Winchester and Lincoln Cash and their detail had left to scout Lucca for possible movie locations.

York poured himself a fresh cup of coffee from the press in the middle of the table. He wore a blue dress shirt, cuffed around his forearms, a pair of jeans, his blond hair tousled after a morning shower. He hadn’t, however, shaved, his razor left behind in Florence.

Logan helped himself to one of Tessa’s fresh blueberry muffins. “Coco confirmed the source of the explosion in the hotel, a bouquet of flowers in the suite, delivered that morning, so I think your analysis is on the right track, RJ. Something set that bomb off, something designed for the director, possibly when he returned to his suite at the lunch break.” Logan said. He nodded at RJ. “Good job.”

She nodded, back, but York’s voice was in her head. “And then we go home.”

She hated how much she wanted that. But yesterday’s near miss had found her bones.

Her heart.

She was with Angel. If she were honest, the desire for adventure had burned out of her over the past two weeks. She simply wanted York alive, whole, and home.

“Thankfully—and we’re not sure how—but Grey left his hotel room with an old friend from Lauchtenland the night before last. He wasn’t even in Italy yesterday. We checked into the Tweet—it originated from the account of Arlo Fletcher, PH.D. of contagious diseases. He was at the conference too. Grey guest lectured yesterday at Haxton University, where he once spent a semester. We think that’s where he and Arlo met. In fact, they’ve had a number of meetings over the years, and this isn’t the first time Grey had guest lectured. It seems to be a pattern—he pops into Haxton, and then spends a weekend at the Royal Lodge, near Hadsby Castle, in the Highcrest Mountains.”

He handed them a map of Lauchtenland. “It’s a small island country off the coast of Germany, bordering both the small island country of Brighton and the Duchy of Hessenberg. It’s ruled by the House of Blue, Queen Catherine on the throne. Ironically, Grey is on the guest list of the tri-annual Queen’s Garden Dance this weekend, the Rosendans, at Hadsby Castle.”

RJ looked at the map, printed out in black and white. Mountains to the north, the main city, Port Fressa in the south.

“So, he was on his way to Lauchtenland after the conference?”

“Apparently. But he left early,” said Logan.

“Has anyone gotten a hold of Grey?” Roy asked.

“Not yet, but we do know that he checked out of the Delafield Hotel where he was staying. My guess is that he’s on his way to the Royal Lodge.” Logan folded up the map.

“And we are too,” Roy said. He wore a new sling but looked a little gray today.