“We met in Cambridge. Worked together. Now he’s a black-market antiques dealer who works for private collectors and always tries to beat me in getting to what shouldn’t be his in the first place.”
“And has he?” William asked.
Andrew’s teeth grazed his lower lip, his gaze remained pinned at the same spot. “Once.”
“So, he’s after Augustine’s treasure too?” I said.
“Yes.” Andrew glanced at me, his eyes full of apology. “I’m sorry I touched your wrist. I had hoped to hide the bracelet. Only a few people know about it.”
I brushed my thumb over the spot where Andrew’s heat penetrated my skin. “That’s fine. I knew that’s what you were doing.” Of course, I did. He had a wife; there wasn’t any reason for him to be so touchy. Unless he was a pig. And I had a strong feeling he wasn’t. “Why did you pretend to be married to me? You could have just said the truth.”
“I was going to, but you interrupted.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care what they think.” Really? What if someone told his petite, blond wife that they ran into Andrew, and he was with a tall, chestnut-haired, green-eyed wife? Sometimes, I truly didn’t understand men’s logic. “Not now I know Richard works for Nicolai Kolesnikov.”
“Kolesnikov?” My jaw hit the table. “TheNicolai Kolesnikov? The second wealthiest oligarch in Russia?”
Working for Salzburg Distributing had allowed me to learn a lot about wealthy people around the world, since they often hunted for the best or rarest bottles of wine. Some utilized professionals like myself, and some traveled personally to auctions and exhibitions. On several occasions, I’d sat at the same table with people whose weekly spending equaled my yearly salary.Side note:my salary was great. Like six figures great. Damn it! It was dumb of me to quit my job.
The server returned with coffee for William. We placed our order, and she collected menus and left.
“And how do you know Richard works with Kolesnikov?” I asked.
“Two weeks ago, Nicolai approached me, wanting my help to lead his team for a new exploration. I turned him down. He must have turned to Richard.”
“Why did you turn him down?” William asked.
“Artifacts belong in a museum and not on some asshole’s private yacht.”
“Very Indiana Jones-y,” William marveled.
“If that’s how you feel, why are you okay with the chest going to the private collector?” I asked.
“I have to focus on saving the irreplaceable ones.” Andrew rubbed his eyebrow. “Since Richard is already here, there’s a slight change in our plans. We need to leave immediately.” He stood up. “Have your breakfast and let’s meet”—he glanced at his watch—“in thirty minutes in the lobby.”
“Oh, yes.” I turned to William. “Something else you missed. I’m staying with Andrew for a few more days. You don’t have to. You can go back to Costa Rica.”
I hated for William to miss his luxurious vacation, and I was sure he’d have fun without me. He was an expert at finding someone special anywhere he went.
“And miss all the fun?” William pointed his glass of juice at me. “Besides, you need me for security. I go where you go.”
Warmth spread in my chest, pulling my lips into a smile. William was always protective of me. When he was about to start university, he considered not going on my account. He didn’t want to leave me alone with my mother and her constant revolving door of men. But after a serious talk, he changed his mind. At fifteen, I knew how to take care of myself. I was the only girl in our twenty-trailersdreamlandneighborhood, and the boys taught me many quick ways to bring someone down to the ground. When William finally moved out, there were only a few nights when I had to push my bed against my bedroom door as one extra layer of protection from my mother’shere-today-and-gone-tomorrowboyfriends.
“Andrew, you should eat breakfast,” I said. “A few minutes won’t change much.”
“You’d be surprised,” Andrew mumbled but returned to his seat.
“So.” William leaned back in his chair. “What did you find out last night about your pirate?”
“The next logical place to visit is at Iglesia San Antonio, the church where Jorge Pérez was a priest and is buried. For a ruthless pirate, when it came to his family and friends, Augustine was kind and loyal. As long as they were loyal to him, of course. Augustine’s right hand was his brother, Jorge, and some notes hint that Jorge temporarily stored Augustine’s treasure in his church. We don’t know when and for how long. It might be still there.”
I thought of every movie I’d seen where people had to break into the floors in old churches and crawl among skeletons. Shivers ran down my arms. I wouldn’t want to do that. It was creepy and disrespectful to the dead.
William’s phone dinged, and he fished it out of his pocket. Frowning, he pushed his chair out and got up. “It’s my clinic. I’ll need to call them back.”
“Don’t you think by now someone would have read their letters and notes, and found the treasure?” I said after William disappeared into the restaurant’s indoor dining room.
“It’s not that simple. Anything important, Augustine wrote in hieroglyphs. While you received the bracelet, I received an unfinished chart and a few other items which I might be able to use to partially decrypt any additional messages we come across.”
“Who are these Octavian Global people anyway? Have you met any of them?” I pressed my elbows on the table and cupped my chin, curiosity rising inside of me as if I was getting excited about this journey. I wasn’t, I told myself. I was simply making a conversation. Only the prospect of getting paid excited me.
