Across the gravel, Alex shifted subtly, changing her stance, her posture sharpening ever so slightly. Others would be doing the same, invisible to anyone not trained to notice.
Matteo lifted his head just then, his gaze skimming the fountain and landing on Enzo. For a split second, recognition flashed between them. Matteo looked away.
That was all Enzo needed. “Yeah,” Enzo said under his breath. “He knows I see him.”
Kathleen’s fingers tightened briefly around Enzo’s sleeve. “He won’t do anything here, will he?”
“Not openly,” Enzo said. “Too many witnesses.”
“But he’ll stay close,” Logan added. “Report everything.”
Enzo nodded. The fountain gushed beside them, water crashing down the steps in endless motion. The obelisk dominated the space, beautiful, loud, impossible to ignore. Mist clung to his skin, dampening his clothes, turning the air cool and sharp in his lungs.
Alex still had her eye on the woman.
Enzo didn’t need confirmation. He could feel it in the way the team subtly shifted, tiny changes in spacing, attention tightening like a drawn wire. As Enzo swept a deceptively casual glance around the grove, he watched Mitch move into a spot along the gravel ring, his posture loose, his focus locked on Matteo.
Good.
Kathleen was not wrong about the Callahans. They were pros at this, and they worked like a well-oiled machine. He was impressed, and although he hated to admit it, he was damn glad they were here.
Matteo lingered near the hedge, pretending to be just another passerby, but Enzo could feel him there like a pressure point. The betrayal burned. The train. Nice. Paris. None of it had been coincidental.
Enzo pulled the map from his jacket, keeping it low, shielded by his body. The cloth was creased and worn now, the markings deceptively simple with lines and symbols, and of course, the X.
His gaze lifted from the map to the fountain, but how the hell was he supposed to get to the treasure without calling a whole hell of a lot of attention to himself? He supposed they could try and wait until dark and do it then, but the chances of them surviving here that long without some kind of confrontation were nil.
No. It had to be now.
He studied the raised basin and the stepped terraces. The relentless surge of water, spilling in every direction, was going to make this very difficult. Whatever was hidden here wasn’t meant to be obvious. It wasn’t meant to be found by accident. He had no idea what the treasure actually was. But it couldn’t be large. Anything bulky would have been discovered within days of Wilson hiding it. Anything delicate would have disintegrated. Whatever they were looking for had to be able to survive water, time, and neglect.
Small, then. Durable. Concealable. Hidden in plain sight.
Enzo folded the map and tucked it away, his jaw tightening.
“This is it,” he said quietly.
“What are you thinking?” Kathleen’s voice came back steady, her position close to his side the only comfortable thing in his world right now. Even the soles of his feet itched with the present danger.
“That it’s not where you want it to be,” he said. “It’s where no one would ever bother to look twice.” He gestured with his chin toward the cascading water.
“It’s in the fountain?” Kathleen’s voice went up an octave.
“Yeah,” he said as he tried to figure out the best approach.
“He’s right,” Logan agreed. “It has to be in there. No one would stumble across it if it’s in the water.”
“Great,” Kathleen quipped. “Who’s going to notice a man going into the fountain? I’m sure it happens every day.”
Logan frowned. “She’s right. You won’t have long before security shows up.”
Enzo grinned. “You forget. This is France. If we were inside and had to search a room in the palace, they’d be on me like a shot, but it’s a warm day, and we’re not in the most visited space. We have time. I’ll have time,” he amended. He made it sound easy. He only hoped he was right.
“Wish me luck,” he said, and then he stepped over the low stone edge and into the fountain.
Cold bit instantly, water soaking his jeans, his boots slipping slightly on the slick stone beneath. The burble of the water grew louder here, vibrating through his chest. He moved carefully, testing his footing, eyes scanning as water spilled down the steps in shimmering sheets. The X on the map denoted the south set of stairs, so he started there. He scanned the staircase in front of him, but it was too hard to see through the water. The sunlightand running liquid cast odd shadows. There was no way to be sure of what he was seeing without touching it.
He paused. Wilson would have had to put the treasure in here, so it was unlikely it was in the middle of the staircase. He moved to the right side and started feeling the edge where the steps met the wall.
