The Honeymoon Heist by Brad Taylor

Author:Brad Taylor [Taylor, Brad]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Thrillers, Political, War & Military, Action & Adventure
ISBN: 9780063355651
Google: QuK5EAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B0C2Q7JDBH
Barnesnoble: B0C2Q7JDBH
Goodreads: 134242696
Publisher: Witness Impulse
Published: 2023-10-03T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

The sun was well above the horizon by the time the local Italian police decided they’d gleaned enough information, with crime scene guys and uniformed policemen questioning each and every one of us over and over again. Finally, they’d removed the bodies and said we were free to go, with the hotel staff stumbling all over themselves to help us, petrified about the Tripadvisor review we’d give them for this.

View is incredible, and the staff is pretty nice, but we shouldn’t have to pay extra for the two men who tried to murder us in our room.

Luckily there was no blood splashed across the floor, meaning cleaning the leftovers from the fight was relatively simple. I couldn’t say the same about the pool area—it was probably a mess. The hotel had offered us a different room, but there was only one other two-bedroom suite on the grounds, and it was occupied. The best we could get was a single with a pullout couch, and that wasn’t going to work for the rest of our honeymoon. Once the police had left, I’d told them we’d just stay where we were. That made them ecstatic, and they’d promised all sorts of free perks as they walked out the door. Finally, we were alone again.

I looked at my watch and said, “We can still make that meeting if we hurry.”

Jennifer, her eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, said, “What meeting?”

“The church. We can still make it and pay for this trip.”

Jennifer sagged and said, “I don’t think I want to go look at that church now. I think we should just go home at this point.”

“Go home? You mean the United States?”

“Yeah, Pike, that’s what I mean.”

“Are you serious? It’s our honeymoon.”

Exasperated, Jennifer said, “We just killed two guys here, and we have no idea why. We’ve been cleared by the police as if it’s some sort of home invasion, but we know that’s not true. Those guys were at the grotto. Let’s just go home.”

I looked at Amena, and she said, “That might be for the best.”

I said, “I’m not going home because of some idiots who happened to enter our room looking for Rolex watches or computers to steal.”

“Pike, come on. You know that wasn’t what they wanted. They asked that weird question about Caravaggio paintings—and that’s the exact artist who was in the grotto. The one on Amena’s phone and the one in the art gallery.”

Which was true. I said, “Well, why should we give up our honeymoon? We’ve already paid for everything.”

“You really want to stay in a room where you killed a guy that came in with a gun? Seriously?”

“Okay, but let’s at least go meet the church people. I don’t want to stand them up, and we can get some breakfast.”

She said, “Honestly, I’m not really that hungry after last night.”

I started to answer when someone knocked on the door. What now?

I went down to it and answered, seeing an Italian in a rumpled suit. No uniform, but he held out a badge.

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