The Forty Column Castle (16 page)

We heard a click. We were locked in.

“Zach, what’s going on?”

He reached out and pulled me against him.

“Now where were we?” He brushed his lips across mine but I didn’t respond.

“Are you angry?” he asked, working his way around my face with the most exquisitely
soft kisses.

“It’s not going to work this time. I want answers. Why did Luigi lock the door? Why
are we staying here when we have a perfectly good hotel room? What’s going on?”

He sighed and tugged me along behind him to a huge sectional cream leather sofa, pushed
me down and flopped down beside me. He laid his head back and closed his eyes. That’s
the first time I’d seen him looking half-way tired.

“Start at the beginning,” I said.

“I can’t,” he said, eyes still closed. “If we ever get out of this mess, I’ll tell
you everything.”

“Out of this mess are the key words here. I’m glad you finally admit that we are in
a mess. But the important question is -- are you in the same mess I am?”

He chuckled, opened his deep brown eyes and looked at me. “Claudie, you are the most
extraordinary woman I have ever met.”

“Don’t go trying to flatter me to change the subject because I’m smarter than that.”
I frowned. I guess he was flattering me.

“My point exactly,” Zach said, sitting up and taking my hand. “By the way, that is
a sexy shirt. I particularly like the button arrangement.”

I looked down at how I had buttoned the shirt. It wasn’t just one button out of alignment,
it was two off, and I looked like the town drunk. I sighed and rebuttoned them, Zach
watching the operation with intense interest.

“Better?”

He grinned. “As I was saying, you are extraordinary. That performance back in the
taxi was A-1. I’ve not seen better on Broadway.”

“Thanks. I thought I got it into it pretty good.”

“Want to continue?” The mischief in his eyes would have done the devil proud.

“I’ll think about it. You haven’t answered my questions.”

He sighed. “All right. Would you believe your aunt is in this house?”

“No.”

“Or at least I think she is. We’re going to look for her as soon as everything quiets
down.”

“We are? How? The door’s locked.”

He patted the pocket with the plastic cards. “I’m world class when it comes to opening
locked doors. Failing that, there’s always the balcony.”

I eyed him suspiciously. “How could Mr. Bellomo have her in this house?”

“Because he’s the one that sprung her from jail.”

“You’re kidding.” I searched his eyes. “You’re not kidding. How do you know? I mean,
how did you figure that out?”

“The way he talked when you were passed out. I know for a fact that Mr. Bellomo deals
in antiquities among his many other businesses.”

“You mean he smuggles, too.”

Zach frowned. “I don’t think he does directly, like we would never find his fingerprints
on the goods. Others would do it for him.”

I sat forward. “How do you know all this?”

“The Internet. You can find out just about anything you want there.”

“What? You mean they have
Smugglers.com
, and he’s listed?”

He snorted. “No, I mean you can access a boatload of useful info on the Internet,
and then you connect the dots. Understand?”

I nodded my head and thought about that. I used the Internet extensively, and it was
amazing what one could find with search engines and a little ingenuity.

“But I don’t understand how nice, grandpa Bellomo, got her out or why he wanted to.”

Zach leaned close to my ear. “Because he happens to be one of the most powerful men
in the Mediterranean basin. It would be nothing for him to arrange for a few well-placed
bribes and bingo,” he snapped his fingers, “she’s sprung. Bribes are not unheard of
in this part of the world, you know,” saying it like he was imparting a big secret.

“But why would he want to do this for Aunt Elizabeth?” I was baffled.

“Love.”

“Love?”

“He’s in love with your aunt.” Then he tapped the air with his finger. “But his romantic
interest in your aunt doesn’t quite fit the picture.”

I was still grappling with the idea of someone having a romantic interest in my Aunt
Elizabeth. “You mean you think he’s in love with her? Isn’t he married?”

“That wouldn’t mean anything in this part of the world. But no, he isn’t married.
He’s a widower. Married for years, has kids but the wife died several years back.
He keeps this house for business purposes, but he seems to spend a lot of time here.
Must like the weather.”

“Wow.” I slouched back on the couch to digest that one. I kicked off my cute sandals,
since they were starting to pinch and dug my toes in the fluffy beige carpet in front
of the couch. Most of the room was beige, cream and dove gray. He must use the same
decorator as the Amathus Hotel.

Could Mr. Bellomo be in love with my aunt? No, too far out. Too, too far out. All
the women in the world, glamorous, wealthy, well-placed, and Mr. Bellomo falls in
love with Aunt Elizabeth?

“No, I don’t believe it,” I said aloud.

“Don’t believe what?”

“That he’s got a thing for my aunt.”

Zach shrugged. “Stranger things have happened. Some men find the matronly type a real
turn on.”

I looked at him.

“Not me, but everybody’s different.” He spread his hands like it wasn’t his idea.

“But even if he were in love with her, why take the chance to get her out of jail?”

“Because he thinks she knows where Berengaria’s jewels are, and he’s interested in
the jewels. And maybe he is in love with her.”

“Now you are smoking something. You’re saying Mr. Bellomo wants my aunt out of jail
because she knows where these phantom jewels are and because he’s fallen in love with
her?”

“Yes. Make a great book, wouldn’t it?”

I ignored the comment. “Why does he want the jewels?”

“Because he’s in the antiquities business and because they’re worth a lot of money,
that’s why.”

“But he’s an upstanding business man.”

Zach hooted. “Oh, c’mon Claudie, you are about to ruin your extraordinary reputation.
He’s a business man in the big leagues. They don’t live in a black-white world like
ordinary citizens. Everything for them is shades of gray.”

We sat silent for a spell, heads back against the couch, staring up towards the ceiling.

Unbelievable.

“You think there’s anything to eat or drink around here?” I asked. My processing functions
were on overload and needed fuel. “I don’t want to think about what time it is.”

Zach stood and looked around. “Looks like we have one balcony, a room leading off
from this one, probably the bed room.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and I ignored him.
“Wet bar over there. There’ll be a refrigerator with the wet bar, so let’s have a
look.”

“Great,” he said, showing off an amber colored bottle. “Wild Turkey. Perfect.” He
banged around some more. I heard cupboard doors open and close. “What do you want
to drink?”

“How about a big bottle of water.”

“Coming right up.”

He shuffled over, arms laden with junk food. Potato chips, crackers, cheese, nuts,
and a big bottle of water.

“Ice?”

“Not for me, it’s cold.”

He sighed over the Wild Turkey like Don Giovanni over a beautiful woman and poured
a healthy slug into a whiskey glass. I worked on my water and helped myself to potato
chips. Better than steak.

My mind was whirling trying to put all the pieces of the puzzle together. If my aunt
were here did that mean she was shacking up with Mr. Bellomo? Had he seduced her?
I didn’t even want to think of it. Visions of a love slave, my aunt in a harem costume
chained to a bed came to mind. I shook that one away. She wasn’t the type. How did
she know where the jewels were, if there were jewels?

Zack was doing neck nuzzles again, pushing me gently into the couch that would have
fit three couples easy.

I pulled away and tapped on his chest. “Hold on. What about my aunt? When are we going
to look for her?”

He unbuttoned my blouse.

“Yum. These are very ripe.”

“Zach?” I was having a hard time concentrating.

“We need to wait a bit longer before we look for your aunt. We might as well make
good use of the time.”

“I love the way you do that.”

He had the rest of my clothes off in no time. He had a devastating way of overcoming
my defenses with his mouth.

A while later he said, “I take it that was to your liking.” He stroked my thigh and
sipped Wild Turkey.

I blew out a breath. I was the love slave. “I can’t move.”

“As soon as you recover and feel up to it, we’ll have a look around and see if we
can find your aunt.”

I dozed off. And awoke snuggled up on the couch with a white soft-as-silk blanket
over me with bright sunshine pouring into my eyes. And no Zach.

I groaned. My head was pounding from hitting it on the concrete pavement. I inched
up on my elbow, shielding my eyes, trying to figure out where the bright sunlight
and breeze were coming from and discovered French doors wide open onto a balcony.
Beyond the bars in the balcony rail floated the beautiful blue, dazzling Mediterranean
Sea.

I could live like this. I could also use some orange juice for my dry mouth, so I
threw off the lovely soft blanket and padded my way to the wet bar in search of refreshment.
And yelped. There stood a man I had never seen before. I tried to cover my naked body
with my arms but that didn’t conceal anything, so I ran back to the couch and retrieved
the blanket and wrapped it around me. Only then did I dare look at the man who stood
at the wet bar, watching me.

“Who are you?” I asked in my most commanding voice. “What are you doing in my room?”

“I am Rodolfo. I have brought you something to eat.” He spoke in a good English butler
I-see-naked-women-all-the-time tone.

That was the problem with having servants. You never knew where they were going to
turn up and at what embarrassing moments.

“Thanks,” I said, trying to sound casual and cool and not at all mortified that he
had seen me naked. Me naked with observers was becoming a too frequent occurrence.

“I will leave it here. Is there anything else you will need?”

“Yes, could you tell me what time it is?”

“Lunch time. Twelve noon.”

“Holy Smokes.”

The man walked stiffly across the room to exit through the massive white doors we
had entered sometime last night.

“One other thing, sir. Could you tell me where my friend, Mr. Lamont, is?”

“I believe he left early this morning. Is there anything else, madam?”

I didn’t reply, and he left. I didn’t reply because my brain was in a tail spin. Zach
left? How could he leave me? But if he left, then I was free to go and find Aunt Elizabeth.

I ran around looking in every corner of the suite to make sure no one else was there.
Satisfied I was alone, I headed for the shower. I’d find my aunt and get us both out
of the palace before Zach came back. I wasn’t sure how I would do that, but it was
worth a try.

The bath room, a term that didn’t do it justice, was a thousand times more sumptuous
than the Amathus Hotel with a fabulous in-ground Jacuzzi that I was dying to try.
But I made do with a quick shower in a pearl gray marble stall. Those might have been
solid gold shower fixtures. Mirrors abounded on three sides of the room. Four sinks.
I wasn’t sure what you could use all those for. Group teeth scrubbing maybe.

I let the hot water steam over me, all the while thinking over why Zack had left when
we were supposed to be looking for my aunt. Maybe he had found her. I hoped he hadn’t
kidnapped her and gone off in search of those stupid, non-existent jewels.

The shower revived me. Exotic creams stood in alluring rows along the sink. I treated
myself to “Ancient Breezes”, helped myself to toothpaste and fresh never-out-of-the-package
tooth brush, and dragged a comb through my wet hair. No time to dry it.

Clothes. I shook out the little black dress. At least Zach hadn’t locked up my purse
again. I searched and found my cute sandals. The aroma of food overcame me, and I
hurried over to the tray Rodolfo left, ate a few grape leaves, downed a glass of orange
juice from the frig.

Now to find my way out. I slung my purse over my shoulder and stopped. Take my other
pants and top or no? Maybe I’d be back, maybe not. A scary thought hit. I was on my
own. No Zach to protect me, although I couldn’t commend him much on his protective
skills. I shook my head. I couldn’t let fear find a foothold. I squared my shoulders
and marched to the door.

Gently, I pushed the handle down and pulled. The door opened. Success. I peeked out.
Luigi was sitting on a chair by the door, dozing. At the sound of the door, he sputtered
awake and glared at me.

“Hi,” I said. “Nice day. I thought I’d go for a walk.”

He shook his head and waved that great, shaggy appendage in the direction of the room.
I got the message, backed in and shut the door. No sense making Luigi mad. He was
bigger than I was.

Now what?

Zach had mentioned the balcony if he couldn’t get out the door. I’d give it a try.
The sound of the waves said the beach was not far away. I looked over the balcony.
The beach was directly below. Far below. We were on the second floor, and the house
seemed to sit on an outcrop of rock. Under me was nothing but rock. I looked to see
if there were any other balconies.

One. There was one about a half a mile from mine, or so it seemed. I had a corner
room. Along the smooth, white wall from my room to the other with the balcony were
several large windows, the crank out kind. Some were open. On more careful study,
I saw that a ledge ran the length of the building between the balconies. A ledge that
maybe one foot would fit on. If I did the unthinkable and walk to the next balcony
on that skinny ledge, what guarantee did I have that there would be a friendly face
in the room?