Tate next to her. “Where’s my father?”
“Right to the point. No catching up?” His eyes swept over her body, making her face flush.
Tate grunted. “Get on with it.”
Bittman ignored Tate. “Your father is fine for the moment, housed at a location which you will never find on your own until we conclude a business transaction. I need you to locate something for me, and once you do, he will be returned to you in mint condition. Simple as that.”
Stephanie tried to read the feelings in his eyes, but failed. There was never any emotion to take note of, not in all the years she had known him. Only when he spoke of his own father did she see a spark. “What is it? This thing you need me to find?”
Bittman folded his arms and looked out the window, scrutinizing the view. “A violin.”
“A violin?” Tate snapped. “You’re loaded. Go buy your own.”
Bittman kept his eyes on Stephanie. “This particular instrument was my father’s. It was made in 1741. It is unique, virtually a living thing and it is worth, to put a crude price tag on it...”
“Eighteen million dollars,” Stephanie said with a groan. “It’s one of only a few made by an Italian craftsman named Guarneri del Gesu.”
“How do you know that?” Tate asked.
“Because it was reportedly destroyed in a fire at Bittman’s father’s shop.” Her stomach tightened. “I read about it.”
Bittman’s eyes flickered. “That information is incorrect. The Guarneri was not burned, and I have recently acquired proof that it has surfaced right here in California. Someone has finally shown their hand by approaching a music store owner for repairs.” His smile was terrifying. “I want my family’s violin back. The person who possesses it can identify the arsonist who burned down my father’s shop and killed my brother. I will be able to deliver the proper punishment, finally, after all these years.”
Stephanie shivered. “There are plenty of other investigators and treasure hunters out there.”
“I hired someone to gather information.” His tone hardened. “Until that someone decided to go after my Guarneri herself.”
Tate sucked in a breath. “My sister?”
Bittman glared. “Yes. It seems rotten apples are common on your family tree.”
“Why would she want your violin? What did you do to her?”
“Nothing at all. I suspect the eighteen million dollars was motive enough.”
Stephanie felt a sliver of fear for Maria. “Has she found it?”
“I am not certain. She took my research, a small matter as I have it electronically archived, of course. I’ll get it back, and she will pay.” The words had barely left Bittman’s lips when Tate was on him, hands wrapped around his throat.
“You’re not going to touch my sister,” Tate barked.
Stephanie pulled Tate away, using all her strength to pry at his arms, which felt like steel bands under her fingers. “Let him go. You’re not helping Maria.” She had to keep Bittman talking long enough to find out how to rescue her father and now, it seemed, Maria, before Bittman got to her.
Bittman stood, adjusting his clothing. “I want you to locate my violin and the person in possession of it before Maria does. She might scare him off, and that would make me very angry, which, I am told, is a frightening prospect.”
Tate’s breath came in short bursts, and Stephanie worried for a moment that he would try to throttle Bittman again. She spoke quickly. “You could hire an investigator, a professional.”
“But I want you, Stephanie. You have the Treasure Seekers’ resources behind you and now, since your father’s life hangs in the balance, you have the ultimate motivation to complete the mission for me.”
Tate moved closer, and she felt his hand come to rest on the small of her back. It was the only thing that kept her mind from spinning completely out of control. For a moment, she thought Bittman was going to touch her, and she wondered how she would stand it. Tate tensed next to her, hand curled into a fist.
Bittman leaned close. “It is time for Treasure Seekers to go after the ultimate prize. Find it, and we will have everything we desire.”
We? She pulled back slightly, her back pushed into Tate’s chest. His fingers pressed her waist.
I’m here. He’s not going to hurt you, the pressure seemed to say.
“And if I can’t find the violin?” she whispered.
Bittman laughed softly before he whispered, “‘I looked, and behold a pale horse...’” He gave her a smile that from anyone else would have been warm and filled with humor, but from him, held another meaning entirely. Icy trickles snaked up her spine in spite of Tate’s reassuring touch and the fact that he moved her away from Bittman, inserting his own body between them.
Without a backward glance, Bittman was gone.
The room felt as if it was filled with tainted air, poisoned with a rank chemical that remained there even after Bittman’s departure. She stumbled out of the room and back into the cheerful kitchen, which now brought no comfort.
Tate was speaking, but he had to repeat the question twice before it penetrated her haze of fear. “What’s the business about the horse, Steph?”
She forced out the words. “We went riding a few times, back before I realized... He owns a stable full of the most beautiful horses you could imagine. So many to choose from, but he only rode one, a big stallion, completely white. The horse wasn’t a good trail rider, too wild and headstrong. I asked him why he always chose that particular horse.” She raised her eyes to Tate’s. “He said he liked the imagery.”
“Imagery?”
She swallowed hard. “It’s from Revelation. ‘I looked and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him...was Death.’”
FOUR
Stephanie sat next to Luca on the flight to southern California. A few hours before, Victor’s fiancée, Brooke, had arrived from San Diego to stay with Victor, who was showing signs of improvement. Stephanie offered up another prayer of thanks.
Luca did not want to leave their brother any more than she did, which added to the concern written on his face. They’d both thrown some necessities in a bag and she’d arranged for a neighbor to feed Tootsie before they were off to the airport. Luca was not one to rush anything, which she suspected added to his stress.
At least Tate was not with them to add fuel to Luca’s ire. He’d stayed with her at her house, combing through the research that Bittman emailed just after he’d left, until Luca arrived sometime in the wee hours.
“Tate’s not with Treasure Seekers. It’s better that he stays out of our way,” Luca growled.
“He’s not going to. He thinks Bittman’s going to hurt Maria, or she’s going to do something dumb trying to get her hands on that violin. Either way he’s going to stick with it until he knows for sure. He’s meeting us at the airport in Bakersfield. From there we go to Devlin’s shop. The one who contacted Bittman about the Guarneri.”
Luca shook his head. “Tate will be a problem.”
She allowed herself a smile, in spite of her weariness. “Dollars to donuts that’s exactly what he’s saying about you.”
Luca did not return the smile. “Steph, he’s bad news. Guy’s a pill popper and a hothead.”
Stephanie looked away for a moment. “I think he’s clean now.”
“You think?” Luca took her hand. “He almost got you killed. Plus, if he hadn’t shut