Marjorie Thelen - The Forty Column Castle

“I found out this morning. That’s why I got beat up. Mr. Bellomo is harboring me, and I can’t let him do that. The exposure is dangerous to him. Besides, he’s quite besotted with your aunt and wants to clear her name as quickly as possible.”

“Is he one of the good guys?”

Zach nodded. “As good as good can get in the world of trade. Like I said, there is no black and white in business, only shades of gray.” He finished his drink and set the glass on the coffee table. He turned to look at me with those wonderful deep brown eyes. “I am going to miss you, Claudie Princess.”

He leaned over and kissed me chastely on the lips. His were still puffy.

“How are you going to leave?”

He held up a set of keys. “Mr. Bellomo is loaning me the use of his yacht. Now I think I shall make use of the shower in this palatial establishment. Care to join me?”

“I’ll wash your back.”

He grabbed my hand and lead me into the bath room.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “Look at that bathing pool. Let’s have a go.”

He turned on the gold faucets full blast, and the tub began to fill. I selected bath oil called Aphrodite’s Secrets from the array of glistening bottles in an alcove by the tub and dumped in half the bottle. He pulled me into the shower while the tub filled, and we washed each other with a huge bar of exquisite lavender soap. His bruises were discolored, and I tried to be careful washing the tender flesh. While the water poured over us, our bodies did the talking. By the time we had finished and shut off the shower, the bath pool was filled. We slid into its comforting warmth. I could get used to luxury.

“A Ben Franklin for your thoughts, Claudie Princess.”

We were lying in the pool, steam rising around us, my back to his chest, his arm under my breasts.

“Be careful, Princess,” he said, as I tried to turn over and caught him in the bruised ribs.

“I want to see your face,” I said.

“How do I look?”

“Not so puffy. But purple and yellow aren’t your colors.” I hesitated. “Zach?”

“Yes?” he said, resting his head on the rounded lip of the tub, his eyes closed.

“I was thinking. Maybe there’s someplace you and I could go no one would ever find us. We could disappear and find an island and live in a grass shack and fish for our food.”

Zach laughed. “Great fantasy. You would want to spend the rest of your life with me on an island? I’m flattered Claudie Princess. What about your mutual fund?”

“I can manage that from anywhere. What about your smuggling business?”

He smirked. “I can manage that from anywhere.” He searched my eyes. “You really want to go with me, don’t you?”

I nodded.

“I’m flattered. But it will be too dangerous for you. Look what happened to me this morning. I couldn’t have that happen to you. You would leave me vulnerable, and I can’t have that.”

“How will I ever know what happened to you?”

“I’ll get a message to you. We’ll rendezvous on that island you’re dreaming up for us.”

Of course, I had no intention of letting him leave without me. Even though I harbored doubts about what would happen to my aunt if Mr. Bellomo found Berengaria’s jewels, I felt she was safe for the moment. On the other hand, I wanted to know who was smuggling antiquities on the island of Cyprus. I was not going to sit idly by with the love birds while Mr. Bellomo pulled some strings. Paying people off to drop the charges against us wasn’t my way of clearing my name. Pieces of the puzzle were not fitting together, and I had some hunches. I intended to hitch my wagon to Zachariah Lamont’s star and hope that he would lead me to the answers.

After our interlude in the bath, Zach insisted I get into bed and tucked me in with the tenderness of a mother with a new born babe. I thought for an instant that he’d change his mind and crawl in beside me, but he left after a wistful look back. Something was driving him, and I wanted to find out what that was.

As soon as I heard the door close and click, I was out of bed and into my black dress. He thought that locking the hall door would keep me in. Wrong I figured if I could make it to the dock and gazebo before he did, half my battle would be won. I scurried down the back steps to the pool area and, keeping to the shadows, ran to the beach and out onto the dock. I kept looking back as I ran, to see if anyone was following. I made it to the gazebo half-way out on the water and crouched down, looking to see if Zach were on the beach. Nothing. Something must have delayed him. I ran the final distance to the yacht where it sat at anchor, leaped up the steps and on board. This was a big boat. Sixty feet long, easy.

The secured area around Mr. Bellomo’s house included the beach and, in my opinion, was the weakest point in the defense of the Bellomo fortress. No one guarded the boat as far as I could see. I watched the house, crouched inside the well that housed the cockpit. I wondered if the police were watching Bellomo’s house. I couldn’t see the main street. There were no other boats anchored on the water.

Two figures emerged from the pool area, walking slowly. The one with white hair gestured with his hands and the other, much taller, was intent on listening. They paused at the water’s edge and faced each other, still engaged in conversation. They shook hands, and Zach walked out onto the dock that led to the yacht. Mr. Bellomo waved and headed back to the house. What had they been discussing?

I had to find a better hiding place on a boat that was so sleek and smooth, it looked like something from outer space. The cabin door was unlocked. I slipped inside where I could watch Zach through the cabin windows. He went to the cockpit and started the engine, then expertly cast off. He didn’t turn on lights, not even the running lights. The light of the moon and stars were bright enough. The sleek yacht headed straight out to sea instead of turning toward the east. Zach was headed west toward Pafos but had to go quite a distance out before he cleared the cape just west of Limasol.

Of course, I didn’t want him to find me so he could turn around and dump me off. I searched for someplace to hide. I was in the living area, furnished with a big, cream leather couch and matching chairs. A long galley and dining area ran the length of one side and doors opened off the other. The last door looked the most promising. I opened that one and entered the master suite replete with its own bath and king size bed. The room had a new smell to it. The carpet was thick and furnishings were Italian Rococo. I kicked off my sandals and lay down on the bed. Zach would stay at the helm, I figured. I could get some rest.

But sleep wouldn’t come. I stared at the ceiling, watching the play of water shadows. Somewhere out there were thieves who had started all this. Thieves to whom Zach had a connection. I wondered what he would to do now. My bet was that he was going to rendezvous with a few more thieves since his objective was retrieving Berengaria’s jewels.

Footsteps jarred me from my reverie, and before I could move, the door opened. Zach walked to the bed and turned on the lamp. A curious glow lit his eyes. The lamplight cast shadows across his face. Discoloration from the fight lingered around his eye.

“You don’t listen,” he said with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Somewhere he had found clean pressed khaki pants and crisp white short sleeve shirt.

“I couldn’t let you continue on by yourself. Who would bail you out, if you got into trouble?”

I scooted over on the bed. He joined me, putting his arm around my shoulders. The bedclothes rustled as he settled in beside me and leaned against the headboard.