Page 99 of The San Marco Heist

“So why didn’t you?”

He pulled my hand to his heart, the frantic energy falling away as quickly as it’d come over him. “Your mother.”

“My mother?”

“She was constantly criticizing me. I couldn’t live up to her high expectations. After years of that, and I couldn’t stand the sight of her.”

“What about me?” What made me so easy to cast aside?

“I missed you every second we were apart.” He gave a rueful smile, full of regret. “Until I realized how much better I felt without your mother around.”

“You knew how hard her criticisms were on me, too. Why didn’t you ever tell me?” That was what people who were in love did. Who were planning on spending a life together did. They leaned on each other and talked about those things.

“Oh, Scarlett.” He pulled my hand to his lips, and every ounce of me wanted to shove it in his face. “That made it even worse. I knew if I told you the truth, it would crush you. You wouldn’t be able to handle how much it bothered me, on top of how much it bothered you. You would’ve left the company, which was too important to you. I didn’t want to do that to you. I loved you too much.”

We were supposed to grow old together. I’d thought I could trust him to be the beacon of honesty in the sea of deceit I lived in. But he was just like everyone else we brought in from the outside. Liars. Like Malcolm. “When did you decide to do it? The diamond job. Did the communications really fail or did you plan the whole thing from the beginning? Was going over the bridge part of your plan, too?”

“We can talk about those details later. Right now, I need you to see what we’re doing.”

“We who?” I didn’t care about what he was doing. I cared about my questions.

He hauled me by the hand, toward the digging sounds. “This island was originally two separate ones. The southern island, the one closer to the main islands, was called San Cristoforo. It included a monastery built in the fifteenth century, which was demolished when Napoleon declared the island would be used as the city’s cemetery.”

I pulled my hand out of his. The thought of him touching me made me sick to my stomach.

“But we have to go even farther back than that. In the tenth century, a church was built on the northern island dedicated to the Archangel St. Michael. But on the southern island? The one between the original San Michele and Venice, they buried the great treasure. Most people believe that St. Mark’s bones were the most important thing that came back from Alexandria. But they weren’t.”

“So kidnapping my brother…” Why was I even having this conversation? If he wasn’t providing me with the details about his faked death, why wasn’t I going back to the water bus pickup? “It was all about a treasure hunt? Like you think you’re Indiana Jones or something?”

“Yes.” He lifted his arms out to the sky, as if he were conversing with God directly. “But no. What we’ll uncover here does not belong in any museum.”

“You’re not making any sense. Why am I here for some treasure I know nothing about?”

“I have a new benefactor with more money than your mother and all of her backers. And fewer rules. And he has such a vision.” Noah ran a hand down the length of my arm. “He is going to change the world, and I’m going to be by his side. The first part is in the chest we’re digging up.”

“What’s that have to do with me?” There was no way I’d go back to him after what he put me through over the last two years. He wasn’t so delusional to think I actually would?

He stopped short again. “We were a great team, Scarlett. Once I had some distance and perspective, I realized the personal thing was a distraction. What I need is your brain. Your ability to see the angles and plan out a mission with exacting precision. I haven’t been able to find anyone who can match you in that.”

“So tonight’s a job interview?”

His eyes twinkled in the moonlight. “I want you to see what we’re about.”

Wefelt grander than him and his benefactor.

“Where have you been?” called a man’s voice.

A voice with a familiar, grating vocal fry.

It couldn’t be.

Noah placed a hand on my back and encouraged me to keep moving. “Have they found anything yet?”

Most of the graves in this area of the cemetery were stone slabs with crosses or headstones. Now and then a crypt loomed or a taller statue watched over the dead. At the next cross path, there were three crypts at the corners, and a statue at the fourth. The statue stood at least fifteen feet high, a maiden gazing at the heavens. Her base was made of a large stone, probably several, with stairs leading up to it like a dais.

Lanterns sat at each of its corners, illuminating the shattered stone at the center and a pile of dirt. Two sprays of dirt flew out of the hole, along with the glint of shovels.

Standing next to the hole, another man I never expected to see again. Thomas Maguire, greasy, slobbery, over-pomaded Thomas Maguire. A predatory smile snaked its way up his face.

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