Lori Wilde - Lie With Me / Destiny's Hand - Lie With Me

“She’s bringing him food, and there’s water there,” I said softly to Roman. “He doesn’t seem to be in any immediate danger.”

Help .

“But she’s worried.”

A knock sounded at the door. Releasing my hand, Roman went to open it. “Good morning, Demetria.”

Over my shoulder, I saw Demetria beam a smile at him. “Mr. Angelis, Mrs. Kostas said to fetch you. Inspector Ionescu is here. He wants to talk with you.”

“We’ll be right there.”

I turned back to Ariel. I can’t come right now . I felt her frustration and disappointment so strongly that I nearly took a step back.

I tried to reassure her. I’ll come as soon as I can. I’ll look for you on the beach where we were yesterday . I pictured the crescent-shaped stretch of sand as clearly as I could in my mind. I hoped that she understood as she leaped to the branches of a nearby cypress tree and then disappeared.

AS IT TURNED OUT, Roman and I had to wait our turn to talk to Inspector Ionescu. When Demetria led us out onto the terrace, he was seated at the same table he’d used yesterday. It was located at the far end, isolated from the other tables. This time Alexi sat across from him. There were two men in uniform standing behind my cousin.

I didn’t think that looked good and said as much to Roman once Demetria had served us coffee.

“I agree,” Roman said. “Alexi is most likely the last person to have seen Delos alive. Add to that the fact that you saw him shove the victim to the ground moments before he was shot, and that elevates your cousin to the prime suspect.”

My stomach twisted and I set down my coffee without tasting it. “He didn’t have a gun.”

“Not that you saw. But he was carrying a backpack.”

I frowned at him. “You sound like you’re building a case against him.”

“I’m just trying to think the way a policeman would.”

I glanced over at Alexi. The table was far enough away that it was impossible to overhear anything. The inspector seemed to be doing most of the talking.

“Ionescu’s a smart man,” Roman continued. “He has to know that Miranda recognized the description you gave of the younger man on the beach. He probably suspects that she recognized the description of Delos also. Policemen get annoyed when they’re lied to. He’s not going to be happy with us, either.”

“What do you mean?”

“I imagine you were right on the money and he Googled Kit Angelis the moment he got back to his office. Your brother and I don’t look anything alike.”

“I told you to tell him the truth.”

“You could have ratted me out.”

But I hadn’t. Instead I’d backed up his lie. “Do you think he’ll arrest us?”

Roman reached across the table and gave my hand a squeeze. “I hope not. I called Kit yesterday when Ionescu was questioning you and gave him a heads-up about what was going on here. I also called my father. I imagine the inspector knows exactly who I am by now.”

Just then the inspector joined us. “Mr. Oliver, Ms. Angelis.”

The jig was obviously up. The moment Ionescu sat down, Demetria placed his coffee in front of him. He sipped it, then met Roman’s eyes. “Why did you lie about who you were yesterday?”

“Mrs. Kostas didn’t have any rooms. She was going to put me up somewhere in the village. Since she’s related to Philly, and I understand she’s had a very traditional Greek upbringing, I thought she might have concerns about my sharing a room with her. But I wasn’t about to let Philly stay here alone after someone took a shot at her.”

Ionescu turned to me. “You went along with the lie Mr. Oliver told Mrs. Kostas.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I met his eyes squarely. “Because I wanted Roman to stay with me.”

“I see.” He sipped his coffee, then asked, “Is the young man seated in front of my men the same person you saw arguing with the man in the wide-brimmed hat on the beach?”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t know it was your cousin Alexi?”

“I’d never met him before. We still haven’t been formally introduced.”

Inspector Ionescu studied me for a moment as if he was weighing the truth of my explanation. I could feel heat staining my cheeks—I’d given him good reason to doubt my honesty.

“You’ve found out the identity of the dead man?” Roman interrupted.

Ionescu shifted his gaze to Roman. “Antony Delos. He was a guest here at the Villa Prospero for the past five days. His body was recovered by a fisherman early this morning about three miles down the coast. But I had already tracked his identity through his cell.”

“What have you found out about him?”

Ionescu paused to take another sip of coffee. “I know you are an astute businessman, Mr. Oliver. I also know you have powerful contacts here in Greece. This morning, I received several phone calls—one from a Detective Nik Angelis with the San Francisco Police Department, and another from Gianni Stassis. Both gave you glowing character references.”

“You know of Stassis?” Roman asked.

Ionescu shrugged. “We’re not quite so isolated here as you might think. He’s one of the richest men in Greece and he’s politically well connected. I dare say there are very few people in my country who would not recognize the name. I’d like to make a deal with you.”

“What kind of deal?”

“Normally, I don’t share information about an ongoing investigation. But in this instance, I’ll fill you in on what I know so far about Antony Delos on the understanding that you’ll share any information you can gather through Stassis and your other contacts.”

For a moment, Roman said nothing. Mentally, I urged him to make the deal. If indeed my cousin Alexi was a prime suspect, then we needed as much information as possible to help him.

“You believe that through Stassis I can gather information that you can’t?”

“What I believe is that you can access it more quickly.” He glanced at Alexi, then turned his attention back to Roman. “And because you have a family connection, I’m sure you can see the advantage of that.”

“You can’t believe that Alexi had something to do with Antony Delos’s murder,” I said.

Ionescu’s eyes, when they met mine, had the same flat expression that my brother Nik’s eyes always had when he was in cop mode. “What I believe doesn’t matter, Ms. Angelis. I have to go with the evidence.”

I swallowed hard when I realized that I’d supplied much of the evidence.

“Deal,” Roman said. “What have you found out about Antony Delos?”

“He used to work for Interpol, mostly on high-profile gem thefts. Five years ago, he went private. He was still doing the same work, but for insurance companies and even more frequently for the well-heeled victims of the thefts. I did a little checking. The last call placed on his cell was to Carlo Ferrante, an Italian billionaire whose villa in Tuscany was robbed of a fortune in jewels six days ago. Five days ago, Delos checked into the Villa Prospero. I don’t believe in coincidences, do you, Mr. Oliver?”

Something tightened in my stomach. Inspector Ionescu couldn’t suspect that Alexi or Miranda had something to do with the theft? I glanced over at my cousin again. He looked young and scared, hardly the picture of an international jewel thief.

Roman seemed equally unconvinced. “I remember reading about that jewel heist. The Wall Street Journal did an article on it complete with photos.”

Ionescu nodded. “I don’t know how detailed the article was, but the jewels have been in the Ferrante family for centuries, and they have an interesting history. Reputedly, they were part of a dowry when a Ferrante son married a French aristocrat in the fifteenth century. They’ve been passed down to the male heirs ever since. And this is the second time they’ve been stolen from Carlo Ferrante.”