Suspicious (On the Run) (21 page)

“So the plaque
was
a red herring,” Zoe said. “I told Alessi it might be.”

“She needed an explanation for how the thieves got the Flawless Set out of the exhibit that would prevent the police from looking into who would have had access after closing time. By using the plaque, she focused their attention on the wrong time,” Harrington said.

“And the wrong people.” Zoe shivered despite the warm night. “If all had gone according to her plan, Alessi would have found the bracelet, and we would have spent the rest of our time in Rome in some jail cell.”

“Yes, but it didn’t happen that way, thank goodness,” Harrington said. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He put down his drink and removed his phone from his pocket. “I am forwarding this letter from Mrs. Davray to your email.”

Jack took the phone from him, a wary look on his face. At the mention of Mrs. Davray, all the concern about the business swept back in. The craziness in the mountains had pushed it out of Zoe’s thoughts, but now the prospect of difficult times for the business came back into focus. It felt like a weight had landed on her shoulders.

Jack read a few lines then looked at Harrington. “You’re sure this is from Mrs. Davray?”

“Yes. Rather frightening how quickly she has switched points of view, isn’t it?”

Jack read a few lines aloud. “She says she is ‘grateful for the assistance that Safe Haven has provided to Millbank and Proust, and we are once again indebted to them.’ ”

“Wow. And she swore we’d never do business again,” Zoe said.

“Just shows how much impact a few news items can have,” Harrington said.

“Thank you,” Jack said.

“Not my doing. Well, not
all
my doing. The various police forces want to get their ‘props,’ as I believe you call it.”

Zoe laughed at his exact diction as he pronounced the slang. “Well, as long as it keeps Safe Haven operating, that’s a good thing.”

Jack lifted his glass to Zoe. “I’m usually not one to praise the press, but in this case, I agree.”

“Since we’re discussing business, I have a proposition,” Harrington said.

Here it comes
, she thought, that offer for additional work that Jack was hoping for. The business might survive after all. Zoe scooted her chair back. “I think I’ll take a last stroll around the campo, leave you two alone to talk.”

“But you are the one I want to talk to.”

“Me? You want to talk business with me?”

“Yes.” Harrington glanced at Jack. “Of course, Millbank and Proust wants to continue our association with Safe Haven. You can see that from the tone of Mrs. Davray’s letter. You were invaluable…after you stopped suspecting me, but we will gloss over that detail,” he said with a quick smile. Turning to Zoe, he said, “I have a short time left with the company. After I retire, I plan to set up my own insurance investigation firm. Would you consider working with me as a recovery consultant?”

“Me?” It seemed to be the only word she could get out.

“Yes. This case and the prior one you helped out with revealed you have a unique ability. In short, you have a knack for this sort of thing—tracking things down.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Jack said. “She tracked me down.”

“Twice,” Zoe reminded him.

Harrington said, “Yes, I heard. You’ll have to fill me in on the whole story someday. I’d love to hear it now, but I must finish my pitch.” He leaned over the table. “You’re persistent and innovative. And you have a…let’s call it a unique network to gather information from.”

Zoe couldn’t help but smile. “That is a delicate way to phrase it,” she said, thinking of all the people she’d connected with during the last few years. “Definitely sounds better than crooks, ex-hackers, and dodgy antique dealers. I’d never thought of it that way, but you’re right. I do know a lot of diverse people in different areas. I even know some FBI agents and an investigative reporter.”

“But you aren’t in law enforcement or insurance, so you have an unusual approach, a fresh one. We often need that.” Harrington leaned forward. “What do you say? Will you consider it?”

Zoe looked to Jack. “Can you believe this?”

He grinned at her. “Yes, I can. In fact, I’m not surprised at all.”

Zoe scooted her chair closer to the table. “I’m in.”

Jack laughed. “That’s my Zoe. Never the tentative approach, always in with both feet.”

“What? I love the idea, and I
am
good at finding things.”

Harrington turned to Jack. “Besides recovery, I also plan to consult with businesses—museums, private individuals, that sort of thing—and provide security assessments. Preventative maintenance, if you will. Would you be interested? ”

“Of course,” Jack said. “But don’t think it escaped me that I’m riding Zoe’s coattails into this deal.”

“Nonsense. I want both of you onboard—” he broke off as he caught the wink Jack sent Zoe. “Having a bit of fun with me, are you? Can’t have any of that. Strictly all work, no fun in my outfit. Now, what do you say we seal this deal with a toast and go find the rest of Rome’s obelisks? You have to see them all.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Zoe said. “Someone owes me a pizza.” She lowered her chin and stared at Jack.

“That should be possible,” Jack said. “We are in Rome, after all. Got to be a decent pizzeria around here somewhere.”

“Excellent.” Harrington raised his glass. “To our new partnership.”

“Our new partnership,” Zoe and Jack echoed as the three glasses clinked together.

The End

This book is for all the readers who asked for another Zoe book. Thank you for supporting the series and helping me spread the word about it. I appreciate it! As always, I'd love it if you'd post an online review or tell other readers about the series.

When I began to think about another Zoe and Jack book, I realized that in the other books in the
On the Run
series I had only mentioned Rome in passing. How could I
not
have set a book in Rome, my favorite city? How could I have overlooked it? Well, that’s rectified now with
Suspicious
. Zoe and Jack explore some of my favorite things about the city—the Pantheon, the obelisks, the fountains, the markets, and the food. There’s so much history and so many amazing sights, I couldn’t include them all, but I hope
Suspicious
gives you a taste of the Eternal City and either brings back good memories if you’ve traveled there or inspires you to visit someday. It’s a city like no other.

Now, a few points for clarification. First, the Art Squad in London is part of the Metropolitan Police, which is also known as Scotland Yard. For consistency and ease of recognition, I used the term Scotland Yard in this story.

Second, I had to resurrect a business for the story. If you look for the laundry/bag deposit shop near the Termini, it is now closed, but it did exist at one time. If you’re looking for a place to drop your luggage for a few hours in Rome, your best bet now is the Left Luggage area of the Termini, or you can try a private pick up and drop off luggage service.

For invaluable and interesting background research on art theft and art theft recovery, I read
The Rescue Artist
by Edward Dolnick and
Priceless
by Robert K. Wittman. Both are excellent reads, if you’re curious about how lost art is recovered.

You can check out some of the images that inspired me and some of the places mentioned in
Suspicious
Pinterest page.

A native Texan, Sara is the author of the
Ellie Avery
mystery series and the
On The Run
suspense series. As a military spouse, Sara has moved around the country (frequently!) and traveled internationally, which inspired her latest suspense novels.
Publishers Weekly
called Sara’s books, "satisfying," "well-executed," and "sparkling."

Sara loves all things bookish, considers dark chocolate a daily requirement, and is on a quest for the best bruschetta. Connect with Sara at
www.SaraRosett.com
or sign up for her newsletter
here
, but don't worry, your info won't be shared with anyone else and Sara will only contact you when she has a new release. You can also find her on
Facebook
,
Twitter
,
Pinterest
, or
Goodreads
.

An
Ellie Avery
Mystery

by Sara Rosett

Published by Kensington Books

Used with Permission

I slid into a lilac-colored Adirondack chair and propped my sandaled feet on the matching ottoman. I flexed my toes, admiring my Seashell Pink toenails, and then surveyed the view from the hotel’s veranda. A tiny sliver of the moon hung in the navy blue sky, but even at seven, it wasn’t fully dark. The sun wouldn’t set for about another hour. The two-lane road was busy, packed with cars inching along and families trooping back from the beach or off to dinner. I placed a call to Angela and left her a message, saying I was in town, but didn’t expect to see Ben until tomorrow. I put the phone beside the not-a-Leah-Marshall-purse I’d brought down from my room and settled back to enjoy the view.

It felt odd to sit with absolutely nothing to do. No kids to keep an eye on, no e-mails to reply to, no bills to pay, no dinner to cook. I perused the bar menu and ordered a caesar salad with the dressing on the side and a tall peach ice tea. I wanted to fit into my swimsuit at the end of the week, but I did splurge with a piece of chocolate cake for dessert. I figured with the salad and the cake it was a zero sum game, calorie-wise. Mitch called and we chatted. I relayed the kids’ reaction to the beach and their eagerness to spend time alone with his sister, Summer.

We hung up and I settled back in my chair. I alternated watching the parade of people on the street and the slices of the water I could see between the high-rise hotels across the street, but as the sun sank, I found my gaze drawn to the hotels. A checkerboard of lights glowed from the rooms, some with the curtains wide open despite the growing dusk. I felt a bit like Jimmy Stewart in
Rear Window
, peeking into the lives of people who either had forgotten to close the curtains or didn’t care. In one room, two kids jumped on the bed, their hair floating around their faces. In another, a woman paced back and forth from her suitcase to the closet, hanging up her clothes. Farther over, a couple stood on their balcony, sipping from wine glasses. Were they watching me, watching them?

A movement above the couple drew my attention up to a balcony on one of the higher floors, where two figures were locked in a tight embrace. The single glowing lamp in the room behind them made their figures into silhouettes. Okay . . . enough voyeurism, I thought as I shifted my gaze away, but then the couple moved jerkily and I found myself watching them, despite the feeling that I should look away.

There was something wrong. The couple broke apart and I could see their outlines clearly against the low light, a tall man with broad shoulders and a smaller woman with short hair. Their stiff arms locked together as they shuffled backward. He pinned the woman against the railing, shoved her shoulders back, then he upended her, and she went over the edge.

On the Run
series

(suspense)

Elusive

Secretive

Deceptive

Ellie Avery
series

(cozy mystery)

Moving is Murder

Staying Home is a Killer

Getting Away is Deadly

Magnolias, Moonlight, and Murder

Mint Juleps, Mayhem, and Murder

Mimosas, Mischief, and Murder

Mistletoe, Merriment and Murder

Milkshakes, Mermaids, and Murder