Page 20 of The Honeymoon Heist

While I still wanted to think it was because we’d encroached on someone’s drug den with that cave look, I couldn’t see any other reason. Itwasthe common denominator. “Well, let’s just meet these people, be polite, and we can go on home if that’s what you guys want.”

Jennifer said, “We’re flying out of Naples.”

“Yeah?”

“That’s where the investigator said the mob boss lives.”

We reached the bottom of the stairs, and I chuckled, saying, “That guy isn’t going to be tracking us.”

We wound through the cobblestone streets until we reached the entrance to the old Roman excavations, a little sloping alley that looked more like a tunnel ending at a glass door. At the bottom was a woman who appeared to be a college student holding a clipboard. I said, “That’s it? That’s who we’re meeting?”

Jennifer said, “That’s what the guy who chased me last night thought.”

I laughed and said, “Touché.”

We walked down the ramp and the young woman said, “Nephilim Logan?”

Her English was impeccable, with only a hint of an accent. I smiled and said, “Yes, but call me Pike.”

She said, “I’m Bianca, and I was told to show you the work we’re doing down below. You have a company that does the same thing, yes?”

I said, “Yep. I appreciate the courtesy. This is Jennifer and my daughter, Amena.”

She looked at Amena and said, “You like this sort of thing?”

Amena said, “I don’t know. I’ve never seen one.”

Bianca laughed and I said, “Hey, no offense, but... what’s your job?”

I saw the aggravation immediately. She knew why I was asking. She looked at Jennifer to see if she felt the same way, and Jennifer said, “Don’t pay attention to him. He has no social graces. We appreciate you letting us visit.”

Bianca smiled and said, “Well, if you must know, I’m the project manager on this dig. I got the job after a dig in Israel, which was after I received my master’s degree from Cornell.”

She looked at me, then drove in the knife. “It’s a school in New York. You probably haven’t heard about it because they don’t have a big football team.”

Jennifer laughed, and I said, “Okay, okay. Just wanted to make sure we weren’t following a tour guide paying for tuition. I said ‘no offense.’”

She smiled back and said, “None taken. I’m used to it.”

Jennifer said, “Trust me, so am I.”

And they bonded like they’d been in a sorority together for a decade. She opened the door, letting us in. We wound down a stairwell with Bianca describing the ongoing work, then went to the left, into a room that had an excavation surrounded by glass floors to watch the work. I heard the door above us open again, and she said, “Hang on. I should have locked that after we entered. Nobody’s allowed in here at this time.”

She disappeared from view, going back up the stairs, and I looked at Jennifer, saying, “Sorry about that, but if we want to claim it on our taxes, it can’t be a tour guide.”

She grinned, saying, “I know, and as usual, you being an ass has left me being the hero. She loves me.”

I heard footsteps coming back down and saw two men in business suits, but no Bianca. Both were young, but their eyes showed a history that belied their years. I’d seen that knowledge in young men once before. In Iraq.

I said, “Hey, are you guys with the excavation?”

One of them said, “No. We’d like you to follow us for a conversation. There is a man who wishes to talk.”

I immediately knew who they were. I said, “No. That’s not going to happen. Where’s Bianca?”

He pulled out a pistol—a small Walther PPK—and did nothing but show it. He didn’t even point it my way. He said, “She’s upstairs, and she said to tell you the tour is over.”

He was supremely confident, and I knew instinctively that he’d done this before. The men we’d met last night were enforcers, but this guy was the first team. He was a pure killer. I thought about trying to take him, but I knew the man behind him was armed as well, and I’d just end up getting everyone I loved killed.

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