The Florentine Cypher: Kate Benedict Paranormal Mystery #3 (The Kate Benedict Series) by Carrie Bedford Page A

ATAF bus sign. “But even in Florence, he wouldn’t need to wait this long.”
    “Do you recognize him? Is he the one who attacked Claire?”
    “No,” said Valeria. “I’d recognize that skunk if I ever saw him again.” She peered out of the window. “He seems to be watching this building. How on earth could anyone know that you are here? Do you think we were followed from the hospital?”
    I’d been keeping an eye open for any signs of pursuit but hadn’t seen anyone.
    “Don’t say anything to Claire,” suggested Valeria. “Let her be for a while. She’s worried to death about Ethan, and still in shock from the attack. I’ll bolt the front door to be sure we don’t have any unwanted visitors.”
    We sat on the sofa, waiting for Claire, who came in carrying a plate of small cakes. “I missed lunch and now I’m starving,” she said.
    For a few minutes we enjoyed the tea and snacks. I wriggled into the cushions, trying to ease a pain in my lower back. I’d noticed recently that it seized up when I was stressed.
    “What happens next?” asked Valeria.
    Claire chewed on a cake for a minute. “I’ve been thinking about going to the family house in Venice,” she said. “A great-aunt of mine bought the place in the fifties. She was working with Peggy Guggenheim on the art foundation there. Anyway, my mum inherited it and we stayed in it quite often before my parents were divorced.”
    “But why would you go there?” I asked, thinking I was missing something.
    “Mum still owns the house, but she hasn’t been to Venice for ages, so she didn’t mind Dad using it.”
    After Claire’s parents divorced, her mum had married again to a nice man called David. They lived somewhere in the north of England now, I seemed to recall.
    “Dad often stayed when he was writing a book or a story for the newspaper,” Claire continued. “He spent several days at the house just before he died.”
    I raised an eyebrow, still unsure why Claire would want to trek all the way to Venice.
    “Remember I told you my dad was doing some research on the
Della Pittura
? It’s possible that he left something at the house that might help us. It seems to me that if we can understand the significance of the key, we might be able to discover where Ethan is?”
    Her voice rose as she finished the sentence, more of a question than a statement.
    I thought her plan made sense. “How would you get to Venice?” I asked.
    “
We
,” she said. “You’re coming with me, aren’t you?”
    “I have to go to work tomorrow. My flight’s already booked for ten in the morning. I’ll keep looking for Ethan from England, I promise, and you and I can coordinate by phone.”
    Valeria and Claire put their cups down on the coffee table and stared at me. I felt like a bug pinned to a mounting board.
    “You want to help Ethan, don’t you?” Claire demanded. “I can’t do this by myself, and you’re involved whether you like it or not. Those men know who you are.”
    She had a point. I could give her the key and go home, but these people wouldn’t necessarily let me off the hook. More importantly, I wanted to find Ethan. He was my friend, and he was in danger. If I walked away and something happened to him, I’d always regret it.
    It was more than forty hours since I’d seen him outside his office and I hadn’t heard a word since. He was obviously in serious trouble. If my aura sighting had been correct, I was confident he’d still be alive. The aura had been distinct, but moving slowly. That usually meant that death was several days away at least, perhaps even longer. Of course, it had been raining, and he’d been some distance away. I’d only seen the aura for a couple of seconds.
    I looked at Claire’s aura, which looped around her head. It still moved slowly, but the fact was that it existed. And that meant her life was in danger too. I couldn’t just leave her.
    “You can take my car,” offered Valeria, as though I hadn’t said