Cleopatra's Necklace (Devlin Security Force Book 3) Read Free Page A

the jewelry shop where she works. You’d better be able to find the address.”
    “ Si, si , on a side street near the bridge. My cousin owns a bakery nearby.”
    The icon was moving again.
    Ricci flipped over the laptop and pried open the bottom panel. The hard drive popped out easily. Now the polizia could not follow his search, and he might find useful information in the memory. He slipped the metal device into his pocket. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 2
    CLEO WHEELED HER carry-on bag down the bridge’s wide steps. The still waters of the Rio di San Cassiano gleamed beneath the streetlight. Light from windows spilled misshapen shadows onto the paving stones. For company, she had the occasional dog walker and the ever-present briny smell that permeated the city’s ancient stones and mortar. The aromas of sautéing fish and spicy sauces drifted by.
    She hustled along beneath the streetlights, turning one familiar corner after another, the route she followed every day to and from work. Automatic and it had to be because she could barely see through the tears that kept welling up. She kept picturing René’s body, his staring eyes, the blood. He’d been so charming, such fun, so… alive.
    She stuffed her mobile back into her jeans pocket. Once she’d made it at least two canals away from the flat, she called the polizia , but didn’t dare give her name. Eventually they’d trace the call, but she’d be far away by then. Where she had no idea. She’d face that issue once she’d reached the mainland.
    The second call had gone unanswered. Drat her brother. But maybe leaving a message on his voicemail saved time. And anguish. He’d have asked more questions than she could answer, more than she could bear to answer. Calling Mom would be disastrous; no way did she want her dad to know. She sniffed back tears. Where would she go? The image of René dead on the sofa played in her brain in an endless loop and she couldn’t focus.
    Now thirty minutes later, she was almost to the Rialto shop. Her key would let her in and she’d leave a note for her boss. Yes, think about the future, not the grief and panic clawing at her throat. Fewer vaporetti ran this late, but she could take the number one to the taxi square, then catch transportation to the mainland.
    “Oh, Cleo, there you are! I was afraid I was lost.”
    Her heart took off like a Grand Prix racer, and she gasped and swung around. Mimi. Thank heavens. Only Mimi . Oh, no, she’d forgotten their date. Seeing her cousin hurrying toward her on the narrow side street, Cleo took a deep breath.
    When Mimi had first contacted her, she thought their being related was a scam. Until she learned about the other woman’s family and saw photos of Mimi on Facebook. Not just cousins, they were within two years of the same age and were mirror images of each other—down to the hair length and eye color.
    We could be twins. Maybe not identical twins, but fraternal for sure.
    Now that Cleo had changed from her work attire, they were dressed similarly, except Mimi’s jeans were designer and pressed with a knife-sharp crease and she’d bound her auburn hair into a sleek tail. A black quilted backpack hung off one shoulder.
    Mimi rushed toward her and enveloped her in a warm lilac-scented embrace. Her cousin’s touch was just what she needed, a living human being to reassure her she was still alive, only numb from shock.
    Mimi stepped back and cocked her head. “You’ve been crying. Here, damage repair.” She fished a hand mirror from her pack and offered a tissue.
    Cleo dabbed at the dark smudges beneath her eyes. Eyes that looked shell-shocked. She forced herself to focus on removing the mascara smears.
    Mimi said, “René didn’t come with you. What’s wrong?”
    René had warned Cleo that “they” were everywhere and they would be after her. Telling Mimi might involve her, put her in danger. She could say nothing.
    She waved an airy dismissal. “No biggie. Tears of