Page 102 of The Medici Return

“As you wish. But please know that all of those inquiries will end up with me.”

“Then give me some answers. One of my brothers has been shot. He’s bleeding.”

Ascolani shrugged. “I am sorry for that. The document that was stolen. Was it protected?”

The prior nodded. “Inside a stiff plastic sleeve.”

“How did all these people gain access?” Stefano asked.

“Apparently, one of the lay brothers is close friends with Signora Baines here.”

“Excuse me.”

And Ascolani stepped away, toward the far side of the church, focused again on his phone.

THOMAS STOOD FROM THE ROADWAY.

He’d taken out the car and sent it over the side. Its headlights had reached him, so the occupants could be aware of his shots. His phone vibrated and he read the text message that just arrived.

Retrieve a document that was inside that car. Protected by a plastic sleeve. Advise if it was destroyed or you have it.

He hustled to where the car had been last seen. A total cloaking darkness dominated. He heard hissing from below. He propped the rifle against a tree and used the light from his phone to make his way down the embankment. The car had flipped over. Battered from the fall, it was now lying at an angle against the trunk of a thick cypress.

Vapor seeped upward.

No movement from inside the vehicle and no sign of the occupants outside the car. He made his way closer and caught the thick waft of gasoline. He found Malone and Cardinal Richter inside the car, both not moving. Dead? Didn’t really matter. He raked the light from his phone across the destroyed interior. Both men were still strapped into their seats. Richter’s right arm was bent at a sharp angle, a deep gash in the forehead, blood caked to his hair. He aimed the light across the interior and caught a reflection.

A plastic sleeve.

Lying at Richter’s feet.

That had to be it.

He rounded the car’s smashed front end and climbed up where he could reach down, past the cardinal, and retrieve the sleeve.

The gasoline odor seemed to be escalating.

He doubted, though, it would catch fire.

Without some help.

STEFANO’S PATIENCE WAS REACHING ITS LIMIT BUT HE REALIZED HEwas not in charge. Far from it. He was apparently only along for the ride.

“Signora Baines,” the prior said. “You are a trespasser.”

“I was invited here.”

“The lay brother will be severely disciplined for extending that invitation. It is contrary to our rule. You both conspired to steal a document from our protection. I could have you arrested, but I will be satisfied with you leaving here and never returning.”

“I will also take my donations and generosity with me.”

The prior shrugged. “Do that. We will survive. As we have for centuries. Without you.”

The woman clearly did not appreciate the rebuke. “Might I remind you that I own all of the lands surrounding this monastery. Lands you currently farm.”

“We will learn to live without them. And by the way, you are not the only person who is generous to this order.”

Baines turned and motioned.

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