“Walk away,” he said.
Her eyes flicked past him to the fountain, the hedges, the people who didn’t look like tourists anymore. Then she smiled again.
And didn’t move.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Kathleen froze.
Every instinct she had screamed at her to tell the woman to run. To get as far away as possible. No one who wandered into the middle of this mess came out with good odds.
“I think you need to hand that over now,” the woman said.
Enzo remained silent.
Kathleen studied the woman more closely. It was definitely the woman who’d knocked her bag at the airport. She was, in a word, gorgeous. Kathleen had no idea how she’d gone unnoticed at the wedding; then again, she had noticed her, hadn’t she? Maybe that was the trick. Beautiful enough to register, forgettable enough to fade.
She’d done a damn good job of fitting in.
The woman frowned. “Seriously. You need to give that to me if you know what’s good for you.”
Enzo smirked. “I rarely do what’s good for me, but I’m always open to suggestions.”
The woman’s mouth tightened.
Kathleen pegged her as early thirties. The ponytail was a wig, she was sure of it now that she was closer. The blue eyes,though, were real. Sharp. Intelligent. The woman was about Kathleen’s height, slimmer, all angles and restraint. No soft curves yet. There was something familiar about her, too, not personal familiarity, just the unsettling sense that she belonged in a mental file Kathleen couldn’t quite access.
She was holding it together, but barely. Confidence wrapped tight around fraying edges. She was outnumbered, and she knew it.
“You were supposed to bring the map to Mr. Vitale,” the woman said. “He’s not pleased. Give me the treasure, and I’ll try to smooth things over.”
“I very much doubt that,” Enzo said mildly. “I’m quite sure you’d either take off with it yourself or hand it to Carlotta.”
The name landed.
The woman startled, just a fraction, but enough. She recovered quickly, but the damage was done. Enzo had hit something raw.
“Why don’t we go somewhere less public,” Kathleen said tightly, “and talk this through?”
“I think not,” the woman said and shifted her bag just enough for Enzo to see the gun. “Now give me the treasure.”
“No,” Enzo said simply.
“I will shoot you.”
“Maybe,” Enzo replied. “But then my friend here will shoot you back, and neither of us gets out of this alive.”
“Do as she says,” a voice behind them said.
Kathleen turned.
The man standing there was the spitting image of Gage.
“Jesus Christ,” Logan muttered. He’d turned too, staring openly now. The man had a gun raised and even sounded like Gage.
“She’s your sister,” Kathleen blurted.
The man’s gaze snapped to her, then to the woman. The truth flashed across his face before he could hide it.
