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Roman did when he arrived in London the next day was to meet with a private security firm. They had already sent a team to Yorkshire. There were thousands of acres on the estate where one could hide away in a cabin or hunting lodge. He wanted to make sure each and every door and window was secure.
    He wasn’t overly concerned about the manor with its state-of-the-art security system. Whoever had tried to shoot him knew not to come up to the manor. Only those who were known would get in, and those who were within were being monitored. James would keep an eye on Amelie.
    Roman parked in the garage of Cardiff Jewels’ headquarters in London’s Square Mile. With his briefcase in hand, he walked toward the elevator.
    He glanced behind him as a car approached. Its headlights stretched his shadow across the parking garage floor. The car did not slow down as he walked across the garage.
    Is the idiot late for a meeting?
    He turned for a closer look at the driver but could not see anything through the dark tint of the Mercedes’ windows.
    He picked up his pace toward the elevator up to the penthouse.
    The car sped up and was coming straight at him.
    “Bloody hell!” He lunged to the side, and fell against a parked car.
    The Mercedes swerved toward him as he leaped onto the hood of the parked car. It smashed into the front end of the car that he crouched on and he was thrown over the side, onto the hood of a second car.
    He hung onto the car’s hood just as the Mercedes rammed the crushed front end of the first car in an attempt to throw him to the ground.
    He lost his hold on the hood and fell over the side, between the second car and a third. Scrambling to his feet, he jumped out from between the two cars.
    The driver tried again, ramming into the first car once more, but Roman managed to clear the wreck.
    “Come on, you bastard.” He stalked around the damaged cars toward his attacker.
    With a cement column between him and the Mercedes, the driver could not make another go of it. The car sped away in a squeal of rubber.
    Roman ran out into the lane but the Mercedes had already turned the corner on its way down toward the parking garage exit. He couldn’t see a plate number.
    He retrieved his crushed briefcase from where he had been standing when the Mercedes came after him.
    First, the warehouse fire in Germany, then the bullet in the dell, and now this. He had no known enemies other than his competitors. It was time to run a check on the Garamondes.
    With his jacket torn and his elbow scraped raw where he’d landed on it, he took the elevator to the penthouse suite. He began what turned out to be a harrowing day with the authorities for him and the two unfortunate owners of the parked cars, both of which were totaled.

Chapter 9
    North Yorkshire, England – March 1988
    “It is good you have come.”
    Amelie turned at the soft French and squinted up at the woman. She was standing directly behind Amelie but the sun was just at the right angle to obscure her face. Auburn locks waved in the breeze.
    She shaded her eyes with a hand, to no avail. “ Bonjour . I am sorry, but I don’t know your name.” She waited, firming her lip in growing impatience in the silence. There was something that bothered her about this French maid, who did not act as a maid should.
    She stood up clutching her sketch of Zeus with the stone bench between them. She still could not see the woman’s features clearly. The sun appeared even brighter than before so that she could not look directly at the woman. “Do you live here? With Roman?”
    “This is my home.”
    “I see.”
    Bells tinkled on the breeze.
    Amelie turned back toward the statue of Zeus. Below the gardens, near the River Wharfe, two white horses galloped.
    “They are beautiful,” she whispered.
    “It is almost time.”
    “Time for what?” She could not take her eyes off the Arabians. She’d never seen anything so beautiful. Bells hung from their tassels as they sped by in