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He slowly opens the door. The lights are on, television left on. If this mutt watched his TV while waiting to take out O’Leary, he’s gonna go medieval on him.
O’Leary listens. It’s quiet.
Then there’s a loud noise. The front door bursting open.
It’s Gina. What in the—
He sprints over, shields her with his body. “You need to get back to the car, it’s not—”
It’s then he sees it in her face. White-hot panic.
“What is it?”
“I texted Nate’s mom to see if she could keep Anthony for tonight.”
O’Leary doesn’t understand.
“She said Anthony told them he needed to miss karate tonight.”
An icy finger races up O’Leary’s spine. Without saying a word, he vaults up the stairs, two at a time.
Anthony’s door is locked. O’Leary bangs on the door. When there’s no answer, he shoulders it until the jamb splinters away and the door cracks open.
“No. Please, God. No!”
22
MONTEPULCIANO, ITALY
They leave the B and B at 7:45 a.m. and arrive at Arezzo train station about an hour later. Ryan jumps out and starts unloading everyone’s bags from the back of the van. The station is a squat building in a dreary part of town. He’s got about an hour to make it to the meeting with The Monster and he’s trying to hold it together. He lied to his friends and said he’s got to return the van to the rental company and will meet them on the platform.
As his classmates meander inside the station, Nora doubles back. “I told you, I’m coming,” she says.
“We talked about this. It’s not a good idea.”
“Oh, that’s not a good idea.”
“Seriously, Nora. I can’t put you in that situation.”
“You’re confused,” she says.
He shakes his head, not understanding.
“That you have any control over what I do. Now, let’s go before I call your parents and tell them what’s going on.”
At quarter to ten, they’re walking through the archway that leads into the medieval village. A smattering of tourists ambles about with backpacks, water bottles, and dumb wicker hats they’d only dare wear on vacation.
The narrow road soon opens up to the town square, which is bathed in sunlight. Ryan looks around. There’s no sight of the man.
This is crazy. He’s about to meet with The Monster, someone Ryan has long believed was a figment of his imagination. And if he is real, Nora’s right: He’s dangerous.
Ryan points to a café. The outdoor tables are filled with people having coffee or breakfast. He spies a table that’s empty and provides a nice line of sight to the Palazzo where he’s supposed to meet the man. The note said ten o’clock. He has ten minutes.
On the first day of their trip to Montepulciano, Ryan and the others climbed the narrow stairway to the top of the bell tower, which provides an amazing view all the way to Lake Trasimeno. He glances up at the terrace, the sun stinging his eyes. He doesn’t see anyone there.
“You can watch from here,” he says to Nora, directing his chin to the table.
Nora frowns but doesn’t fight him. She speaks to the host in Italian and is ushered to the table that’s not covered by an umbrella—the only reason it’s vacant. Before she sits, she hands Ryan something.