Page 54 of Enduring Caine
Antonio hummed. “I want something with whipped cream this morning. And custard sounds good.”
Elliot said he’d be in the bakery at ten and two. It was only nine thirty, so I kept alert, in case we met him on the way. There was a seawall at the far end of the square; we could talk there, but with both Leo and Cristian keeping an eye on us, the odds of me getting away so easily were low.
“Yeah, custard sounds good,” I said.
Antonio squeezed me, pulling my attention back from what I could see of the square between the last few houses along the road. “You already said that.”
“Something interesting over there?” asked Leo, more accusation than question. His gaze followed mine, out to the seawall.
I was thinking too much. Elliot was an expert, in the business far longer than Leo, but I couldn’t give Leo any hints about what Antonio and I were up to.
Cristian looked toward the water, as well.
A squealing noise broke through the hum of the town—the chattering voices, squawking gulls, and breaking waves—and my attention tore away from Antonio. A tiny car came barreling around the corner onto our street. A mop of black hair was barely visible over the steering wheel. Could the driver even see?
The car careened out of its lane toward the sidewalk.
“Cristian!” I bolted straight for him before the car reached us. My shoulder slammed into his side and all the air rushed out of him at once. We fell hard onto the sidewalk as the sound of smashing metal echoed behind us, competing with screams, yells, and a great deal of swearing in various languages.
Before I could check on Cristian, two large and very strong hands hauled me up into the air, practically tossing me across the sidewalk.
I collided with the short wall separating the walkway from the square down below.
Antonio rushed to my side. Leo—gun out and head on a swivel—knelt over Cristian, who was still on the ground, clutching his head. Leo must have been the one who threw me.
The little green car had rammed into a parked one, but the driver had slowed just enough that the damage would be minor. If I hadn’t gotten Cristian out of the way, though, he could have been seriously hurt.
“Are you alright, bella?” Antonio’s good hand prodded at my head, my shoulders, my elbow.
I waved him off. “Who was that?”
As if in answer to my question, Leo shouted for Antonio and stood, readying an all-out assault on the car. But just then a kid, several years younger than Cesca, jumped out from the driver’s seat and ran down the road.
That explained why I only saw the top of his head.
“Go,” I waved Antonio over to Cristian, who seemed to need him more than I did.
A black-clad local policeman on a motorcycle came speeding around the corner. Leo’s gun was back in his waistband immediately, and a man in jeans and a sweater vest approached him, saying in French that he was a doctor.
“Are you alright?” A familiar voice next to me. Elliot.
“Yeah.” I looked at him and then intentionally flicked my eyes to the scene. Other than the surprise and probably a tear in my clothes, I really was fine. But I pressed a hand to my head and hauled myself onto the separating wall, feigning shock. “I just need to sit for a minute or two.”
The officer parked his motorcycle and took off his helmet.
Elliot sat next to me and patted my back, playing the role of concerned bystander, but keeping his voice low. “We don’t have a lot of time. First, are you safe?”
“Yes. But they’ve got a guard detail on me pretty much twenty-four-seven.”
“Think you can do a job for me?”
I kept my eyes forward, watching Leo argue with the officer, gesturing wildly down the road. With the help of Antonio and the French doctor, Cristian sat up, clutching the shoulder he landed on.
“Get that little troublemaker back here!” Leo yelled. The way he’d stashed the gun in his belt, I wouldn’t have expected him to call attention to himself with the officer. How much did he interact with the local police? If they were running a smuggling operation out of a villa next to this tiny town, they probably all knew him well.
“What kind of job?” I asked.
He pulled out his phone and pressed it to his ear, pretending to take a call, but keeping his voice down. “We got a tip about a new acquisition. I need confirmation.”