The Devil's Triangle (A Brit in the FBI 4)

Mike said, “This is Kitsune we’re meeting. Bad guys are after her, they could be in a gondola coming right at us. They could be waiting for us on the dock. Nope, I think all of us should be armed. Now.”

“You’re right.” Nicholas stepped from the prow of the boat, sat on the interior bench, and followed suit. He put his Glock into its stiff leather holster and affixed it to his belt, then shrugged back into his soft leather jacket. Everyone followed suit, except Adam, who had no training. Nicholas knew he’d have to address that sooner rather than later. He couldn’t have Adam helpless.

Louisa joined Mike at the prow. “I’ve always loved the smell of Venice. It’s the smell of the sea overlaid with gasoline from the boats’ engines.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“My dad’s a diplomat. We traveled everywhere.” She pointed. “There’s our hotel coming up, the Savoia and Jolanda. We never stayed there, Mom always preferred the Danieli. So many tourists wandering around, having fun, admiring everything. It’s hard to think there could be real danger here.”

The taxi was slowing, approaching the shallower lane that would take them to the dock near their hotel.

Mike said, “Okay, everybody, stick together. We don’t know what’s to come today, and I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

Adam elbowed her in the ribs. “Gosh, Mom, do you want us to have a buddy, too?”

She punched his arm. “I’m serious.”

Adam said, “We’re on alert, don’t worry.”

“I am worried. You’re green, Adam, sort of like an avocado.”

Louisa laughed. “He’ll be fine once he’s on land, right, Adam?”

“I like avocadoes,” Adam said, and swallowed.

Nicholas scanned the San Zaccaria dock. “I wish we weren’t all arriving at once. Should have thought of that,” he said to Mike, who stood at his shoulder.

“Too late now. Besides, if someone’s watching, we’d have been nailed coming in anyway, even two at a time.”

Nicholas said, louder, so they could all hear, “Here we are.”

The boat’s captain, doubtless handpicked by Kitsune because he’d keep his mouth shut, fiddled with the mooring ropes. When Mike stepped onto the dock, she saw him speaking into a walkie-talkie. Nicholas said, “I do hope he’s talking to Kitsune, telling her we’re here. Everyone, stay alert. We have no idea what’s going to happen.”

The hotel was dark stucco, old, warm and inviting. Inside, it was as advertised—wood and glass and comfortable. A blonde behind the counter greeted them, her eyes never leaving Nicholas’s face. He leaned close and spoke to her in rapid-fire Italian.

The res

t of them stood back, scanning the lobby. Mike saw a group of people start to come in, then pull up short, turn around, and leave. Some things were always the same. No matter if they were on the moon, they still looked like cops.

Nicholas began passing out keys and instructions.

“Lia, set up our comms, I want to know everything’s working. Adam, get online, build a router repeater to get a decent signal, and scramble it six ways to Sunday. There are far too many open Wi-Fis in the area. Louisa, until there’s forensics, you’ll keep your eyes on Kitsune—when we find her—and on us.” He paused, frowned, “Our receptionist put Mike on the third floor, everyone else is on the second. Drop your things and come to my room in fifteen. The receptionist is having coffee sent up. We’ll down some caffeine, and get this over with.”

Everyone straggled toward the bank of elevators. Mike and Nicholas rode up together. “I hope you don’t mind separate rooms.”

“No, this isn’t fun time, it’s work,” she said. “The jet lag, it’s really getting to me. I want to wash my face and fall on the bed. You said fifteen minutes, plenty of time.”

He cupped her chin, gave her a quick kiss. “It is indeed. I could help you unpack your go-bag. It looks pretty heavy to me.”

She kissed him back, patted his face. “It’s obvious you weren’t thinking ahead. You’re into details, Nicholas, and fifteen minutes isn’t enough time for you.”

He cursed under his breath. She was right. He particularly loved all her details. Mike read him perfectly, laughed. “I’ll drop my bag and come down to your room before we meet up with the others, and head out to meet Kitsune.” She waggled her fingers at him as the doors slid closed.

She went up another floor and opened the door to her room. Dark brown walls, a minuscule balcony that faced the hotel next door, and a tiny bathroom she prayed had some hot water. “Well, thank you, Ms. Blonde Receptionist, for my fine accommodation and the lovely view of Venice.”

She dropped her bag, washed her face, and put her hair back in a ponytail. She sat on the bed. Hard as a rock. So much for a nap. Mike cleaned off her glasses, grabbed her briefcase, and took the stairs down to Nicholas’s room.

He opened the door with a grin. She stepped in, and nearly fainted. It was a huge suite, with two balconies opening onto the lagoon, gorgeous gray marble walls with white trim, sheer white curtains moving lazily in the breeze. The two bedrooms with their own en suite bath were almost bigger than her apartment in New York.