek statues?
As he ran the pad of his thumb over Kate’s lips, he wasn’t so sure of the answers to any of those questions. The only thing he knew for sure was that he wanted to feel this woman’s lips against his mouth one more time.
Wrapping his hand behind Kate’s neck, he bent and kissed her. He urged her lips open and gently explored her mouth with his tongue. On an achy sigh, she wrapped her arms around him and he lifted her against him.
She felt solid and strong for such a small package, and that more than anything turned him on. Surprisingly, the last thing he found himself wanting from Kate was anything sweet or soft. Slanting his mouth, he deepened their kiss.
She groaned, ran her hands under his shirt, proving to him how much he wanted her, and at that moment he realized that come hell or high water, he was going to have her. But not like this. Not with this missing Chaos statue hanging over their heads.
He pulled back, set her down and stepped away. “Kate…”
“I swear to God, Riley, you are just like every other man I’ve ever known. Too weak for a strong woman.” She looked away. “Get out of here, okay?”
“Kate—”
“Let me do this.”
She was wrong about him being weak, but until this was over, he needed to keep his distance. “Okay,” he whispered. “You’ll—”
“Let you know if I need anything. I swear.” She took him by the arm, led him across the room and pushed him out into the hall. “Go!”
He stood there a moment after she shut the door in his face. Restless and preoccupied, he went back upstairs and out into the living room. Angelo had gone to bed after showing him to a guest bedroom. He turned toward the room and noticed Ally’s light on, although the door was closed. She was still awake.
So what? She’ll be fine. She’ll deal. Besides, he’d tried reconnecting at the airport, and Ally was having none of it. He had turned and taken several steps when the sound of sniffling stopped him. She wasn’t fine.
Don’t avoid her. Be the father she needs.
He rapped softly on the door.
“What?”
Cracking open the door, he found her sitting out on the balcony, a late-night breeze blowing through her long hair as she stared out over the city. “Ally? You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she whispered, turning her head to wipe the corner of her eye.
“You don’t look fine.” He sat on the chair next to her.
“You’ve got bigger problems than me.”
“Hey,” he said, pausing, trying to frame his words in the best way he knew how. “I know this is going to be hard for you to believe, but you’re the most important thing in my world. No matter how small your problems are, they’re big to me.”
For a moment she seemed to be judging his sincerity. “I wanna go home, Dad. I’m sick of driving for hours, flying into foreign countries and sleeping in strange beds. And I’m sick of being scared.” A tear slipped down her cheek, then another, and soon it was a steady stream. “But more than anything, I’m worried about Jenny. I miss her.”
He couldn’t fix this. A sense of frustration boiled up inside him. It killed him, but there wasn’t anything he could do to fix this. Capable of nothing more substantial, he reached out to hug her and before he knew it, she was in his lap and he was rocking her like a big, overgrown baby.
A long time passed before she finally ran out of steam. She rubbed her swollen eyes with her hands. “I got your shirt all wet.”
“I’ll dry.” He gave her shoulders a tight squeeze. “Ally, you need to believe this. I will not let anything happen to you.”
She swallowed. “I know, Dad. What about Jenny?”
“Trace is going to do everything he can to get her back. As soon as an opportunity presents itself, he’ll be all over March and his men. In a couple of days this is all going to feel like a bad nightmare. It’s all going to work out. You’ll see.”
He could see her relax, her eyelids turn heavy. He carried her to the bed. In a few minutes she was sound asleep.
Was it possible this lame attempt at comfort was all she’d needed from him? Was it possible he could be the father she needed? And the biggest question of all—was it too late?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Thursday, 7:45 a.m.
VASILI BELOV…ties to a Moscow brotherhood of crime…investigated by the United States government…linked to the murder of a high court judge…under suspicion of smuggling nuclear weapons…cocaine…illegal oil trade…
Unlike the cold snap in D.C., unseasonably warm temperatures for late November were hitting Athens, so Riley sat at the table on the Bebels’ patio and scanned through anything and everything he could find on the internet regarding the owner of the last two statues. If this information was any indication, Riley was in deep shit.
He pulled out his cell phone and connected to a saved number. A voice-mail system answered. “Roman, it’s Riley,” he said, leaving a message. “Call me ASAP. I need your help.”
More worried than ever about Jenny, he closed the laptop Angelo had lent him and walked to the patio railing to look out over the city of Athens. A steady breeze blew away most of the normal overlying smog, so the view of the city cen
ter, including the Acropolis, was fairly clear. The ocean, dark blue and vast, stretched onward in the distance.
It was beautiful, picturesque, and all he wanted was to get out of Athens. The sooner he got to Moscow, the sooner he could get to Turkey and the sooner he could be done with March, get Jenny back and put this entire mess behind him. And then what?
His relationship with Ally was changing. Did he have the balls to take a step forward with his daughter, or was he going to do what he always did and take two steps back by pretending everything was the same as before?
Fine. Everything was just fine.
But it wasn’t.
For so many years he’d been content, if not completely fulfilled with his career in the military, but for years restlessness had been building inside him to the point that he no longer knew what he wanted for his future.
And Kate? He didn’t even want to think about her, the messiest piece of this whole deal. At least she’d been easy to avoid, cloistered as she’d been all morning in the lower-level workroom. He hadn’t seen her since just after dawn. She’d woken within a few minutes of him and come into the kitchen right after he’d made a pot of coffee. After he’d handed her a cup, she’d silently disappeared downstairs.
He could get out now and head to Russia, leaving Kate here to finish the Chaos statue. But what if there was something else she needed? What if some problem developed in replicating that clay figure? He had to wait it out. No way around it.
The patio door opened behind him and Riley turned to find Nadi coming toward him, her arms outstretched. “Kali méra, James. It’s so good to see you. You look so well. The years have been good to you.”
He wasn’t so sure about that. “Hérete, Nadi.” He returned her hug and stepped back, uncomfortable as usual with her lavish shows of affection.
Her long, thick black hair, now streaked with gray, was pulled back into a clip at her nape. Her face had lost most of the plumpness that had once given her a youthful appearance. “Are you well?” he asked. “Oh, étsi k’étsi. So-so. I’ve had my ups and downs these past years, like everyone else. A bout with cancer some time ago took a lot out of me.”
“But you’re doing all right now?”