Cleopatra's Necklace (Devlin Security Force Book 3) Read Online Free PDF

got her voicemail.” The admiral’s voice faltered and he swallowed hard.
    Thomas’s breathing rasped. He massaged his nape. “Take your time, sir.”
    “I’m okay. You need to know the rest. It’s why you’re the man for the job. I wrote down Cleo’s message. ‘René is dead. Shot by some gang. He said no police. Oh, Greg, I’m scared. I don’t know what’s going on, except it’s about a necklace. I have to get away. I’ll call when I’m somewhere safe. Love you.’ ”
    ***
    Venice, Italy
    Lucas Del Rio tried to compose his features into a non-threatening smile but in his present mood, all he could manage was a grimace.
    After Thomas’s urgent call, he’d left Paris on the next plane. Arrived at the Ospedale Civile early in the evening. But for two hours they’d made him wait.
    At the hospital quay, another debarking passenger guided him to an imposing white-marble building that had been a monastery in the fifteenth century. Its façade struck him as more of a palace than a holy place for monks in brown robes. He had misgivings about the hospital as he entered between marble columns with carved scrollwork. But inside he found a modern facility.
    He’d expected to have no trouble carrying out Admiral Chandler’s request. But no, the stick-up-her ass neurosurgeon didn’t care if the father had sent his and Thomas’s names as his agents. She didn’t care if he had an e-mail to that effect. She wouldn’t have cared if His Holiness had ordered her to let him see the injured woman. Her white-jacketed haughtiness looked as if she wanted to kick him into the adjacent canal.
    “No information about Signorina Chandler’s medical condition or care, no entrance to the room, signore , until I talk to Commissario Castelli of the Venice polizia .”
    Castelli. He brightened. Here was his in.
    “Si, si, dottoressa.” He used the respectful title to demonstrate his knowledge of Italian customs. “I will also phone the detective.”
    After his phone call, he’d parked his butt on a lumpy upholstered chair in the hospital’s lobby. He endured whispers from the reception desk and, until the hour became too late for visiting, anxious looks from visiting families. Hell, a shave, dark pants and a collared shirt still didn’t render him inconspicuous. They probably thought he was mafia.
    The most he accomplished was surveillance, in case some suspicious-looking dude came looking to finish off the Chandler woman. The Centaur Task Force head honcho, an FBI agent nearly as tight-assed as the neurosurgeon, had snarled at his bugging out, so the sooner he returned, the sooner he’d help nail the Centaur leader.
    When the reception desk clerk’s bored expression morphed into sultry, he knew Bruno Castelli had arrived.
    Damn, he’d missed the sound of the door opening. He’d removed the damned hearing aid in the noisy airport and forgot about it. He checked his breast pocket for the gadget. Still there but he’d put it in later.
    “Old friend, you’re the image of guard duty. All that is missing is the uniform and a weapon.” Castelli strode from the double doors, hand outstretched.
    Lucas levered out of the deep chair and took the other man’s hand before pulling him into a bro hug. “Feels like guard duty, Castelli. I’m about to fall asleep. Good to see your ugly mug.”
    Castelli smiled at the reverse compliment. “A few years since Afghanistan and you haven’t changed. I’m surprised you’re not still in the army.”
    “Yeah, me too,” Lucas replied. “An IED booted me out on medical discharge, or I’d still be humping it. Private security’s my gig now. I’m hoping you can work your charm on the dottoressa .”
    “Guaranteed, my friend. I’ll persuade her to stop playing Cerberus and cooperate.” He strolled across the marble floor as if on the Oscars’ red carpet.
    Lucas had met Castelli when his Special Forces team coordinated with an Italian unit in an op outside Kabul. During long nights