Treasured Secrets (24 page)

When Archer shook Yanis's hand at the end of the day, he'd asked the old man to keep the details of their research a secret, and with a cheeky grin and a wad of cash now in his pocket, Yanis had assured Archer their secret would go with him to the grave.

Rosalina sipped her champagne and listened to the friendly banter of the group around her. As the conversation moved to the attack, Rosalina looked at the people she considered her family. The anxiety over anything happening to them, particularly now that they knew they were in danger, gnawed at her stomach. Ginger had even started growing on her and Rosalina felt obligated to overlook her naïve innocence and teach her a few cooking techniques.

Rosalina helped Ginger prepare a delicious dinner of fresh fish and a selection of local vegetables, and not long after she finished eating she became weary. Within a short time she was struggling to keep her eyes open. Rosalina kissed them all goodnight and retired to her bedroom.

Moments after she went to her room, a knock on her door had her smiling. She pulled her silk nightgown on and tightened the belt around her waist before opening the door. Archer greeted her with a bag of crushed ice. ‘Thought you might like some help with your bruises.'

‘Really?' Despite her intended rejection, she grinned as she welcomed him in.

‘I noticed you favouring one side of your delicious derriere. Let me see it.'

‘I don't think so.'

‘I won't take no for an answer. On the bed. Lift your skirt.'

She huffed. ‘That's romantic.'

‘Rosa, I know you're hurt. So stop faking it and lift your skirt.'

He eased her onto the bed and she stared into his smouldering eyes as he lifted her skirt over her hip. ‘Oh Jesus, babe, why didn't you tell me it was so bad?' He sat beside her and his eyes filled with concern as he rolled the ice bag in his palm and then gently held it to her thigh. ‘I think I need more ice.'

‘My butt's that big, hey?'

‘Your butt's perfect. The bruise isn't.'

The coldness of the ice began to sting and she winced against it, but he wouldn't let her withdraw. She laid her head back on the pillow and tried to relax. ‘Archer, I'm really scared.'

He tilted his head at her. ‘I know, but he won't get near us again.'

‘What do you think he wants?'

‘I know what he wants. The treasure.'

‘So what do we do?' she asked.

‘We just keep an eye out all the time. And be very careful with any more enquiries we make. I don't think we'll see the priest again anyway.'

‘I hope not.'

The ice was beginning to melt and a drip of water tickled as it rolled down her inner thigh. She moved to wipe it but Archer caught the drip with his thumb. Their eyes met.

‘If something happened to you, I couldn't live with myself.' His voice was barely a whisper, but his words spoke volumes. He leant in to kiss her forehead and she moved to catch his lips with hers. A soft moan tumbled from his throat as she tasted sweet Frangelico on his probing tongue.

She cupped his neck as he let her go. ‘Nothing's going to happen to me; not now that we're back together.'

‘From now on, we stick together. Joined at the hip.'

‘I'm okay with that.' She patted the bed and Archer lay down beside her. He wrapped his arm over her waist and whispered something unintelligible in her ear. For a split second she thought he'd said he loved her, but she didn't want to ruin the moment by asking him to repeat it.

She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of water lapping at the side of the yacht as her exhaustion lulled her into sleep.

***

Brother Nox checked his wounds, wiped away the dried blood, applied a coat of iodine to the jagged cuts and replaced the bloodied bandage around his neck with a fresh one he'd bought at the chemist. The groaning sounds that had been emanating from Brother Bonito's bedroom had now subsided. As he stood, Nox rolled up his sleeves, stepped across the room, and opened the bedroom door.

The near naked woman who stood in the doorway repulsed him, but the guilty pleasures she provided to Brother Bonito could never be satisfied any other way. It hadn't been too hard to find her, and he didn't mind paying handsomely for her discretion. Her duties, as necessary as they were noisome, would ensure Brother Bonito's undivided attention. He instructed her to cover up and paid her well, before she scurried out the back door of their tiny rented cottage.

Brother Bonito sat rigid on the side of the bed. His slow reaction to cover his nakedness indicated the hallucinogenic powder was still in effect. Brother Bonito had not followed Nox to the Greek Islands willingly. Nox had only convinced Bonito to join him after a very brief discussion over a series of photographs he still had in his possession. None of the photos were as salacious as the ones he now had, but they'd depicted Bonito in compromising positions and were perfect for blackmailing the younger priest. Now, nearly a month after that initial discussion, the pathetic Bonito had begun to question Nox's motives. It was time to show him the type of control Nox could muster and reaffirm his domination.

As Nox strode into the room, Brother Bonito's weakened form shrunk further into itself. His beaded brow and shifting eyes said more than his ragged breathing. He was now a lost soul sinking into the trappings of a guilty man. But now Nox held ultimate control, and this was only the beginning. When Nox removed a camera that had been hidden in the overcrowded bookcase at the end of the bed, he made no effort to conceal the device.

Brother Bonito's eyes threatened to pop out of his skull when he saw what Nox was holding in his hands. His body shrivelled up further, then his head slumped to his hands. Nox was looking at a shattered man. No longer a man of faith. His choice for intimacy had destined him for a life at the mercy of Nox, forever trapped by guilt.

As a tear slipped downed the reddened cheek of Brother Bonito, Nox smiled wide enough to reveal the gap in his yellowed teeth to the weaker man.

Archer and his unlikely group of treasure hunters settled into a pattern of cruising to an island, investigating the gravesites, sampling the abundance of local delicacies at a café or taverna and then settling back onto the yacht for the evening. Each morning, Jimmy, Alessandro and Ginger slept in while Archer and Rosalina woke early, and with coffee and fresh pastries in hand, poured over the charts provided by Yanis to decide on the next island to visit. Archer loved watching Rosalina's decision-making process. She was methodical, decisive, and always adamant she was right. But Archer didn't mind. Letting her win each debate was part of the fun.

After nearly a week of island hopping, Archer set a course for Patmos Island with a plan to let the staff off for a couple of days. The exhausted crew hadn't had a day off since they'd left Australia and there were hints of a mutiny. But this meant that once
Evangeline
was anchored and everybody went ashore, she would be unmanned. Their scare at Andros Island had been a wake-up call and now Archer kept constant watch on the surrounding boats to monitor if they were being followed. So far, everything appeared normal.

Patmos Island was like every other island they'd visited in that Archer's luxurious yacht simply didn't fit in the marina. So, after Archer gave each crew member a healthy cash bonus, Jimmy escorted them ashore for a couple of days of hard-earned R&R. He was quick to return with the boat for Rosalina, Ginger, Alessandro and Archer, and within a couple of minutes they cruised towards the island famous for the Cave of the Apocalypse. According to Alessandro, this was where John the Apostle was said to have written the Book of Revelations.

Unlike the first couple of islands they'd visited, Patmos was not known as a party island. Its deeply religious past dictated its low-key nightlife, and a quiet night was exactly the type of evening Archer needed.

Jimmy guided the tender to an ancient-looking jetty and Archer jumped out to tie the boat to wooden pillars that appeared centuries old themselves. He helped Rosalina climb out of the boat first and when he turned back to the tender, he noticed how comfortable Alessandro was in placing his hands on Ginger's hips to help her out. Once Alessandro was within earshot Archer whispered in his ear, ‘You old devil, you.'

Alessandro looked at him as if he had no idea what he was talking about, but his act wasn't lost on Archer. Archer winked, and Alessandro dismissed him with a nervous laugh before following the ladies down the pier.

The town of Skala was not only the major town on Patmos, it was also the island's main port. And despite being the most populated town on the island, it still retained its relaxed island atmosphere. As they strolled along the jetty towards the shore, Archer couldn't shake the underlying feeling he'd been here before. For some reason, a tense knot began to screw in the pit of his stomach. Rosalina reached for his hand, and as he welcomed the clutch of her fingers he tried to shake his unjustified nervousness.

‘For thousands of years people from all walks of life have been passing through this little town to visit Patmos.' Alessandro was in professor mode. ‘Did you know Skala means “stairway”?'

Jimmy clapped Alessandro on the back. ‘You're a regular
Funk and Wagnalls
.'

‘What the hell does that mean?' Alessandro shrugged off Jimmy's muscle-clad arm.

‘Relax, Alex,' Archer said. ‘It's a compliment.
Funk and Wagnalls
are a brand of dictionary.'

‘I know that.' Alessandro blushed as he glanced at Ginger, but she smiled as if oblivious to the joke at his expense.

‘Tell me about Patmos.' Ginger sidled up beside Alessandro and blinked at him like an overzealous student.

Alessandro's puffed his chest out before he spoke. ‘Patmos was once the perfect place to house criminals, as it was so inaccessible.' Ginger tucked her arm into Alessandro's elbow and for a brief moment he seemed lost for words. But he cleared his throat and continued. ‘It's believed Saint John the Divine was sent here in exile. During that time he lived in a cave where he apparently heard the voice of God, and that's why he wrote the Book of Revelations. It's hard to believe this beautiful island was the setting for such a dark book.'

‘How do you know all this stuff?' Ginger said.

‘I'm a historian. It's my job.'

‘I thought you were an architect.' Jimmy scratched his chest through his shirt.

‘As a matter of fact, I'm a Professor of History and Architecture. I majored in Ancient History.'

‘Wow, you're so smart,' Ginger said.

Archer rolled his eyes at Rosalina and she wriggled her eyebrows in response.

The beach was dotted with an assortment of boats, from abandoned wrecks to little fishing tinnies fitted with all manner of modern equipment. Pelicans cruised across the smooth water in an elegant aquatic dance while seagulls squawked noisily above as they performed nimble acrobatics.

Many couples sat at the small tables decorated in the traditional blue-and-white chequered tablecloths and shared bottles of wine as they gazed out over the ocean. The fiery backdrop of the setting sun transformed the couples into romantic silhouettes.

Rosalina tugged on Archer's arm and he noticed the look of satisfaction in her eyes as she nodded towards Alessandro and Ginger. Archer couldn't decide if their meeting was by design or accident, but he sure was grateful Alessandro's focus had shifted from Rosalina to the blonde Australian. Ginger and Alessandro looked very comfortable, strolling arm in arm along the beach as if they were lovers.

Alessandro pointed high up the hill. ‘See that building?'

Ginger squinted into the distance and Archer followed Alessandro's outstretched finger.

‘It looks like a Byzantine fortress, but it's actually the Monastery of St John the Theologian. It was built in 1088.'

‘Holy cow, that's nearly a thousand years old,' Ginger said.

Alessandro continued to detail the features of the monastery but Archer blocked out his voice when a much smaller building high on a bluff caught his eye. He was positive he'd been there before. The knot in his stomach twisted tighter and the unsettling of his nerves surprised him.

Ginger jumped up and down with girlish excitement. ‘Oh, Archer, it's so beautiful here. Can we sit at one of these tables and watch the sunset? Please?'

Archer looked at Rosalina and she smiled in agreement.

As Jimmy tugged two tables together, Archer went to the bar to order a round of drinks. He pulled up a bar stool and stared into the mirror behind the bar. It was not his usual relaxed reflection that looked back. Something was about to happen. He felt it as sure as he smelt the salty sea air. The waitress returned with his order.

‘Say,' he said, ‘you don't happen to know the name of that little church up on the hill?'

In response she pointed at a coaster on the bar. He gathered the coaster and flicked it between his fingers. The sense of déjà vu was overwhelming. The coaster had a picture of a building with whitewashed walls and bold pink flowers. The words ‘Zoodochos Pigi' written upon it made his knees buckle. A memory burst from his mind like a freight train and he steadied himself against the bar. He recalled uncontrollable tears rolling down his cheeks, cold stone walls that sucked every ounce of energy from his body, flowers that smelt sickly sweet and robed women with no answers.

He turned away from the bar. The band in the corner became a muffled noise as his brain tangled with the long-forgotten memories. The path beneath his feet crunched in time to his urgency. He dropped four hundred euro on the table for Jimmy and told him to enjoy the night. He then grabbed Rosalina's hand, turned back towards the path, and tugged her along with him. Jimmy called to him, but he was like a machine; focused, driven, determined, no longer in control of his thoughts.