She refused the offer of coffee, which indicated to Roarke her temper was well beyond flash point. His reservations manager was showing some of her own. The two women butted wills while the Italian cop huffed and puffed and the security head continued to review the discs.

"She goes to the pool." His face was grim as he followed Julianna's movements from suite to elevator, from elevator to the Garden Room off the main lobby, and from there outside toward the swimming pool.

The outside cameras kept her in view as she increased her pace to a light jog, turned away from the pool onto a garden path. And disappeared out of range.

"My apologies, Lieutenant Dallas. I should have anticipated."

"Well, someone anticipated or she wouldn't have bolted, leaving most of her things behind."

"I spoke with you," Vincenti said again. "With Capitano Giamanno, with Signore Bartelli. And no one else."

As she folded her arms, as prepared for battle as Eve, the door opened. A young woman slipped in with a tray of coffee and small breakfast cakes. "Hold it." Eve gripped her arm and had the tray rattling. "You took my initial transmission."

"This is my assistant, Elena, who referred you to me."

"Yeah, I remember." And one look at her face told Eve most of the story. "Do you know the penalty for obstructing justice, Elena?" "Mi scusi? I don't understand."

"You speak English just fine. Sit."

"Lieutenant, I won't have you browbeating my staff. Elena would hardly have aided a criminal. She is..." Vincenti trailed off. She, too, saw the story on her assistant's face.

"Maledizione!" From that one oath, she launched into a furious stream of Italian as Elena sank into a chair and began to cry.

The security head joined in, then the Italian cop, until Eve's ears were ringing. Hands were flying, tears were falling. She opened her mouth to shout them down, considered blasting a couple streams at the ceiling, when Roarke shut everyone down.

"Basta!" His voice rang with command, and had Eve gaping at him as he, too, launched into Italian.

"I beg your pardon." With obvious effort, Vincenti composed herself. "Please excuse my outburst, Lieutenant Dallas. Elena, you will tell the lieutenant, in English, what you have done."

"She said, the signora said she needed my help." Tears plopped on her clenched hands. "Her husband, he beat her. He is a terrible, terrible man of great power in the United States. She told me this, in confidence. Signorina Vincenti-".

"Uh!"

Her head dipped lower. "She came here to escape, to find some peace, but she knew he would try to find her and bring her back. He would send, she told me, a police woman from New York City. The police in this place are corrupt and would do whatever he said."

"Is that so?" Eve said, very quietly. Quietly enough Roarke laid a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"She says this, signora." Elena pleaded. "I believe her. I feel great pity for her. She is so kind to me. She says I am like the little sister she loved who died when only a child. And she looks so sad and brave."

Oh yeah, Eve thought in disgust, she had your number from the first look.

"She asks only that if this police woman Dallas-if you-contact the villa to inquire, I tell her of this." Elena blinked out more tears. "I give her time to get away before you come to take her back to this very bad man. She does not ask me to lie, only to give her this small chance. So when you speak to Signorina Vincenti, I ring madam's suite and tell her she must run away very fast. I don't believe she is what you tell me until too late. I believe her. Will I be arrested?"

Fresh tears spurted. "Will I go to prison?"

"Jesus Christ." Eve had to turn away. The kid was pitiful, and just the sort of gullible mark Julianna used most skillfully. "Get her out, send her home. I'm done with her."

"She can be charged with-"

"What's the point?" Eve interrupted Giamanno, scoured him with a brittle stare. "She's a dupe. Slapping her behind bars doesn't fix any of this." "Her employment will be terminated." Vincenti poured coffee when Elena ran tearfully from the room.

"That's not my area," Eve responded.

"I believe she's learned a valuable lesson. I would prefer you kept her on, Signorina. In a probationary capacity." Roarke accepted the first cup of coffee. "Employees who learn hard and valuable lessons early often become exceptional at their work."

"As you wish, sir. Lieutenant Dallas, I cannot hope to apologize sufficiently for the..."-she seemed to gather all her disgust into one word-"... stupidity of my assistant and what that has cost you. She is young and naive, but this does not excuse her, nor does it excuse me. I take full responsibility for the failure to do all that was necessary to help you in this matter. Elena was under my charge, therefore..."

Composed again, she turned to Roarke. "I will tender my resignation immediately. If you wish it, I will stay on to train a replacement."

"Your resignation is neither desired nor warranted, Signorina Vincenti, and will not be accepted. I trust you to handle any disciplinary action regarding your assistant."

"Former assistant," Vincenti said coolly. "She will now be re- assigned to a lesser position where she will have no contact with guests."

"Ah, well. As I said, I leave it in your thoroughly capable hands." He took those hands in his, spoke to her quietly in Italian, and made her smile again.

"You're very kind. Lieutenant, if there is anything that can be done, you have only to ask."

"She didn't walk out of the country, so I'll need to check on transportation services. She's gone, but we'll stick with procedure and do what we can to track her moves. If I can use your office."

"As long as you like." "I came down hard on you." "Yes, you did."

"Sorry." She offered a hand. "And that was really good ass-kicking with the assistant. I admire that." "Thank you." Vincenti accepted the hand. "Believe me, I have not yet finished that particular task."

She'd gone over the Swiss border, using a private car service she'd arranged, probably on her pocket-link. The car had picked her up at the end of the shady lane that led to the villa's gates. She'd been wearing a blue sundress, one she'd probably been wearing under the long, white robe.

From there it became sketchier. Public and private shuttle companies, airports, and ground transportation were being studied for any passengers meeting her description.

"She's probably already back in New York." Harnessed for takeoff, Eve shut her eyes as Roarke's private shuttle began its taxi. "I imagine so."

"One step behind. After she gets over being pissed at having her little holiday interrupted, she's going to feel really good about it. She took another battle, riding off unscathed while I eat her dust."

"You were right about her, what she would do. What she would need.

What she had here, Lieutenant, was sheer luck. Not to discount the value of luck, but I'll wager on the side of brains and grit any day of the week."

"I wouldn't mind a little of that luck to go with them. I'm going to zone out for a while here."

"That's fine." He tapped the release on the table in front of him and brought the data center into position. "How come I didn't know you could speak Italian?"

"Hmm? I don't, at least not fluently. Enough to handle basic business and employee relations. And, of course, I have a working knowledge of all the more colorful obscenities and sexual come-ons."

She could hear the faint click of him working the computer manually.

"Everything in Italian sounds like a sexual come-on or colorful obscenity. Say something."

"Silenzio."

"Nuh-uh, I can figure that one out. Say something in the sexual come- on division."

He glanced over. Her eyes were still closed, but her lips were curved upward. Apparently she'd run out of her mad, he thought, and was ready to recharge. One way or the other.

He shut the computer down, pressed the lever to have the table swing away. Leaning close, he whispered a silky stream of Italian in her ear, while his fingers roamed possessively up her thigh.

"Yeah, that sounds pretty hot." She opened one eye. "What does it mean?" "I believe it loses something in the translation. Why don't I demonstrate?"

CHAPTER 21