Templar's Code

CHAPTER 68

“At least I think I saw him,” Edie amended, having caught sight of a dark-haired, well-dressed blur out of the corner of her eye. “Whatever I saw, we need to get out of here!” Particularly since the cemetery was eerily deserted.

Outwardly calm, Caedmon leaned in close like a man about to whisper sweet-nothings into his lover’s ear. “Keep your voice down. We don’t want to alert our foe.”

A command easier said than done, her nerves like vibrating guitar strings. A frenzied flamenco come to life.

“I need to know where precisely you saw the bastard.”

“To my left, about fifty yards back.” Although tempted to turn and point, she didn’t.

“Do you by any chance have a mirror in your satchel?”

“Um, yeah, I think so.” Opening her shoulder bag, she hurriedly ransacked the contents. A few seconds later, she removed an old cosmetic compact. Fumbling a bit with the latch, she opened it, wordlessly passing it to him.

The mirror enabled Caedmon to scan the cemetery without turning his head. “Damn. The bastard’s too far away to identify. Although he appears to be manning the front gate. Since the cemetery is enclosed by a seven-foot-high brick wall and that gate is the only way out of here, I suspect he’s waiting for us to come to him.”

At which time Rico Suave could shoot them, stab them, or even hit them in the head with a metal pipe. And there wasn’t anything they could do to stop him.

“Admittedly, our options are limited.” Closing the compact, Caedmon returned it to her.

“God, I’m so stupid! I’ve got a cell phone. I can dial 911,” she exclaimed, riding a big Waikiki wave of relief. “One call and the cops will be here in a jiff.”

“If they show up.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

Caedmon raised a dubious brow. “What exactly do you plan on telling the police? That a lone man, who has done nothing untoward or threatening, is milling about, minding his own business. No crime in that.”

“He’s murdered two men!” Edie hissed. Being cool under pressure was one thing. Being blasé in the face of danger another matter altogether. “In this country, that’s a capital offense.”

“For which we have no proof.” Caedmon stood up. Grabbing the satchel, he wrapped his other hand around her upper arm, pulling her upright. He gave her a tight smile. “Time to put on your jolly face.”

“And this is going to help us how?”

He made no reply. Instead, he slung a companionable arm around her shoulder as he shepherded her along the crushed-stone walkway. In the complete opposite direction from the cemetery gate. While relieved to be moving away from Rico Suave, she didn’t like putting so much distance between themselves and the gate. That being the only means of escape from the bricked enclosure.

As they leisurely strolled, Edie could feel the tensed muscles in Caedmon’s arm. And though he smiled and attentively bent his head in her direction, his eyes kept darting from side to side. Plotting. Planning.

A few moments later, plan evidently hatched, he veered away from the walkway onto a dirt path that rib-boned off at a scraggly angle, the grass beaten from years of pedestrian traffic. The arm instantly dropped from her shoulder as Caedmon snatched hold of her hand, accelerating the pace as they hurried past stone crosses, carved sarcophagi, funerary urns, and tilted headstones.

“This is as good a bulwark as any,” he muttered, dodging behind a massive granite plinth surmounted by a carved memorial obelisk. “And completely out of the bastard’s line of sight.”

Edie nestled close, well aware that they were playing a potentially deadly game of hide-and-seek.

Pressed against her backside, Caedmon peered around the granite pedestal. “Perfect . . . our gatekeeper is on the move.”

He’s on the move! A garbled sound—midway between a gasp and a whimper—passed between her lips. Caedmon chastened her with a cautionary glance.

“You mean that you actually want him to follow us?” she whispered.

“How else to lure him away from the exit? Which brings me to the matter of your coat. If you would be so kind as to hand it over.”

“Why do you want my trench coat?”

“It will make the perfect capote de brega. Bullfighter’s cape,” he translated.

All thumbs, Edie clumsily untied the belt and removed her coat. Clueless as to what exactly he intended to do with the fuchsia-colored garment, she handed it to him.

The last thing she expected was Caedmon to roll it into a ball and shove it under his wool sports jacket.

“Off to set the trap.”

Edie grabbed his wrist. “Please don’t tell me this is where we go our separate ways and meet up later in Prague.”

“If all goes well, I’ll only be gone a few minutes.” A determined look on his face, Caedmon reassuringly squeezed her hand. “If the bastard shows up before I return, kick him in the cubes and scream like a banshee.”

Battle orders given, he took off running, tucking his tall frame into a low crouch as he zigzagged from monument to obelisk to tree trunk. The dark clouds overhead washed the cemetery in muted shades of gray and granite. She soon lost sight of Caedmon, inciting a barrage of graphic, gory images to flash across her mind’s eye. Worst-case scenarios.

In her peripheral vision, Edie saw a blaze of fuchsia. And though she knew it was an illusion, it appeared that someone decked out in a bright pink coat was crouched behind a tombstone.

The trap had been set.

Anxiously peering around the corner of the granite plinth, she searched for Caedmon, still unable to locate him amid the stone jumble. Just then, a large hand snaked in front of her, covering her mouth. In the next instant, she was yanked against a male torso. Completely immobilized.

“Shhh! It’s me.”

Caedmon!

Relieved, Edie slumped against his chest.

“No time to chat!” he whispered, removing his hand from her mouth. “He took the bait.”

“I don’t think so! Look over there!” She pointed to a fast-moving blur. “He’s headed this way!”

That being their cue, they sprinted toward the front gate. Their pounding footfalls made a loud crunching sound on the stone walkway. Up ahead, Edie could see that the double gate was closed.

Please, please, don’t be locked!

Caedmon charged ahead of her to the gate. With a mighty tug, he swung it wide open, metal hinges loudly squeaking. Seconds later, they charged through the opened gateway, emerging onto a city pavement teeming with tourists and office workers.

Always thinking two moves ahead, Caedmon maneuvered them into the middle of a large crowd headed in the direction of the U.S. Mint.

“I don’t know about you, but I stupidly thought Rico’s ‘sell by’ date had expired,” she wheezed, her breath noticeably uneven.

“Still very much on the shelf.” Breaking away from the crowd, Caedmon stepped off the curb and raised his right hand. “Taxi!”