Treasured Secrets (10 page)

‘He said I've got one day to bring
the rest
.'

‘The rest of what?'

‘I don't friggin' know.'

‘Don't shout at me.' Alessandro's dark eyes drilled into him. ‘I'm calling the
polizia
.'

‘Okay, okay…I'm sorry.' Archer held his palms up, to calm both Alessandro and himself. ‘This's crazy.'

Archer watched on, helpless, as Alessandro spoke into his phone.

‘
Ciao, la mia ragazza è appena stata rapita da un prete
.' Alessandro's rapid-fire Italian grew more aggressive with each sentence.

He cupped the phone. ‘They don't believe it. They laughed at me.' He said a few more words into the phone, then he hung up, shaking his head. ‘They think I'm crazy. What do we do now?' Alessandro pleaded for an answer and Archer felt the weight of Rosalina's safety on his shoulders.

Archer stepped back, scanning the church walls. ‘We figure out where he's taking her.' He marched towards the other side of the church. ‘Tell me how to get in.'

‘
Va bene
, let's see.' Alessandro cleared his throat. ‘This church was built in —'

‘Jesus Christ, I don't need a bloody history lesson.'

‘I told you not to shout at me.' Alessandro's eyes narrowed, and for the first time since he'd met the Italian, Archer saw fury beneath those black eyes.

Archer drove his hands through his hair and sucked in a deep breath. ‘Fine. Go ahead.'

‘This church was built in the eleventh century, which means a burial chamber would have been built beneath the floor. Crypts are usually found below the main apse of the church and are only accessible via an underground tunnel beneath the sanctuary.'

Archer's groan was a threat.

Alessandro glared at him. ‘To view the tomb, pilgrims entered through one door, passed the tomb and exited via another door. That way they didn't interrupt the service going on above them.'

‘Right. So we find those doors.'

‘Well…the tomb of Robert the Wise was once here. He was an incredibly popular man. The line of pilgrims would have been long. The doorways may not be close.'

‘What? You mean beyond the church?'

‘Sure.' Alessandro stepped back, strode to the middle of the Piazza del Limbo and shielded his eyes from the streetlights.

Archer clenched then unfurled his fingers. ‘What the hell're you doing?'

‘Checking for structural changes. Generally you can tell the age of a building by several factors, such as brickwork, building height, rooftops —'

Archer threw his arms in the air in frustration. ‘We don't have all night. What do you see?'

Alessandro spun to him, his jaw clenched. ‘The buildings on either side were built much later. Based on the architecture, I would say around the sixteenth century, which would fit, actually, because the church was remodelled at that time. At one point these buildings would've all had interconnecting passages. But there's no guarantee it's still like that now.'

‘Are you saying if we break into one of these buildings, we may get into the back areas of the church?'

‘You can't break into a building!' Alessandro's eyes threatened to pop out again.

‘Watch me.' Archer strode towards the nearest doorway, his fists clenched at his sides.

The man's fingers were iron bands around Rosalina's wrist as he dragged her down the dark passage. The more she struggled, the tighter his fingers squeezed. She gagged at his foul odour, but it didn't stop her sucking in deep breaths between each terrified scream.

‘If you stop screaming, I'll leave your clothes on.' His calmness was terrifying and in that instant, she had no doubt he'd done this before.

She shut up. The fear of being naked in front of him set her heart to explode. ‘Where're you taking me?'

He stopped and pulled her up close. ‘You'll be safe as long as you and your boyfriend cooperate.'

‘He's not my boyfriend.' She instantly regretted the admission.
Damn. Why did I say that?

When the man turned again, she knew resistance was useless. He tugged her along behind him. She studied the walls, looking for something, anything to memorise, but every wall, every passage, whether they went left or right looked the same. It'd be impossible for Archer and Alessandro to find her. She knew they'd both come. Both of them, working together?
That would be interesting.
Between Archer's impatience and Alessandro's fastidiousness, they might kill each other before they even got to her.

Around yet another corner they stopped, and her captor wrestled keys from his pocket. With a grating metal on metal sound, the door opened and he dragged her through it. The door was like something from a medieval movie, at least four inches thick and held together with parallel black iron rods.

‘No one will hear you down here.' He shoved her into the room and stepped back towards the door. Rosalina didn't hesitate. She dived at the man, jumping onto his back and curling her arm around his neck. His hands clawed at her arm but she squeezed even tighter. He made a gagging noise, and as Rosalina clamped tighter still she caught wafts of his hideous odour. She blocked them, focusing only on fighting her way out. He grabbed her hair and she screamed as he yanked it. The pain was like thousands of needles stabbing her scalp. With the clump of hair, he dragged her head over his shoulder. Rosalina stopped screaming and bit into the first thing her teeth could sink into — the meaty muscle in his shoulder. It was his turn to scream and he let go of her hair.

His fists were flailing now and he spun her around. Her hip hit the open door, but still she clung on. She managed to dodge his first punch, with it glancing off her forehead, but before she could react to avoid it, his next punch hit her right in the eye.

Pain exploded in her brain. Her body went limp and she hit the floor like a sack of potatoes.

His filthy body odour invaded her senses. The room began to swim.

Then everything went black.

* * *

It was impossible to reach the windows high up on a wall at the back of the church without a ladder. Even when Archer climbed the metal gate at the side of the church, he was still at least a metre short. Archer banged his fist on the solid brick wall in frustration.

He jumped down and turned to look at Alessandro with fresh eyes.
What did Rosalina see in him?
But he already knew the answer. Alessandro was safe and able to give love and take it equally in return. Something Archer could never offer completely.

Alessandro touched Archer's shoulder, tugging him back to reality. ‘See that building?' He pointed to the small stucco building with two barrel-vaulted bay windows high up the wall. ‘Based on the roofline and its relationship to the church, I bet it has an underground tunnel to the crypt.'

‘You think?'

‘I'm positive.'

But after ten or so minutes scouring that building, Archer couldn't see a way into it either. He thumped the bricks. ‘How the hell did this happen?'

‘Because of your pendant. Why is it
importante
?'

Archer reached for the necklace, rubbing it as if it were a magic lamp. He shook his head. ‘I wish I knew.'

‘Well, what do you know about it?'

‘Nothing!' he snapped.

Alessandro turned his back on Archer and strode away, his arms swinging at his sides.

‘Alex, stop, please. I really don't know anything about the damn pendant. My dad and I found it twenty years ago while scuba diving and I haven't been able to find out anything about it since. Honest.'

Alessandro reached the front of the church and turned to glare at Archer. ‘That man was fixated on it. He said, “get the rest”. What did that mean?'

‘I've got no idea. I've been trying to figure out this damn pendant for years. But I've found nothing.'

‘Where'd you do your research? Google?' His sarcasm was unmistakable.

Archer shrugged. ‘Among other places.'

‘
Stupido
Aussie.' He flicked his hand under his chin — a sign of disgust.

Archer clenched his jaw, fully aware that he deserved the insult.

Alessandro started walking away again.

Archer was torn. His instant reaction was to let Alessandro go so he could get back to figuring out how to break into the church. But it was impossible. The church was like a fortress. He had to believe Rosalina was safe…for now. That creep wanted to exchange her for ‘the rest'. Whatever that was.

He needed this Italian's help. But it was a weird partnership. They were in love with the same woman and now he wasn't so sure he could let her go. Things may get messy.

The distress over anything happening to Rosalina, even a single finger laid on her, made him clench his jaw so hard it burned. He'd kill anyone who hurt her.

***

Rosalina snapped her eyes open and blinked at the cold stone floor. It took a couple of panic-filled seconds to recall where she was. Pins and needles in her arm convinced her she'd been lying in the same position for some time. She rolled to her knees and, fighting a wave of nausea, pushed to her feet. She quickly glanced around the dimly lit room. She was alone.
Thank God
. The anguish over that man watching as she lay unconscious made her skin crawl. She scrubbed at her arms, trying to rid the filthy man from her skin. Her head pounded and her eye hurt. She reached up and felt a large lump below her eyebrow. Thankfully there was no blood, but by the feel of the bump, before long, she wouldn't be able to see out of that eye.

Shaking off her dizziness, she strode to the doors and banged on the blackened wood until her fists hurt and her throat burned from screaming. It was useless. She replayed the events in her mind and tried to judge how far she'd been dragged.
Am I still in the church?

She remembered her phone and reached into her jeans pocket, but it was gone. Racking her brain, she suddenly recalled that creep snatching it from her when it rang.

Archer or Alessandro would have called her again.
Did the creep answer her phone?
She bet he did. She'd only seen Archer angry a couple of times — his fury would've hit a whole new level when she didn't answer her mobile. And Alessandro, for that matter. He probably showed a new side to him that she'd never seen before. One thing she knew for certain — both of them would be coming for her.

Trying to ward off the cold, she hugged herself as she examined the room. Other than the door she came in through, there was only one other door at the far end of the room. It was equally as formidable as the first. Both doors were solid wood, possibly inches thick. Both looked as ancient as the church itself.

The room was as big as a twenty-table restaurant. There were no windows, and the walls were built with enormous stone bricks, each one, she guessed, would weigh as much as a baby elephant. A couple of those ugly naked light bulbs that lined the corridors were in here, casting dark shadows at random intervals.

The ceiling was a series of scalloped arches that she could almost touch at the bottom of the arch. Six large columns, intricately decorated with carvings and mosaics, held up the ceiling. The expert craftsmanship wasn't lost on her. Having spent many hours listening to Alessandro drool over architecture, she knew this room was highly significant. She suspected the enormous stone tomb centred in the middle was the reason.

The floor was made of ancient cobblestones, rough and uneven, but she did notice a worn path that led from one door to the other, passing by the tomb. Obviously at some point in history a lot of people had walked through here to view the tomb.

She placed her hand on the sarcophagus. It was cold. Very cold, actually, as if a frigid energy was being released from within. The untimely thought tumbled from nowhere and she quickly cast it aside, chastising herself for being ridiculous. She ran her finger along the carvings decorating the crypt and read the inscription: Roberto D'Angiò, Robert the Wise, King of Naples, Count of Provence and Forcalquier, 1277 to 1343.

‘You were obviously very important.' Her voice sounded flat in the enclosed space. The effigy lying atop the tomb depicted a knight holding his hands in prayer. His expression was one of deep satisfaction. At his side were his sword and shield. Examining the shield, she identified the Tuscany insignia. ‘So, Robert the Wise…why did they stop coming to see you?'

Beneath the knight's feet, carved in the same coloured stone, was a lion, its mouth open as if emitting an almighty roar. She leant over to examine it and saw something that made her gasp. Around the lion's neck, carved with intricate detail, was a necklace with a pendant, half of it missing. The remaining half had raised letters identical to Archer's pendant. It was as if his gold necklace had once been positioned right here.

She jumped at the sound of keys and cowered against the back wall. The robed man glided into the room with an evil presence that rippled fear up her spine. The hood that masked half his face hid her kidnapper's eyes. The dark shadow it created was even more disturbing. A second man shut the door behind them but slipped back into the dark edge of the room. Rosalina's first urge was to run, but it was useless. Although her courage felt as fragile as bone china, she gritted her teeth and pushed her chin forward in defiance. She forced her shoulders back, trying to convey to her kidnapper and herself that she wasn't scared.

He was much taller than she remembered, standing taller than her by at least a foot. He stood before her with authority, feet apart, hands balled into fists at his sides, jaw clenched. No sight of his eyes yet.

‘What do you want?' Her voice trembled, despite her resolve.

‘I want answers.' He waved the other man forward and a chair was placed at her side. ‘Sit.'

She resisted at first and then obeyed, certain her trembling legs wouldn't hold her much longer anyway. The second man put a small cage at her feet and she froze. ‘What the hell is that?' Inside the cage was an enormous black rat. Its thick tail thumped against the wooden bars as it whipped around.