Page 17 of The Honeymoon Heist

“We literally have no idea. Like I told the police earlier, we had a little bit of a tiff with them at the White Grotto, but it wasn’t violent. I saw them again at La Sponda last night sitting across the room, but thought it was a coincidence. Now I believe they were stalking us, thinking we were rich or something.”

I waited for him to respond. He did not. I said, “So, what doyouthink?”

“I think you’re not telling me everything.”

“Why? What did I say that doesn’t jibe with what happened?”

“Well, I’m wondering how a family on vacation in Positano—one that’s ostensibly here to look at a church—could kill two of Salvatore’s most skilled hit men. How is that?”

I looked at Jennifer again, then said, “I don’t know what you mean. We got lucky. We were in a fight for our lives.”

He followed my gaze to Jennifer, then came back to me, saying, “As you Americans say, that’s bullshit. If these guys came in to kill you, you’d be dead—which, given the weapons and the fact that they had studied the lock enough to know how to break in, tells me that’s what they intended. You’re not dead. Why is that?”

He knew more about those guys than he was letting on, and he suspected me of being involved in whatever it was. At that point, my SERE training kicked in:Do not try to outwit the interrogator. Revert to delaying tactics. Stall. Stall. Stall.

I said, “I told you, we were lucky. That’s all. I don’t know what they wanted, but all we want is to go home.”

He smiled and said, “Lucky, huh? One chased your wife off a roof, and while she managed to stay on it, hanging by a single arm, he ended up three stories below in a mush of brains. And you somehow managed to disarm a trained assassin while simultaneously tripping him so he broke his neck. Pretty damn lucky, you’re right.”

I said, “I don’t know what to tell you but the truth.”

“Does your wife do a lot of roof-hopping at an archeological research firm?”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means that the leap from your balcony to the roof next door would be a miracle for some of our own circus performers. And you causing that guy to trip just so, where his neck hammered the bed frame while holding a pistol, is beyond the realm of possible.”

“What do you want me to say? It’s the truth.”

He stood up and said, “I believe it’s the truth. I don’t doubt the veracity of what occurred. What I don’t believe is that you’re simply lucky.”

I nodded, then said, “So, what’s that mean?”

He stood up and handed me a card, saying, “If what you’re telling me is true, then you’re okay. But if you’re not, then you’re a target, and Salvatore will not quit. If you change your mind, give me a call.”

I took the card and showed him to the door, saying, “All we wanted was a vacation, but I’ll take your words under advisement. My wife already wants to leave.”

He exited through the door, then said, “Being in the United States won’t protect you. If you’ve crossed him somehow, his reach is long. Think about that.”

I closed the door and went back into the bedroom. Amena said, “You didn’t tell him about the picture in the grotto.”

I said, “I didn’t want to cause more confusion. Let’s just go meet the museum people, then pack up and get out of here.”

Jennifer said, “What if he’s right? What if that Salvatore guy chases us?”

“Why? Why would he do that? What the hell did we do?”

Amena said, “We saw that painting. And then we saw it again in the gallery.”

Chapter 11

Sitting on a bench outside a laundromat on the upper road from Villa Magia, Miles watched the two body bags being laboriously hauled up the stairs. He said, “I can’t believe those goons actually killed them.”

Buck watched the bodies get loaded into a van, saying, “I wonder if they killed the child, too. That would be pretty shitty.”

“We need to get out of here before we get roped into the investigation for this mess.”

Buck looked at his watch and said, “We need to get paid first. Come on. Let’s get down to the bottom and meet the Guidos. We’ve fulfilled our end of the bargain.”

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