by John Sneeden
“Hey, give that back,” she said.
“You’ll get it back in a few minutes.” Zane stood, retrieved his gun, and turned on a nearby lamp.
As if sensing he wasn’t going to hurt her, Emily sank into a nearby chair, rubbed her face a few times, and looked at him. “Who are you?”
“This may surprise you,” he replied, “but we’re here to find out what happened to your father.”
“That’s nice, but it doesn’t answer my question.”
“Zane,” he said. “My name is Zane.”
Footsteps came toward them from below. Carmen and Amanda appeared at the top of the stairs. Carmen’s eyes widened when she saw a strange girl sitting at the table. She gave Zane a questioning look.
“You were right after all. There was someone here.” He gestured toward Emily. “Ladies, I’d like you to meet Emily Pauling, Dr. Pauling’s daughter.”
Emily seemed surprised there were others.
Zane nodded at the new arrivals. “These are my associates, Carmen and Amanda.”
“I guess I was right about the light in the window,” Carmen said.
“Emily and I were just getting acquainted,” Zane said.
Emily’s eyes shifted from one face to the other. “Look, you seem okay, but technically, you’re trespassing on private property. I’d really like to know who all of you are, and I don’t mean your full names.”
Carmen gave Zane a look indicating he should do the talking. Zane turned to Emily. “We were asked to come look into your father’s disappearance.” He almost used the word death but caught himself. While it was likely Pauling was dead, Zane didn’t want to poison whatever small hope Emily held onto. “I can assure you our purposes are honorable.”
There was some measure of understanding in Emily’s eyes. She seemed to sense he could hurt her if he’d wanted to. “Who asked you to come here?”
This time, Carmen answered. “We don’t work for the government, but they asked us to look into the case for them. As you probably know, the Venetian police aren’t treating this as a missing person case yet. We’re convinced there was foul play involved and therefore wanted to move before the trail got cold.”
Emily winced at the mention of foul play but also seemed satisfied with Carmen’s answer. “So you’re private investigators?”
“Yes, you might say that,” Zane said. “Now, I have a question. What are you doing here?”
“The same thing as you.” Emily ran a hand through her hair. “The Venice police have been completely unhelpful. I had a spare key, so I came to have a look around, to see if I could find something.”
“And did you?” Amanda asked.
“Nothing so far. I did find a laptop in Dad’s bedroom and had just powered it up when I heard someone coming in downstairs.”
“You’ve got sharp ears,” Zane said.
“I got that from my mom.” She laughed. “Apparently, they weren’t sharp enough though. I didn’t know you came back up.”
“Were you aware of any projects your father was working on?” Carmen asked.
Emily shook her head without hesitation. “I was not into the whole archaeology thing, so we didn’t talk much about it. Why do you ask?”
At this point, Zane couldn’t think of a good reason to keep her in the dark. In fact, she could probably provide them with some helpful information. He held her gaze. “Someone received a cryptic text from your father. It seemed—”
“Who?” Emily leaned forward.
“An old colleague of his.” Zane realized there was no soft way to communicate what he was about to say. “The text seemed to indicate he was in some sort of danger. It was sent on the day—”
“Why weren’t the police told about this?” Emily looked accusingly at all of them. “If they had that information, they might be working on the case right now.”
“We think there is something bigger at play here. That’s another reason we’re involved. Until we know what that is we—”
“I’m his daughter. The FBI never told me anything. They only told me that one of Dad’s former co-workers was concerned.”
“Which is technically true,” Carmen said.
“The text… what did it say? This is my father. I want to know.”
In the interest of full disclosure, Zane pulled out his smartphone and accessed a secure Delphi app. He then found the screen grab of the text and handed it to her. “Here it is.”
Emily read it several times. When she finished, she set the phone down on the table, pressed her hands against her face, and began to cry. Carmen crossed over and sat in the chair next to her, draping an arm across her shoulder.
Zane remained silent, letting her grieve. She’d probably held out hope there was some mundane explanation for her father’s absence—an archaeological dig that was out of range of cell towers or a getaway with a new girlfriend. He didn’t like being the bearer of bad news but felt Emily deserved to know. Besides, if they wanted her cooperation, they needed to tell her as much as they could.
A couple of minutes later, Emily sat up straight again and wiped her eyes with the cuff of her sweater.
Carmen rubbed her shoulder briefly before pulling her hand away. “Don’t give up hope. We’re going to find out what happened.”
After a minute of silence, Zane said, “Anything you can tell us about your father’s work would be helpful.”
Emily sniffed a couple of times then exhaled. “I do know he’d been extremely busy recently, even busier than usual. Normally, we talk regularly… at least every week. Sometimes more than that. But recently, it was every two to three weeks.”
Amanda frowned. “Did he ever mention what was keeping him so busy?”
“Now that I think about it, he did say he was working on something new, something he’d received recently.” She glanced briefly at Zane. “Sorry, I didn’t remember that before.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Carmen said. “You’re under a lot of stress. So he didn’t provide any more details?”
“No. And that’s probably because he knew I wouldn’t be interested.”
“Maybe it was something he couldn’t talk about,” Zane offered.
Emily nodded at the shelves of books. “We could always see if he had a notebook out or something.”
Amanda’s eyes widened as she noticed the library for the first time. She crossed over to one of the shelves and began pulling out books. “Unbelievable. This is an archaeologist’s dream.”
Carmen caught Emily’s eye then nodded at Amanda. “In case you hadn’t figured it out, she’s an archaeologist.”
“Amanda, keep checking those books.” Zane turned to Emily. “Why don’t you show us the laptop?”
“Okay.” Emily stood. Focusing on the hunt for clues seemed to have lifted her spirits slightly. Anything that would get her mind off what might have happened to her father was good.
Emily led them down the hall and into what appeared to be the master bedroom. After flicking on the light, she crossed to a walk-in closet. Moments later, she returned with the laptop and sat down on the bed. Carmen settled in next to her.
“This is bound to have something helpful,” Carmen said.
Zane looked around as Emily opened the device. Like the rest of the house, the room was impeccably neat. Other than a lamp on the nightstand and a decorative vase on the dresser, the room was bare and minimalist—no shoes on the floor, no coat hung over a chair. Nothing. “Let’s hope it has something because there doesn’t seem to be much lying around. Either that’s by design, or Emily’s father has a massive case of OCD.”
Emily laughed. “Dad has major OCD. It drove us crazy growing up. He even had Mom line up the canned goods in the cabinet.”
A sharp beep indicated the desktop had woken up. Zane smiled. In keeping with Pauling’s dislike for clutter, it was almost devoid of icons.
“Not exactly promising,” Carmen said.
Emily opened a few files on the hard drive. “Looks like it
’s mostly personal stuff. Bank account information, health records, contact lists.”
“You never know what might be helpful,” Zane said. “We should probably look—”
“Guys!” Amanda called down the hall. “Get down here.”
Noting the tinge of urgency, Zane and Carmen rushed out of the room. Emily followed close behind. What was going on? Was someone coming in? While she seemed concerned, there wasn’t panic in her voice.
When they arrived at the library, they found Amanda standing calmly at a table, holding a closed book in her hand. She looked up briefly then lowered her eyes to the cover again. “I found something.” She turned the cover toward them. “Recognize the name?”
“William F. Albright,” Carmen said.
Zane’s mind shifted back to the dossier. Was it another of Pauling’s colleagues? Then it hit him. He remembered the words of Pauling’s text. You can find it. Start with William F. Albright. He looked at Amanda. “That’s the name Pauling mentioned in the text.”
Amanda nodded then tapped the table. “And guess where I found this? It just happened to be the only book lying out.”
Zane had to admit it certainly seemed significant. What were the odds Pauling would mention Albright in the text then leave a book by Albright on a table in his library. “Let’s take that with us. My guess is there is some clue in there about his work.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Amanda said.
“Guys.”
It was Emily’s voice. Where was she? Zane turned back and forth but couldn’t see her. He guessed she must have slipped off while they were talking about the book.
“Over here.”
Carmen pointed down one of the aisles. Emily stood at the window, holding the blind slats open with a finger.
“I thought I heard something outside, so I came over for a peek. I think we have company.” Emily stepped back while keeping her finger in the slat.
“Go kill the lamp,” Zane told Amanda.
After she turned it off, he stepped up to the blinds and stared through the gap. The dark waters of the Venetian Lagoon spread out as far as he could see. He saw the running lights of a few boats about a quarter of a mile away, but none seemed to be moving in their direction.
“Closer in,” Emily said.
Zane shifted his gaze to the dock at the edge of the water. As it came into focus, he saw movement. Men disembarked from two boats moored there. They were dressed in black and wore bulky coats. Zane didn’t like what he was seeing—a uniform style of dress, and all of it black. An assault team was on their doorstep.
“What is it?” Carmen asked.
Zane scooted over, allowing her to look though at the same time. All the men had disembarked and were ascending the stairs connecting the dock and the promontory. Their movements were athletic, efficient. Their heads swiveled back and forth as they surveyed their surroundings. Military training.
“How many do you see?” Zane asked.
“Eleven,” Carmen said.
The men moved toward the house. As they drew near, several reached into their coats. Zane had no doubt what they were going to pull out. His pulse quickened.
“Automatics?” Carmen asked.
Zane nodded as the weapons appeared. “Looks like HK-Four-Sixteens.”
He watched as the men fanned out in formation. Six went around one side of the house and five around the other. He let the slat drop. He’d seen enough.
They were surrounded, and within minutes, the gunmen would breach the downstairs door.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THERE WAS NO time to waste. Zane looked at Amanda and pointed to the stairs. “Go to the second floor, and listen for any sounds of entry.”
“Somebody, please tell me what’s going on,” Emily said as Amanda moved off.
“We’ve got some uninvited guests.”
“Do you think they know we’re here?” Carmen asked.
“The fact that they’re drawing weapons tells me they know someone is here. They may have been watching from the lagoon.” Zane nodded at her pocket. “What do you have on you?”
“One magazine in my gun and a spare. Thirty rounds. And of course, I have our new device.”
“I have the same. Between us, that’s sixty rounds, plus whatever Amanda has.”
“I’m sure they have enough ammo to keep those rifles firing long past the time we run out.” Carmen tapped her pocket. “If we get pinned down, we can always take the nuclear option.”
Zane knew she was referring to the explosive device. For now, he wanted to focus on getting away without a fight. “Only as a last resort.”
“Remember this is the very situation these were designed for.”
Emily’s eyes widened with fear, reminding him there was a civilian under their care. Their top priority needed to be getting her to safety.
“These men are ex-military,” Zane said, “and if that’s the case, I’m guessing they’ll spread out once they come in. While one group clears the first floor, another will move to the second. They’re not going to congregate in one room, which means the device is virtually useless. We’ll fight if we have to, but right now, we need to focus on finding a way to get out without them knowing.”
A dark figure appeared at the top of the stairs. Zane pivoted with his Glock in hand. It was Amanda.
“They’re trying to breach now,” she said. “I could hear them fiddling with the lock and didn’t want them to hear me run up once they got in.”
“This is crazy,” Emily said. “Someone call the police. If you don’t, I will.”
“Go right ahead,” Zane told her. “Then you can wait the ten to fifteen minutes it will take for them to get here. Good luck with that.”
“We need to do something,” Emily complained.
A loud click and a snap carried up from below. A thump followed. The gunmen were inside. Zane sorted through several ideas.
“We do need to get going,” Carmen said.
Amanda looked at Emily. “Is there an attic or some other hidden room?”
“I’ve only been here a few times, so I don’t know much more than you do. There might be an attic…” She snapped her fingers. “Wait, I do know of something. I have no idea if it will—”
“Show us,” Zane said. “At this point, anything might be helpful.”
“This way.” Emily entered the hallway with the others just behind. About midway down, she pointed to the left. “Over here.”
Carmen flicked on her flashlight. A small square-framed door appeared near the bottom of the wall. Zane guessed it was about three feet high by three feet wide. There was some sort of control panel to the right.
“What is that?” Amanda asked.
“Laundry chute,” Carmen answered. “It’s all the rage among the wealthy in Italy now.”
Emily grabbed the handle on the top of the door and pulled it down, revealing an open metal carrier. The whole contraption looked like a miniature elevator.
Amanda’s brow furrowed. “I thought it was just a chute. You toss the laundry in, and it drops all the way to the basement.”
“The chutes are the most common design,” Carmen noted. “But here in Europe, we also use them to transport heavier items to upper floors. Television sets, and so on.”
Zane heard several successive thumps. This time, the sounds were louder. The intruders would be on their floor in a matter of minutes. “Let’s get moving.”
“We get in one at a time and go down.” Emily pointed at the control panel. There were two buttons, one to go up and one to go down. “This can be used to send the carrier down or call it back up. There is another at the bottom.”
Not wasting any time, Carmen sat on the floor and scooted into the carrier. “I’ll go down first. Once I verify it’s clear, I’ll send it back up.”
Zane nodded reluctantly. The plan was fraught with danger. Carmen could step out into a room full of gunmen on the other end. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a better idea
. They would have to go with what they had.
Once Carmen was situated, Emily pressed the Down button. There was a low whine, and Carmen and the carrier disappeared. A green light glowed on the panel, indicating the chute was in use. Seconds later, it turned red. Amanda crouched, preparing to scoot in when the time came.
Zane looked at Emily and whispered, “Get in with her when it comes back.”
“I’m not sure it will hold—”
“Just do it,” he said. “We don’t have time for four runs.”
As if on cue, Zane heard the distinct sound of boots on the floor below. Time was running out. Thankfully, the carrier arrived moments later.
“Get in.” Zane motioned toward the opening.
Amanda crawled in on all fours and moved to the back. Emily entered right behind her. She was trying to situate herself when Zane hit the Down button. There wasn’t time to get comfy. Lives were on the line.
As the carrier disappeared, Zane heard soft footfalls on the stairs. The gunmen were on the way. The panel light turned red, indicating the two girls had just arrived on the first floor. At least the other three were safe.
Something moved in Zane’s peripheral vision. He turned and looked down the hall. A beam swept across the library. Seconds later, a dark figure crept into view, facing the shelves of books, making sure no one was hidden there. In a matter of seconds, he’d turn his attention to the hallway. Keeping his eye on the man’s movements, Zane lifted his Glock.
The carrier swished back into view, making a little rattle as it stopped. The figure seemed to be turning around just as Zane crawled inside and pulled the door up. A beam of light shone down the hallway, illuminating the place where he’d been crouching just moments before. The light grew brighter as the gunman drew near. Zane cracked the door slightly and stuck his hand out. He needed to hit the button. There was a strong chance he’d be seen, but he had no choice. Finally, a finger made contact with the round surface. He mashed it down then drew his hand back as quickly as possible.
The carrier moved faster than he’d expected, causing him to fall back against the back wall. As he shot downward, Zane heard boots charging down the hall overhead. A moment later, the staccato popping of gunfire carried down from above. Bullets ripped through the top of the carrier. Zane was the proverbial fish in a barrel, or in this case, a laundry chute. It was only a matter of time before one of the rounds found his head.