now, to Victor—” She blinked back a sudden onslaught of tears. “It’s my fault, not Tate’s.”
He took her hand again, his expression softer. “No blame games here. I’m sorry. I get overprotective.”
“You don’t say.”
He squeezed her fingers. “Just don’t let Tate back into your life.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t.” Once was more than enough.
He relaxed. “Run me through it again, sis. Bittman’s father owned a music store and he inherited the Guarneri from a deceased uncle some twenty years ago. The violin has some special name, doesn’t it?”
“The Quinto Guarneri.” She nodded, glad to be in problem-solving mode. “It was given that name by the virtuoso violinist who once played it. There was a fire and the Quinto was presumed destroyed, though Bittman claimed someone set the fire. He further claims a second person was in the shop, a homeless man Hans Bittman allowed to stay there. Bittman believes while he was trying to get his father, Hans, out, the homeless man made off with the Guarneri before the store burned to the ground, but the cops could not substantiate any of it. Bittman’s older brother, Peter, was killed in the fire. He was mentally disabled; Bittman believes he hid under the bed until the smoke was too much for him. Hans Bittman went out of business and died shortly thereafter of a stroke.”
Luca’s eyes narrowed. “So Bittman thinks this violin that surfaced is the one stolen from his father and the guy who has it...”
She nodded. “Is the one who took it from the shop. He’s also the guy who saw the arsonist and...” She trailed off.
“And what?”
“And it’s the only time I ever saw him show emotion, the few moments when he spoke of his father or brother. Whatever happened that night changed him forever.” She chewed a fingernail. “Bittman went to a lot of trouble to involve us.”
Luca’s eyes roved her face. “I think he’s got ulterior motives. He wants you, Steph, that’s clear. He’s never gotten over the fact that you quit working for him.”
Her cheeks flamed. “He had to know I would, after I found out that he used me to break into that security system.” He’d directed her to steal a car, a Bugatti Veyron, supposedly to test out the antitheft system he’d installed. She’d stolen it all right, only it wasn’t Bittman’s car; it belonged to a man named Brown. The Gage family immediately rallied around Stephanie and appealed to Brown not to press charges. Brown was not swayed until suddenly, he dropped the charges with no explanation and sold the car to Bittman a week later. Stephanie had the suspicion Bittman had applied some excruciating pressure of his own. She also believed Bittman thought that by involving her in illegal dealings, he could blackmail her into staying with him. Blackmail was one of his specialties.
“You were more to him than an employee.”
“Well, it wasn’t mutual,” she snapped. It was fun at first, consulting for a man with a genius intellect, and then after Tate broke her heart, she desperately needed a distraction. Treasure Seekers was in its infancy with not enough projects to keep her busy, so she’d accepted Bittman’s job offer to be his security consultant and design software protection systems. In all her time with Bittman, never did she feel any stirrings of love for the man. Bittman did not seem capable of love even if she had been interested, any more than a mountain cares for the clouds that surround it.
The flow of memories was interrupted by Luca’s next question.
“Can you get a look at the police report?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. The local police department there was flooded about fifteen years back, so a lot of the records were destroyed.”
His eyebrow arched. “But you’re still working on it anyway, aren’t you?”
“What makes you think so?”
He laughed. “It’s like waving a steak in front of a hungry Doberman. You’ve got to know. It’s what makes you a great Treasure Seeker.”
She wanted to return the chuckle, but darker thoughts prevented her from doing so. If I don’t find this treasure, we might never see Dad again.
The plane descended through an oppressive gray sky.
* * *
She wasn’t surprised to find Tate waiting at the airport, sporting a neat T-shirt, a softly worn pair of Levi’s and a baseball cap. He nodded at her and ignored Luca as they headed to the rental car counter.
“How’s your brother?” Tate murmured into her ear, sending tingles dancing along her ribs.
“Stable for now. Did you fly?”
He shook his head. “Drove my friend’s truck.”
She started. “You didn’t leave my place until almost one. You must have been driving all night.”
He shrugged. “Don’t sleep much anyway. Called my friend Gilly. He’s gone to Maria’s place. Checking her computer.”
“Hacking into it?” Luca said.
Tate shot him a glance. “You worried about Maria’s feelings? You didn’t worry about those before.”
Luca jerked to a stop and faced Tate. “I didn’t touch your sister. Get that into your fat head.”
“You saying she’s a liar?” Both men topped six feet, and now they were nose to nose, anger simmering between them.
“Stop it,” she hissed. “We have to work together.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Tate said.
Luca snorted. “Don’t worry, none of us like it, so you’re in good company.”
Stephanie was relieved when Tate sat down to wait while Luca rented a car. She caught sight of a vending machine at the end of a quiet corner of the terminal. Stomach growling, she realized she could not recall the last time she’d eaten. Not wanting to take time to order from the café, she headed for the lone vending machine.
Away from the terminal noise, she shouldered her laptop strap and fished in her purse for loose bills, all the while wondering how she would keep Luca and Tate from killing each other long enough to find Maria or the violin. Her father would have told them both in that genteel way, “Cool heads, gentlemen.” Thinking about him brought a lump to her throat. Had he been injured in the crash? Or worse? She only had Bittman’s word that her father was unhurt. There had been bandages in the room where he had been held.
God, please, she whispered. Please keep him safe until I find him.
She felt off balance, useless, unable to locate her father and not there for her ailing brother. On impulse, she pulled out her phone and dialed, surprised when Brooke answered.
For a moment she could hardly imagine what to say to this sweet woman who loved her brother so deeply. “It’s Steph. I’m so sorry, Brooke.”
“It’s not your fault. Luca told me a little about what’s going on, and you have to know this didn’t happen because of you.”
The words were kind, but they did not change the truth. “How is he?”
Brooke sighed. “Still unconscious, but the doctors are easing off the sedatives so if all goes well he should be coming around.”
If all goes well...
“I’m glad you’re there with him.”
Brooke must have heard the unspoken feeling in her voice. “We both know you would be here, too, if you could. Just do what you have to do and stay safe. I’ll stay right here with Victor, I promise.”
Stephanie said goodbye and disconnected. What would happen when Victor did wake up? Would he remember the accident? Even more frightening, what if he was not himself anymore? What if he was damaged