whispered and stared at the hank of matted black hair—the only thing left of Amarug, the wolf woman.
RANSOM DEMAND
Cotten stopped in front of John's office on the way to the upper floor of
38
the Government Palace where the department of the Vatican Secretariat of State was located. She turned to the Venatori agent escorting her. "Do you mind if I just take a quick look inside?"
He hesitated. "Normally, it wouldn't be allowed, but knowing what you're probably going through right now, I don't see any harm. Just for a moment."
"Thank you." She gave him a grateful smile before pressing her palm to the dark wood of the door as if she might glean a sense of John's presence.
Cotten opened the door, stepped inside and drank in a heavy breath. She heard the door softly close behind her. Her escort had allowed her a moment of privacy. Cotten's throat pinched at the thought that something had happened to John. She fought back, thinking of all the possibilities. Her fingertips feathered over the books on his shelf, then slid across the surface of his polished desk.
She wanted to touch the things he touched, soak up whatever sense of him there was. Clutching the top of John's high-back desk chair, she closed her eyes and rested her cheek on the leather, wrapping her arms about the backrest of the chair. She envisioned his face, his eyes—those eyes—those deep-blueocean eyes. "Come home to me," she whispered. John was the only person in her life who had never asked anything of her, except to believe in herself. There had never been any man she had cared about the way she cared about this man—a man she could never have. And maybe there was safety in that.I can't lose what I never had in the first place.
The door opened. "I'm sorry, Ms. Stone, but we really have to be going."
"I know," she said, straightening and sweeping back her hair. Just before leaving she peered over her shoulder one last time.
***
Cotten sat in the reception area of the Vatican Secretariat of State's office and watched a steady parade coming and going from the diplomat's office. Most were priests, a few were laymen in suits. None looked happy.
She had arrived on a flight from New York that morning and came straight to Vatican City. Numerous calls from Ted to the Vatican had produced tentative promises of a meeting with the chief diplomat of the Holy See. Although the Church played down the news of the missing priests, it was obvious to Cotten that within the walls of the Government Palace, everyone seemed to take the situation seriously.
After half an hour of waiting, she was about to pull her cell phone from her purse and leave Ted an update message when the door from the main hallway opened and a priest entered. He wore a black suit and Roman collar, and carried a briefcase. As he passed, he glanced in her direction and they recognized one another.
"Cotten!" he said, even as she got to her feet and moved toward him.
"What a wonderful surprise."
"Your Excellency. So good to see you again." They shook hands. A feeling
39
of comfort came over her, seeing the friendly, familiar face of Archbishop Felipe Montiagro, the Vatican Apostolic Nuncio to the United States. Montiagro was the Holy See's equivalent of an ambassador and they had met years ago during what the press dubbed the Grail conspiracy and her finding of the Holy Grail.
"I would ask what brings you here," he said, "but I can guess that it's this matter of John's disappearance."
"Can I assume that's why you're here, too?"
He gestured to a couple of chairs. "Wait just one minute. Let me check in with the receptionist."
After he had signed in on the visitor's log, he sat in the chair next to Cotten. "Again, let me say how good it is to see you, but sorry it is under these circumstances. Unfortunately, I was one of the principles who helped arrange for John and Archbishop Roberti to get involved in the negotiations between the three disputing parties. So you can
RANSOM DEMAND
Cotten stopped in front of John's office on the way to the upper floor of
38
the Government Palace where the department of the Vatican Secretariat of State was located. She turned to the Venatori agent escorting her. "Do you mind if I just take a quick look inside?"
He hesitated. "Normally, it wouldn't be allowed, but knowing what you're probably going through right now, I don't see any harm. Just for a moment."
"Thank you." She gave him a grateful smile before pressing her palm to the dark wood of the door as if she might glean a sense of John's presence.
Cotten opened the door, stepped inside and drank in a heavy breath. She heard the door softly close behind her. Her escort had allowed her a moment of privacy. Cotten's throat pinched at the thought that something had happened to John. She fought back, thinking of all the possibilities. Her fingertips feathered over the books on his shelf, then slid across the surface of his polished desk.
She wanted to touch the things he touched, soak up whatever sense of him there was. Clutching the top of John's high-back desk chair, she closed her eyes and rested her cheek on the leather, wrapping her arms about the backrest of the chair. She envisioned his face, his eyes—those eyes—those deep-blueocean eyes. "Come home to me," she whispered. John was the only person in her life who had never asked anything of her, except to believe in herself. There had never been any man she had cared about the way she cared about this man—a man she could never have. And maybe there was safety in that.I can't lose what I never had in the first place.
The door opened. "I'm sorry, Ms. Stone, but we really have to be going."
"I know," she said, straightening and sweeping back her hair. Just before leaving she peered over her shoulder one last time.
***
Cotten sat in the reception area of the Vatican Secretariat of State's office and watched a steady parade coming and going from the diplomat's office. Most were priests, a few were laymen in suits. None looked happy.
She had arrived on a flight from New York that morning and came straight to Vatican City. Numerous calls from Ted to the Vatican had produced tentative promises of a meeting with the chief diplomat of the Holy See. Although the Church played down the news of the missing priests, it was obvious to Cotten that within the walls of the Government Palace, everyone seemed to take the situation seriously.
After half an hour of waiting, she was about to pull her cell phone from her purse and leave Ted an update message when the door from the main hallway opened and a priest entered. He wore a black suit and Roman collar, and carried a briefcase. As he passed, he glanced in her direction and they recognized one another.
"Cotten!" he said, even as she got to her feet and moved toward him.
"What a wonderful surprise."
"Your Excellency. So good to see you again." They shook hands. A feeling
39
of comfort came over her, seeing the friendly, familiar face of Archbishop Felipe Montiagro, the Vatican Apostolic Nuncio to the United States. Montiagro was the Holy See's equivalent of an ambassador and they had met years ago during what the press dubbed the Grail conspiracy and her finding of the Holy Grail.
"I would ask what brings you here," he said, "but I can guess that it's this matter of John's disappearance."
"Can I assume that's why you're here, too?"
He gestured to a couple of chairs. "Wait just one minute. Let me check in with the receptionist."
After he had signed in on the visitor's log, he sat in the chair next to Cotten. "Again, let me say how good it is to see you, but sorry it is under these circumstances. Unfortunately, I was one of the principles who helped arrange for John and Archbishop Roberti to get involved in the negotiations between the three disputing parties. So you can
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