Chapter 17

17

In case another mob awaited them at Venice’s Santa Lucia train station, Billy and the others changed their clothes, donned face masks, hats, and scarves, then gathered in the corridor.

“Okay, everyone,” Lizzie said. “Like in Rome, the plan is to blend into the crowd.”

“I hesitate to point this out, but that didn’t work so well,” Peter said.

“It worked well enough for some of us,” Billy said.

“Peter’s not wrong,” Lizzie said. “Which is why the Strategic Services team who’ll be watching over us is twice as large as the one in Rome. We’re also going to move up three cars and exit from there.”

Peter gave her a thumbs-up.

“If you get separated from the rest of us, follow the signs to the Grand Canal,” she said. “I’ll find you there.”

When the platform came into view, Billy whispered to Stacy, “How are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m great. Never better.”

“Happy to hear that.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Really?” he said drolly. “I wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t said so.” His tone turned serious. “When we leave, stay close.”

Stacy’s expression turned wary. “Are you expecting trouble?”

“I doubt that we’ll be in any danger, but it would be a mistake not to remain vigilant.”

“That’s not as comforting as you may think it sounds.”

The train finally stopped, and the line of people waiting to disembark began moving.

When Billy stepped onto the platform, he casually glanced back toward their private car. Sure enough, a crowd of gawkers were gathered there, waiting to catch a glimpse of the movie stars.

As his gaze swung back, he scanned the crowd and spotted a watcher. The man was standing to the side and had a phone pressed against his ear. Others might have thought he was in the middle of a conversation, but Billy saw it for the ruse it was. What the man was really doing was observing the passengers leaving the train.

Billy touched Stacy’s arm. “How about we get a photo of you?”

“Here?”

“Say yes,” he whispered.

“Um, yes, Billy. I would love a photo.”

He guided her to the spot he wanted, then positioned himself so that the watcher was visible over her shoulder.

He raised his phone. “Smile.”

He snapped off a couple of close-ups of the man, then a few wider pictures of Stacy.

He showed her one of the latter. “How’s this?”

“Oh, that’s good,” she said, surprised. “Can you text it to me?”

By the time they exited the station, he’d identified and photographed three more watchers.

“There you are,” Lizzie said, jogging up to them. “I thought we lost you.” She pointed at a boat tied to one of the docks. “That’s ours. Everyone else is on board. We’re just waiting for the luggage.”

As she said this, a pair of attendants exited the station, pushing carts piled high with their bags.

“And I guess we’re set,” Lizzie said. “Follow me.”

Once they and the luggage were aboard and the ropes untied, the boat motored into the wide canal.

Billy kept an eye on the station the whole time. Just before it disappeared from sight, two of the watchers raced out and started searching the crowd.

Neither man looked in the boat’s direction, however.

“Billy,” Stacy said. “What are you looking at?”

“Just a couple of rodents, scurrying around.”

“More moles?”

“Rats, I believe.”

She shivered and sucked in a breath. “Yuck. Keep them away from me.”

“I will do my best.”