Chapter 22

The conversation on the phone with my Aunt didn't go as planned. She hardly spoke a word of English but with the help of some rough translations by Will, I think we had established some sort of agreement that we were to meet--or that she had just invited us strangers to her birthday party. Either way, I realized that she didn't really know who I was.

I squinted my eyes at Loraine. "Nobody gets hurt." We needed to move carefully, but fast, especially if Plymouth wasn't far behind us.

The cars backed out, spinning on the gravel. If it wasn't that I couldn't read in the European metric system, I would have been positive that we were well over the speed limit as we raced down the narrow roads. Loraine gave her driver the address we had found on my relatives and he changed course. Charles was silent, his hands now cuffed tightly together. Will looked equally as tense. I could tell that in Loraine's presence he was a different man—angry, suppressive—the same man I saw repeatedly when I had first met him. Feeling the stress from both sides, I simply leaned my head on Charles' shoulder.

"He has Austin." I said silently. And God knows what he could be doing to him.For all I knew, he could have Gio too. Gio needed a hospital and rest. I kept praying those ambulances got there on time. Beneath the weight of my head, I could feel Charles shifting.

"Everyone will be okay." He said. I looked out the window and thought I saw Austin's smiling face among a crowd of young men standing idly on the side of the road. Same build, same carefree blue eyes. Part of me realized I had failed him by hiding the truth. I was worried about hurting him, but ended up hurting him worse by saying nothing.

The whole landscape changed as we progressed forward, almost like it had when we went to Austin's sister's wedding, in the vineyard. There was a long open stretch of rock, and I could tell we were on a plateau, unlike the nearby beaches and city. A row of tall cylinder-like trees led us down a tan gravel road to a house. It was a very big, square Italian-build with a small fountain in front.

In the front seat, I noticed the man next to Loraine loading a gun.

"What are you doing?" I asked, alarmed.

"Don't worry, just an extra precaution in case your leeches come snooping around." I half-wondered if she even knew who Plymouth was.

I cautiously stepped out of the SUV with Will's help. His sleeve showed blood-stains. A pang of fear hit me, fear of the unknown that lay ahead.

"We're almost there." Will's darkening brown eyes looked down at me as he whispered low. I could tell he was reaching his physical limit. He was weak and injured. I took his hand in mine, hoping that somehow I could pass some of my rising adrenaline to him.

"It's almost over." I whispered. To think all of this being chased around by gang members and ex-secret service would end over a simple caché of diamonds—what a crazy world we lived in.

I reached in my pocket for the safe code I had found hidden away in Charles Dickens, and stepped forward toward the house. I knocked on the door hard with solid white knuckles, nervously eyeing the entourage of people behind me. When the door opened, two small dogs came rushing out, barking menacingly at the group. I was face to face with an older dark-haired woman. She squinted at me, then her eyes opened, looking confused yet somehow overjoyed.

"Karise?" It took me a second to realize she must have thought I was my mother, her sister.

"Karise!" She repeated. And with open arms she embraced me. I quickly backed away, startled by the show of affection.

"Ah hi. I—I'm not Karise, I'm Eva." Her eyebrows knit together and suddenly I realized she wouldn't have known me by that name.

"Nefeli, not Eva, Karise's daughter."

Her hand went to her mouth. "Nefeli." She started ranting on in Greek and I realized I was going to need a translator. Will tried his best to understand what she was saying. When the woman noticed Loraine and her entourage behind me, her face blanched white.

"Come in?" She said with a heavy accent. I nodded and thanked her profusely, even though I realized that would also mean Loraine coming in. One look at the place inside and I realized whatever she said on the phone earlier wasn't about being invited to a party. The interior was dark and not well kept. It seemed that she was the only one living there and after a while I realized that was the truth. Will did his best with the translations. Apparently she was very glad to see me and was wondering if she would ever get the chance to meet her niece after my Father visited. He had relayed the news that both him and I were in grave danger.

"That's an understatement." I replied sarcastically. Before Will said anything, I told him not to translate that, she probably wouldn't have understood anyway.

"She says you look just like your Mother." A light flashed across Will's eyes as he spoke. I smiled for the first time in ages. I wanted to ask if she had a picture, but I wisely bit my tongue. There would hopefully be time for that another day.

The group surveyed the overly large living room. Even though she invited us to sit down, most of us, including Loraine and I, kindly declined.

"Could you please ask her about the safe?" I asked Will reluctantly. He considered his words, then spoke. The woman looked nervously at Loraine, probably wondering if it was okay to say whatever she had to say in front of her. I was glad Loraine left most of her group outside.

"Tell her they are with us." It killed me to say it and I could almost feel Loraine's sadistic smile behind me. After a beat, the woman spoke, then got up and left the room. We watched her leave in bewilderment.

"She's going to the attic." Will spoke, wincing a little.

"Why?" I asked

"Well... follow her!" Loraine snapped. I did as instructed, but I overheard her telling one of her men to go with me. I would have much rather had Will following close behind. Together we followed my Aunt silently up a narrow staircase, too narrow for my liking. I was starting to feel claustrophobic, my breathing becoming labored and shallow. At the top of the stairs was an old wooden door. None of the interior of this house matched the exterior, which made me wonder how it had fallen out of disproportion. The Woman was grave and quiet as she pulled a key out of her pocket. I looked back at the man Loraine had instructed to follow me, a stocky burley older man who's name I had heard Loraine mention as "Sal." I could tell he was becoming increasingly sweaty and nervous, possibly also struggling from the enclosed space.

My Aunt, looked back at both of us as the door lock loosened and swung free. She opened the door and automatically I regretted coming up here. The attic or room or whatever it was had a pyramid ceiling sloping down. It looked like it would have been large if it wasn't for the looming mass of objects, from old tables and chairs to boxes from who knows what century.

Sal grunted with disbelief at the spectacle. My Aunt rushed over to one of the tables and opened a drawer.

"Do you have a flashlight?" I asked him.

"Here." He handed me a small one. I could feel my own pulse strengthen after looking at his blanching knuckles and face.

As I turned around he let out a sharp cry that caused me to back away quickly.

"What the hell was that?"

"A spider, a fucking spider-widow thing."

"Everything okay up there?" Loraine called. I called back, assuring everything was fine and that we just spotted a black widow. I didn't want to tell her it was her burly bodyguard Sal who screeched like a girl.

"Do you need to go back down?" I put a calming hand on his shoulder, noting how he was turning pale and looking sick to his stomach.

"I'll be fine." He gasped. "Let's just get that thing and get out of here." I pinned the flashlight around us, checking for anymore spiders, and taking in the history around me. To think of all the treasures that could be hidden in this attic took me back to my younger years, when Mr. and Mrs. McDowell had caught me going through their old photos and relics in the attic. I always had a love of artifacts and history, and somehow that memory was settling my nerves now.

"What's taking her so long?" Sal asked impatiently.

"Ma'am?" I asked. Her back was to me with her head staring down. Slowly, she turned around, a small black metal box in her hands. I rushed forward and fumbled with the unlocked latch, deciding that I wanted to be the one who saw what was inside first. No Loraine, no Plymouth, just me and my Father's history. The lock released and with trembling fingers I lifted the lid open in my Aunt's arms. All I could see were hundreds of small lights flashing up at me; a big pocket of beautiful, sparkling diamonds.