She rested against the white stone wall beside the stairs, gasping for air, blood pulsing through her body. She stroked Aegis’s short coat, the dog already ready for more racing. Must be nice. Still, a painful euphoria filled her. Papa would be impressed. Maybe he was on deck, watching for her arrival at the top.
She straightened and looked down toward the lagoon. But the Aphrodite was no longer docked. Instead, its sleek lines were cutting through the water, headed out to sea. What the hell?
Her father had no plans to go anywhere, and he’d never leave her behind. She grabbed her phone. A private number had called twice, leaving no message. She hit the callback button, but it didn’t ring through. “Come on, boy.” Her legs felt like overcooked spaghetti as she stumbled down the stairs beside Aegis, pressing the call button again and again. Nothing. The pounding in her ears wasn’t from exertion now but, rather, alarm.
The trip back down the cliffside lasted an eternity. Her knees throbbed from the unforgiving cobblestone descent. She tried Papa’s cell, but it bounced straight to voice mail. Unheard of. Her father had his BlackBerry cemented to his hip—he’d never ignore a call, especially from her. Aegis led at a brisk pace, as if he could sense her urgency.
The stitch in her side intensified. The Aphrodite faded on the horizon, disappearing in a haze of clouds. She pressed 1 on her speed dial. Hakan Asker answered on the first ring.
“Let me guess: Christos wants more cigars for the party tonight.” He laughed. “My helicopter leaves in ten from Athens. I don’t have time to shop, but tell him I’ll help smoke the ones he has.”
“I’m having a humdinger of a day,” Thea said. Their code word for an emergency. She had to be careful, because she wasn’t on an encrypted satphone. Her breath rasped as she barreled down the final flight of steps.
“How can I help?” His voice lost all frivolity.
“The birthday boy’s playing shy—he’s heading west on the water, and I’m losing visual contact.”
“With his buddies on board?”
“Can’t imagine they’d let him run off alone.”
She exited the stairs, then sprinted along the wharf to where the yacht had been docked. She skidded to a halt. Piers was sprawled on his back, two holes in his chest, his eyes lifeless. Aegis ran to the bodyguard and licked his face. “Piers is . . . indisposed,” she told Hakan. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat but failed. The South African had been part of her life as long as she could remember.
Piers’s Glock still rested inside its holster underneath his windbreaker. She secured the weapon and scanned the area. No one around. The shooter had obviously surprised him—not an easy task. Although Piers had always treated her with warmth and kindness, he had the instincts of a killer. And her father’s security team, handpicked by Hakan Asker, had thoroughly searched the docks last night when they’d arrived.
“Any other friends in the vicinity?”
She checked left and right again. The old woman was long gone. Three empty boats were moored. An eerie silence engulfed the normally busy wharf, the only movement a ghostly breeze. Everyone was probably home celebrating Christmas with family members. She eyed her father’s Donzi. “No, but Aegis and I will follow the birthday boy until you arrive, make sure he doesn’t go off half-cocked before the party tonight.”
“Best take Piers along, despite his . . . indisposition. We don’t want the other guests to worry,” he said.
“Will do. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Don’t break up the party until I get there.”
“Got to run.”
She hit the end button and tucked her phone away. Her hands shook. She steadied them and forced herself to concentrate.
Hakan would mobilize the troops, and they’d keep everything under wraps. Her father would want it that way. Papa knew Maximillian Heros, a Hellenic Police inspector general, as they were on a few advisory boards together and had traveled in the same circles for years. If needed, Heros could help cut through any red tape.
A roll of blue tarp rested on the deck of a fishing trawler. Thea yanked the plastic sheet onto the wharf. Kneeling down beside Piers, she squeezed his callused hand. “I’ll miss you, my friend.” If only she could undo the last twenty minutes and bring him back.
She shifted Piers’s body onto the tarp, gently supporting his limbs, and eased him down into the Donzi. She placed his body on the rear bench seat, then used the bailing tin to wash his blood off the wharf.
Voices sounded in the distance. Probably fishermen headed out to catch their Christmas dinner. Aegis hopped into the boat beside her, sniffing Piers’s body. She searched underneath the dash, hoping Piers had tucked the keys in their usual spot. Her fingers connected with a flotation key fob.
She started the engine, untied the ropes, and headed west. She activated the GPS tracker on her phone to locate the Aphrodite—the yacht had a chip installed that allowed her father to keep track of its whereabouts when he wasn’t aboard. For once, she was grateful for his controlling nature.