Kathleen blinked. She’d been so interested in the garden that she hadn’t really been watching the people. They’d passed quite a few tourists when they’d started, but the crowds had thinned out. She was surprised. She’d thought that it would be much busier than it was.
“It’s a quieter area that we’re heading to. Not as many tourists,” Enzo said as if he’d read her mind.
Kathleen tried to focus on the people. She scanned the faces around them. Nothing jumped out at her until a woman emerged from a pathway on her left.
“She’s familiar,” Kathleen murmured and then squinted in the morning sunlight. The woman disappeared into a small group of what looked like students.
“She’s with that group.” Kathleen indicated with her chin so she didn’t draw attention to the fact that she was pointing out the woman.
“Okay,” Logan said. Then he mumbled something else.
Kathleen was about to ask him to repeat it and realized he was speaking into his earbud.
They veered off the main path and continued at a moderately slow pace, trying to blend in with the rest of the tourists.
“So do we have anything else? Any more news?” she asked.
Logan shook his head. “No. We do know that Vitale is in Mallorca. We think Bianca and Rocco are there with him.”
“Good,” Enzo growled. “We’ll deal with them later. Let’s just take this one step at a time.”
Kathleen glanced down the path. Was that the woman again? Had she switched paths? She looked again. “That’s her,” she said.
“She probably came across. There are a few spots where you can do that.” Logan had confirmed her thought.
Again, Logan spoke into his earpiece, and they kept going.
Kathleen’s anxiety grew more insistent the closer they got to their destination. The pathway narrowed as they approached the grove, the tall hedges rising higher and tighter around them until the world felt reduced to green walls and shadow. Gravel crunched softly beneath their feet; every sound suddenly seemed too loud in the enclosed space.
Kathleen walked between Enzo and Logan; Logan on her left, Enzo just ahead and slightly to her right. Both men had gone quiet. Not relaxed quiet…alert quiet. The kind that prickled along her skin.
The air felt different here. Still. Heavy. Like the gardens themselves were holding their breath.
Ahead, the path stretched straight and deliberate, drawing the eye toward the open circle at the center. Kathleen could justglimpse the obelisk, surprised it was not stone but water. An immense plume surged skyward above the top of the hedges, surrounded by water that tumbled over stairs leading up to it. This was it.
Her stomach tightened as the truth of it settled in. The map hadn’t prepared her for how exposed this felt. The path led them straight toward the center, with nowhere to duck aside. Nowhere to disappear once they stepped fully into the open. Every instinct she had screamed that this was the moment things went wrong. She slowed without realizing it, just half a step.
Enzo noticed immediately. His hand brushed her back, light and steady, a silent reassurance. She drew in a breath and forced herself forward.
The path opened onto the Bosquet de l’Obélisque. At its heart was the fountain, an elevated basin with a broad rectangular pool where dozens of jets surged upward at once, merging into a single, towering column of water that created rainbows in the morning sun.
Four wide staircases climbed toward it, one on each side, built directly into the fountain itself. Water spilled over them in controlled sheets, cascading from step to step in glittering rivulets before crashing into the lower pool. The constant rush and tumble of it filled the grove completely. In any other place, the sound might have been soothing.
Here, it scraped against her nerves, setting her teeth on edge and tightening the knot of anxiety in her chest. The volume was loud enough to mask the sound of anyone approaching.
A narrow ring of manicured grass surrounded the fountain, too perfect to feel real. Beyond that lay a broad circle of pale gravel, crunching softly underfoot. From there, pathways radiated outward, vanishing almost immediately into the towering hedges that enclosed the grove.
The hedges were dense and deliberate, trimmed into towering green walls that fractured sightlines and swallowed sound. A maze disguised as symmetry. Too many places to enter.
Too many places to hide.
The hairs on the back of Kathleen’s neck lifted as they moved inexorably forward. A distinct, unsettling certainty overshadowed everything else. Once they stepped fully into the circle, there would be no way to tell who was watching, or from where. Kathleen’s pulse kicked harder.
That was when she saw her. A woman stood near the far edge of the circle, partially obscured by a hedge, pretending to study the landscaping like an idle tourist. She was slim, dark-haired, dressed simply in tailored black pants and a white blouse that looked deliberately unremarkable.
But Kathleen knew her. The recognition hit, sharp and sudden. It was definitely her. Kathleen’s breath caught. The woman had been at the wedding. Not as a guest, but as a server. One of the catering staff who had moved silently between tables, head down, efficient, forgettable by design. Kathleen remembered thinking at the time how striking she’d been up close, bright blue eyes, angular cheekbones, a faint scar near her jawline that disappeared when she smiled politely and stepped away.
Now the woman lifted her head. Their eyes met. And the woman looked away too quickly.
