The Moon That Night Read online

  They’d been alone together on a few vacations when she’d been quite little, but this was the longest span of time Riley had hung with Ally the teenager. He was impressed by her avid interest in history, something he wouldn’t have spent the time of day considering when he’d been her age, but she had a decisive, no-nonsense side that reminded him so much of himself at her age it was a bit unnerving.

  They enjoyed a dinner of fresh fish cooked in a lemon-and-caper sauce at a little sidewalk café in the Monastiraki street market not far from where he, Ally and Kate had shopped the other day. Then they were off to hit the Temple of Poseidon before sunset. They climbed to the top of the ruin and stood at the edge. The Aegean Sea was spread out below them like an endless swath of blue satin.

  “It’s pretty, isn’t it, Dad?” she said.

  “Gorgeous.”

  “Can we come back some day?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  Standing next to Ally talking about the view, he was forced to admit this day had been one of the best days of his life. The only thing missing had been Kate. Maybe there should be more days like this, more time with Ally. Although he felt too young to retire from the military, he’d known countless others who’d done just that. Not a one had ever regretted his decision. Maybe it was time for his life to take an about-face.

  “Excuse me,” a young woman standing next to Riley said. “Would you take our picture?” She was with a young man.

  “Sure.” While Ally stood by, Riley took the woman’s digital camera, framed the couple and snapped off a couple photos. Both were wearing wedding rings and looked happy and relaxed. As he handed back the camera, he asked, “On your honeymoon?”

  “Yes.” They looked at each other and smiled simultaneously. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” The couple wandered away.

  Ally was watching him as he turned back toward her. “Did you know Kate likes you?”

  Riley chuckled. “She doesn’t like like me.”

  “Yes. She does.”

  “She told you this?”

  “I know she does.”

  “And how do you know?”

  “Trust me. I know.”

  “You’re telling me this because…”

  “Oh, come on, Dad. Don’t be so obtuse.”

  “Obtuse?” Smiling, he shook his head. “Okay, I won’t.”

  “Do you like her?”

  “I respect her. She’s a good person.” And yes, he realized, he did like Kate. “But there’s no room in my life for a woman, Ally. You know that.”

  “Things change, Dad. You’ve changed. Maybe there’s more room than you think.”

  BY THE TIME Riley and Ally made their way back to the Bebel home, it was still early evening, but Ally was exhausted. She did, however, manage to fill Angelo and Nadi in on all the excitement of the afternoon, before asking, “Where’s Kate?”

  “She came upstairs for dinner and a break here and there,” Angelo explained. “But the rest of the time she’s been downstairs working.”

  “Can I go see her, Dad?”

  “Sure. Let’s see what she’s up to.”

  After Riley and Ally wished the Bebels a good night, they went downstairs to see Kate. At the doorway, he held Ally back to make sure they wouldn’t be interrupting anything critical. For a moment he watched Kate work on the clay statue. So intent on her process, she had no clue they’d come into the room, no clue he was as mesmerized by her as she was by her work.

  Sitting on a tall metal stool at the counter, she held a wooden tool in her hand and was scraping away at the clay. Her lips puckered as she gently blew at the filings, but then she picked up a brush and softly flicked at something at the front midsection of the figure.

  So serious and focused. So beautiful.

  “Sit like that much longer,” he said, “and you may not be able to unbend.”

  She glanced up and smiled at them. “You’re back! Did you two have a good afternoon?”

  “The best!” Ally said, smiling. She raced into the room, quickly listing off all the things they’d seen and done.

  Kate asked a bunch of questions and brought in her own experiences with each of the sites they’d visited.

  “I wish you could’ve come with us,” Ally said, yawning.

  “Some other time, maybe.”

  Not likely.

  “How did it go here for you?” he asked.

  “Good.”

  “When will you finish?”

  “Tomorrow morning. First thing.”

  “You’re ahead of schedule.”

  “This clay is extremely easy to work with, so barring anything catastrophic, like something cracking as it dries, I’ll only need an hour or two to finish it in the morning.”

  “So then we’ll be leaving for Russia?” Ally asked.

  He did not want to get into this tonight. “Next stop Moscow,” he said, avoiding the fact that Kate and Ally wouldn’t be coming with him. “Ally, I think you should head to bed.” It would be best for him to go with Ally, but he needed to talk to Kate.

  “I know. I’m tired. Night, Kate.” She hugged Kate around the middle.

  “Good night, Ally,” Kate whispered.

  “Night, Dad,” she murmured. “I had a great day.”

  “Me, too.” He brushed her long hair back from her face. “I’ll be up in a little while to check on you.”

  “Okay.” Her feet dragging, she left the room.

  Riley listened to her footsteps as she went upstairs, down the corridor and into her bedroom before he turned back to Kate. He’d missed her today. The realization settled inside him.

  “I’m glad you two spent some time together.”

  “Me, too.” Not quite ready to address the fact of him heading to Moscow alone, he said, “So you’ll really be finished with that in the morning?”

  “Yep. Did you talk to March today?”

  “This morning. I told him you were in the shower and he let talking to you pass.”

  “Because he already knew I was here.”

  “Exactly.” He stepped closer for a better look at the progress she’d made with her statue that day. Chaos, a male god, stood on a small circular base. A rough snakelike dragon coiled at his feet. Though he held a sword above his head in his right hand, he was naked. As was typical of most Greek statues he’d ever seen, this figure’s chest was smooth, broad and muscular. The hair on his head was short and curly.

  “For a god of nothing and everything, a god who supposedly had no physical form, Chaos looks awfully human.”

  “He does, doesn’t he?”

  “Why is that?”

  “It was part of the artist’s job. To make the gods accessible to the masses.”

  “Are you saying this artist mass-produced these statues?”

  “That’s the theory. This type of statue was used as an offering by common people to the gods, so they were quite ordinary and inexpensive. It’s likely why so many of this artist’s figures survived.”

  “Then why are they so special?”

  “Well, because while archaeologists have found many ancient Greek figurines through the years similar to these, these are different from the rest in one important respect. Most artists of the time didn’t sign their work. This one did, in a sense. He placed a fully bloomed rosebud somewhere in each of his designs. Here on Chaos—” she pointed to the base of the statue she was working on “—the rose is on the dragon at his feet.”

  “So this artist was either a visionary or quite conceited.”

  She chuckled. “I’m going with visionary.”

  He glanced at the pictures she was working from. “You do amazing work.”

  “I needed to take a break from my own studio work, but I think I’m ready to go back. Do my own thing,” she said, reaching down with a small tool to put the final touches on Chaos’s privates.

  “Did all gods have such small penises?” he asked.

  She smiled even before glancing over a
t him. “I believe they did.”

  “So much for being a god,” he muttered. “Or for that matter a goddess.”

  “There were other advantages.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, if you believe mythology, from Hesiod’s perspective anyway, Chaos was responsible for all of creation. That’s pretty awesome power.”

  “From nothing came everything?”

  “Something like that. Gaia was the first to come from Chaos.”

  “Mother earth,” Riley whispered.

  “She created land, mountains and hills.”

  “I suppose the heavens were next.”

  “In some stories, yes, Uranus came next. In others it was Tartarus, creator of the underworld. Still others claim that Eros, the god of love, was second.”

  “That’s strange.”

  “That from Chaos came love?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think it’s very fitting, in a way.”

  “That’s because you’ve never been in love.”

  “No. But I imagine it to feel like a tempest. At once awful and wonderful. If that isn’t chaos, I don’t know what is.”

  It wasn’t the way he’d felt toward Amy. Loving Amy had been effortless. There’d been nothing contradictory about his feelings for her. But when he looked into Kate’s eyes, he knew she was right. Loving Kate would be at the same time the most awful and wonderful thing he could ever imagine.

  It was exactly how he’d felt kissing her. The physical sensation of his lips on hers had been wonderful, all right. So amazing, he’d wanted more. More heat, more skin, deeper penetration. And yet more was wrong. For her. For him.

  Chaos.

  So if it was so bad for them both, why did he want her so desperately? “Must be why mythology is rife with tragedy.”

  “And joy and passion. Wonder and love. Discovery and growth.”

  “And incest and murder.” He grinned. “Jealousy and trickery.”

  Silently, her gaze locked on his face, she spun around on her swivel stool, putting her eye level with his chest and only inches from him. “You have the most amazing smile and yet you so infrequently bother.”

  He frowned. There was no point in egging her on.

  Suddenly she reached up and rested both of her hands on his chest. Then, as if he were rough clay that needed to be smoothed, she ran her palms along his pecs, down his sides and up again in a slow, circular motion. “And you have the most beautiful body. I would love to sculpt you.”

  As big a glutton for punishment as he’d ever known, he stood there letting her drive him crazy.

  “But then you’d have to pose for me.” Her fingers ran over his chest and his pebble-hard nipples. “Naked.”

  He groaned and grabbed her hands. “Kate—”

  “Don’t try to tell me you don’t want this.”

  “Oh, I want this. More than you can imagine.”

  She stood with her feet still on the bottom rung of her stool, bringing herself eye level and flush against him. “Then what’s the problem?” She wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him toward her.

  Their already open mouths met in a flurry of need. Warm tongues, soft lips, hot breath. He forced himself to keep his hands at his sides. If he touched her, he already knew he wasn’t going to be satisfied with merely holding her. He’d want skin. Demand contact. Heat.

  She hooked her foot around his leg, bringing her center closer, and with a moan he gave in, bent and wrapped his arms around her. Dragging up her T-shirt, his hands finally connected with the silky-soft skin on her back.

  Before he knew it, he was the one sitting on her work stool and she’d climbed onto him, straddling him. They met, eye to eye, shoulder to shoulder, chest to…petite but oh-so-fine breasts. His groin to hers. And a hard-on pulsed uncomfortably under his jeans.

  As she nibbled on his lower lip, his cell phone rang, bringing him to his senses. What was he doing? He pulled back. “I have to take this.” It wasn’t March’s phone. This had to be Trace.

  “I know,” she whispered.

  With one arm wrapped around Kate, he stood, set her away from him and quickly flicked on the phone. “Trace?”

  “Yeah. Bad news.”

  Riley gripped the cell phone tighter as Trace’s tense voice sounded over the line. Jenny had to be alive. She had to still be alive. He wouldn’t let himself believe anything else. “You lost March?” That had to be it. “Outside Shanghai.”

  He glanced at Kate and a concerned expression flashed over her features. “Explain.” He paced the floor of the workroom.

  “I was hot on their tail landing in China. Met up with my men and we followed him, watching, waiting for any opening.” Traced sighed. “I’m telling you, Riley, we took every precaution, but they took off in the middle of the night. Slipped away.”

  “Do you think he knew you were there?”

  “No way. He guessed. He’s being careful.”

  “Do you have any idea where he went?”

  Kate was listening to his side of the conversation and clearly trying to make sense of it.

  “Yeah,” Trace said. “I can track him. Find him. Follow him.” But there was something else bothering Trace. Hesitation was there in his voice.

  “What else is going on, Trace? Spill it.”

  “This isn’t going to be as easy as we thought.” He paused. “March knows how you think. He knows you’ve called me. He’s going to anticipate this move.”

  Probably. Riley stopped pacing. “You got a better idea?”

  “Yeah.” Trace paused. “I head straight to Turkey.”

  A chill ran along Riley’s spine. “Take your sights off Jenny, and we could lose her for good.”

  “Riley, man, she’s already out of my sight. We don’t change tactics and we could lose her. The best plan of attack at this point is to jump ahead of March and set a trap for him instead of following him. If we can determine his target in Turkey, I can set up and wait for him.”

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “I said no.”

  “Listen to me!” Trace yelled, forcing Riley to pull the phone away from his ear. “Life doesn’t always happen by the book. What if March heads back to Shanghai, hops a plane and he’s gone before I know it? I’d be behind him every step of the way. If we can figure out his destination in Turkey, I’ll be one step ahead of him.”

  “March might be expecting that.”

  “Not from you. He expects you not to let Jenny out of sight.”

  Riley hated to admit it, but Trace was right.

  “Let me keep one of my men tracking March. The other three of us head to Turkey. All I need to know is who his target is in Istanbul.”

  Kate. She knew a lot about these statues. She might know who in Turkey owned one. “Hold on,” Riley said, glancing at Kate. He put his hand over the phone.

  “What’s the matter?” she said. “What happened?”

  “I’ll explain later. Right now I need to know if you think you can figure out who owns the last statue on March’s list. The one in Turkey.”

  “I can try,” she said.

  “That’s not good enough. Trace needs to know for sure.”

  “Riley, I can’t guarantee—”

  “Jenny’s life depends on this.”

  She held his gaze. “I’ll do the best I can.”

  Kate’s best was pretty good. He put the phone back to his ear. “Trace? We’ll go with your plan. Head directly to Turkey. I’ll call you as soon as we know March’s target.”

  “You sure?”

  “No, I’m not sure. But Kate’ll be on it. If anyone can figure this out, she can.”

  “Riley, I’m sorry we lost March.”

  “Not your fault, Trace.”

  Trace disconnected the call and Riley glanced at Kate. The heat of their embrace had evaporated the instant his cell had rung with Trace’s call. The barest trace of regret shaded her amber eyes.

  Quickly he explained what
was happening with Trace. “I’m going to call it a night,” he whispered, stepping away from her. “All right?”

  “Sure. You go on upstairs,” she said. “I’m going to stay here and make a few calls before I head to bed.”

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She turned her back on him and pulled out her cell phone.

  She wasn’t fine. Not even close.

  But then, neither was he. With this need he felt for her building inside him, there was no way he’d be getting to sleep any time soon.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Friday, 12:50 a.m.

  THERE. DONE. ALMOST.

  Kate took a deep breath and closely examined her work one last time. Any more tweaking and she took the risk of making the clay look overworked and ruining the rustic appeal she’d taken pains to create. Now all that was left was for the figure to partially dry to a leather-hard state so that tomorrow she could do some cutting, scraping and filing in the hopes of aging this thing several hundred years. For that final process, she’d have to wait until morning.

  She took a deep breath, carefully set her work-in-progress in the middle of the counter and partially covered it with plastic, allowing it to dry gradually. If the clay dried too quickly, it could crack and she’d have to start all over again in the morning, but for tonight this was as good as it was going to get.

  She glanced at her cell phone, saw there were messages and realized she’d unknowingly set the phone to vibrate. She’d gotten three calls back from her inquiries about the Turkish statue’s whereabouts. As she listened to her voice mail, her shoulders sagged. No one had a clue who owned the statue or how to find it.

  On leaving the workroom, she found the house quiet and dark, but for a dimly lit few wall sconces. Apparently everyone had long since gone to sleep. Even Riley. Although how he could’ve slept after that kiss they’d shared was beyond her.

  She contemplated going to her room, but she was much too wired to sleep. Quietly she crept into the kitchen, snuck a couple butter cookies from the jar on the counter and then went out onto the veranda for a breath of fresh air.

  Without a cloud in the sky, the almost full moon was as bright as she’d ever seen it. She went to the railing and stared out over the city of Athens, lit up and still bustling with activity even at this late hour. She could even see the Acropolis with its Christmas-tree frame now glowing with strings of blue and white lights, Greece’s colors, and topped with a monstrous star.