The Forty Column Castle by Marjorie Thelen Page A

I needed a date, I knew who to
     look up.
    When I had opened my wallet there wasn’t much Cypriot currency, so I changed five
     hundred U.S. dollars to Cypriot pounds at the banking window. Hoping that by now he
     was ready, I walked to Zach’s room with the coffee and tapped at the door. He opened
     the door dressed in long tan pants and a bulky black shirt.
    “Oh, thanks,” he said, as I handed him the coffee. “I’m almost ready.”
    “Do you have business to attend to today?” I asked, sipping coffee as I watched him.
    “Not until later.” He was packing a black sports bag on the bed and threw in his shaving
     gear. “This should do.”
    “Do you plan to stay out overnight?”
    Zach shrugged a shoulder. “Just playing it safe.” He shoved a roll of money from the
     dresser into his pocket and slid a small pile of plastic cards into the other pocket.
     “I have some friends, a trustworthy couple who live in a small place in the Troodos
     Mountains. You can stay with them a few days. They’re retired Brits. I worked with
     him on a few projects some time back. They’re well-connected. They might be able to
     help.”
    Zach picked up his bag, looked around to be sure he hadn’t left anything. He held
     out his hand. “C’mon, we don’t have much of a lead on them.”
    Like a trusting child, I took his hand. He led the way to the parking area and opened
     the Land Rover, throwing our bags on the back passenger seat. Out of the corner my
     eye I caught a flash of blue and turned enough to make out the blue Maruti sitting
     in the parking lot. Zach followed my eyes then got in the driver’s side and started
     the Rover.
    “He must have followed you from Yannis’s house. Let’s see if we can lose him.”
    We sped past the Maruti and out onto the main road, headed south to Pafos.
    I looked at Zach. “It looks like there are two in the front. Did you notice?”
    “I only saw the car. That is double bad news.” He glanced over. “Any guesses who they
     are?”
    “Given the circumstances, they might be interested in antiquities. They aren’t any
     friends of mine. They looked more Arab than Cypriot.”
    “They might be tied to the smuggling operation in some way.” Zach peered into the
     rear view mirror. “I’m going through Pafos and on toward Limasol to get to the Troodos
     since the access road into the mountains is better. We should be able to lose them
     in town. I don’t want to get caught on back roads with these guys following us.”
    He floored it, and we streaked down the highway. As we neared the outskirts of town,
     traffic slowed us down. The Maruti caught up, staying a few car lengths behind.
    Zach wove in and out of town traffic, horns blowing as we sped by. “Scoot down onto
     the floor, just in case.”
    “Good idea. I don’t fancy being picked up.” I slid off the seat on to the floor and
     hunched up facing him. I judged our progress through town by the tops of the buildings
     flashing by.
    “I admire your skill at evasive driving. Where’d you learn it?” I held on to the seat
     to keep from sliding into the dashboard.
    “On the job. I’ve done this a few times before.”
    “I see. Feel like telling me where? You haven’t told me much about what you do for
     a living.”
    He shrugged. “I do contract undercover work, mostly with local law enforcement agencies.
     I’ve done some work for the FBI. Some international jobs for the CIA.”
    “And this time? What brings you to Cyprus?”
    “Antiquities smuggling.”
    My heart started to hammer. “As in the Elizabeth Davies case?”
    Zach nodded, keeping his eyes on the road.
    My stomach clenched, doubled over and turned inside out. “Whose side are you on?”
    “I’m working for the New York City Police Department, anti-terrorism unit.”
    “Why is NYPD interested in antiquities smuggling on Cyprus?”
    “Terrorists deal antiquities to finance their operations.”
    My stomach caught fire, and I could feel flames