Fatal Cover-Up
DEADLY CONSPIRACYTalia Morello moved to Rome for a fresh start—but instead finds herself at the center of a deadly art smuggling ring with everything to lose, including her life. Someone’s dead set on retrieving three priceless paintings believed to have been stolen by Talia’s late husband. And when his unsolved murder is linked to the bullet that killed FBI agent Joe Bryant’s brother during a museum heist, Joe is determined to find out all of Talia’s secrets. When she denies any involvement, Joe’s gut and heart tell him to trust her. But with the target on Talia’s back only growing, there may not be time to uncover the whole truth and save the woman he’s falling for…
Читать Fatal Cover-Up онлайн беплатно
DEADLY CONSPIRACY
Talia Morello moved to Rome for a fresh startâbut instead finds herself at the center of a deadly art smuggling ring with everything to lose, including her life. Someoneâs dead set on retrieving three priceless paintings believed to have been stolen by Taliaâs late husband. And when his unsolved murder is linked to the bullet that killed FBI agent Joe Bryantâs brother during a museum heist, Joe is determined to find out all of Taliaâs secrets. When she denies any involvement, Joeâs gut and heart tell him to trust her. But with the target on Taliaâs back only growing, there may not be time to uncover the whole truth and save the woman heâs falling for...
âThe man gave me seventy-two hours to come up with the paintings.â
âAnd if you canât?â Joe asked.
âI donât know, but theyâre clearly not playing games.â Talia glanced back at the photos. âI also called Thomasâs mother. I described the paintings and she thinks she remembers seeing them. If she does still have them, theyâre probably somewhere in their apartment.â
Joe started to touch her arm, then pulled back from the too intimate gesture, wishing Talia didnât look so vulnerable. He knew what it was like to have the life of a sibling threatened. Knew what it was like to lose a brother. And personal or not, he would see that neither she nor her sister were hurt.
âIâm going to make sure we find those paintings, and that nothing happens to either one of you in the meantime.â
âYou canât guarantee that.â
âMaybe not.â He pulled out his phone, hating the fact that she was right. âBut I can promise Iâll do everything in my power to stop whoeverâs behind this.â
LISA HARRIS is a Christy Award winner and winner of the Best Inspirational Suspense Novel for 2011 from RT Book Reviews. She and her family are missionaries in southern Africa. When sheâs not working she loves hanging out with her family, cooking different ethnic dishes, photography and heading into the African bush on safari. For more information about her books and life in Africa, visit her website at lisaharriswrites.com.
For He gives His sunlight to both the evil and the good, and He sends rain on the just and the unjust alike.
âMatthew 5:45
To my kids. Iâll never forget our own Italian adventure. Famous landmarks, cross-country train rides, gelato, scorching heat, more gelato...
Contents
Talia Morello stared out across Romeâs ancient Colosseum, unable to shake the uneasiness sheâd felt all afternoon. Someone was watching her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she glanced around the massive stone amphitheater with its iconic vaulted arches. Drawing in a steadying breath, she told herself she was simply being paranoid. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldnât shake the eerie feeling.
She wiped off a row of sweat from her forehead. Of course, it was impossible to know for certain if someone really was watching her. Four million tourists visited this historical monument every year, and today, even with the steamy July heat, the Colosseum seemed busier than normal, with its never-ending lines snaking around the outside of the monument.
She lifted the bright orange flag she was carrying a few inches higher to ensure the fifteen enthusiastic tourists who had shown up in the heart of Rome to visit the famous site didnât get separated from her in the crowd. It was her job to see that they left having experienced the best tour of the ruinsâeven if dismissing the feeling that someone was watching her was proving impossible.
She studied the crowd as she led them toward the last stop of the tour. Someone from a group of Japanese tourists was holding up a selfie stick for a photo. A small crowd clustered together at one of the open spaces overlooking the floor of the Colosseum. Her attention shifted to a man standing against one of the stone walls to the left. He wasnât a part of the group, and didnât seem to be paying attention to his surroundings. Had she seen him before today? Normally, she wouldnât have given him more than a passing glance, but while most of the tourists had cameras or cell phones to take photos, he didnât. A second later he smiled and hurried toward to a woman holding on to two little girls.
Talia swallowed hard. She was just being paranoid. The text sheâd received last night was nothing more than a coincidence. A wrong number.
Except she knew that wasnât true.
I know you have the paintings. Meet me at the Spanish Steps when you get off work. I know who murdered your husband. You donât want to be next.
Her heart pounded. While she didnât know about any paintings, the mention of her husbandâs murder proved this was no coincidence.
âWere all the gladiators slaves?â A twelve-year-old wearing a baseball cap and a New York Yankees shirt pressed in beside her.
