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a way,” Ryan admitted, then decided he should come right out with it rather than dancing around the issue. Surely his time in here would be limited. “Sir, I believe Nina Caruso’s life is in danger. The person who ignited that fire did so in the bedroom adjacent to the bathroom where she was hiding. She would have died if we had not been able to break the window frame. Even then we could not have gotten her out if she were not so slender. You should send her home before something worse happens.”

      The king sat forward over his desk, his fingers clasped together, his full attention on Ryan. “Perhaps she misjudged the size of the window she would need to exit. The fire might have been set by her to deflect suspicion.”

      Ryan almost rolled his eyes. “Your Majesty, surely you don’t think she put herself in such danger! We know for sure she wasn’t in the country when the murder took place. And I’ve found no reason at all to think she had anything to do with arranging Desmond’s death.”

      “We must consider that through her mother, she probably has contacts in Montebello, providing her with the opportunity to secure an accomplice. Perhaps the person she hired is attempting to get rid of her. That accomplice might see her as a threat now that she is here,” the king pointed out. He narrowed his eyes at Ryan. “Also, I am not discounting her father’s relatives in Italy. Family ties are strong in both places. Desmond might have shared the Caruso name, and ultimately the inheritance, but he did not share the blood. She might well have asked help of them.”

      Ryan almost scoffed. “That’s a stretch, don’t you think, sir? There’s no indication she had any motive to have her half brother killed. What could she possibly gain by it?”

      “The insurance policy purchased by her father on Desmond’s life when the children were young. The trust fund he left has continued to pay those premiums. You know of this. True, it does not represent a fortune of any magnitude, but in addition, there is also the half of her father’s estate that Desmond inherited, even though he was the adopted child and she, the natural one. That caused resentment, surely.”

      Ryan shook his head. “I wouldn’t think either motive strong enough to warrant a solicitation of murder.”

      “It is your task to discover whether that is so,” King Marcus reminded him with an inclination of the royal head. “She comes here without invitation, immediately, insisting that she be allowed full access to the details of the investigation. She was never officially notified, you know. Is that not suspicious to you?”

      Yes. It was definitely suspicious. “I think the murderer called her for the express purpose of getting her to Montebello. Why, I don’t know yet, but last night’s close call is enough to make a rough guess. Somebody wants her dead.”

      “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

      “She’s loyal to her brother. That’s why she came,” Ryan explained, wondering why in the world he was arguing with the king over a woman he hardly knew. “I would demand justice if I were in her place. Wouldn’t most people?”

      “Perhaps. It may very well be that you are correct in believing her innocent. I but play the devil’s advocate. Keep an open mind and do the task assigned you. Arrest her if you find any evidence of conspiracy. If indeed, she is innocent, then no harm is done by your industriousness.”

      Not what Ryan had in mind. “You have hired me to solve your nephew’s murder, Your Majesty. She’s making that extremely difficult. Not overtly, of course. But she’s… bothersome.”

      “What an interesting word,” the king said, looking faintly amused. “Not one to sit idly by while you complete this mission, is she?” he asked.

      “No, sir, she is not,” Ryan admitted. An understatement.

      “You must ask yourself why that is so. Will your protectiveness toward this woman blind you to the possibility of her guilt?”

      “Absolutely not,” Ryan assured him truthfully. “I will be thorough. Depend on it.”

      King Marcus smiled and nodded once. “If I did not believe that, another would take your place.”

      Ryan knew the best he could do now was reiterate his reason for the audience and get the hell out. “Sir, I do sincerely believe it would be best if you order her to return to the States until this case is cleared.”

      King Marcus sighed and sat back. “I am not inclined to do so until you discover for certain whether she is somehow involved or clear her completely. Extradition would prove a delicate, if not impossible matter if you later find evidence she is guilty. As you know, her precipitous arrival troubles me.” He met Ryan’s eyes. “And you cannot know for certain whether or not she set the fire last evening.”

      Ryan was already shaking his head. “No. She had no scent of any accelerant on her hands. No way she could have washed it off. All the soap had been removed from the bathroom by Forensics. The water was turned off.”

      “The report indicates petrol was used,” the king said.

      “Well then, she could not possibly have done it. She had no time to acquire any between the time we parted company and the time I rescued her.”

      “She could have siphoned it from one of the autos in the car park. A quick and simple procedure, is it not?”

      “In what? No container was found. No hose,” Ryan argued.

      “But they were found. Melted globs of plastic, of course. A copy of this report has been sent to your office from the fire inspector.”

      Ryan ran a hand over his face as he processed that and tried to think of anything else that might exonerate her. “She was searched as she came in. Braca questioned the guard on duty.”

      “And she lied to that guard. An accomplice could have provided what she needed, or the petrol itself. It would be relatively simple for someone to enter the grounds as a tourist and remain behind after the gates are closed to the public.”

      “I assume that is being remedied, sir?”

      “I thought it already had been remedied, given the recent murder,” the king admitted.

      Someone’s head would roll in security, Ryan thought as the king continued. “You are intrigued by this woman. Understandable, but you must not allow—”

      “That is not a factor here,” Ryan insisted with a sweep of one hand for emphasis. “You know it isn’t!… sir.”

      The king remained silent, his expression inscrutable.

      Ryan paced for a minute, searching his mind for something irrefutable to validate Nina’s innocence. “There are the surveillance cameras. As soon as we’re able to—”

      “Recovered within the past hour. Ruined.”

      Ryan absorbed the kick of disappointment and went on. “Look, she even found what might be a clue last night before the fire took place, a piece of jewelry. Apparently it was missed in the initial sweep for evidence.”

      The king nodded sagely, stretching out his long arms, his palms flattened on top of the enormous hand-carved desk. “An earring, one that could quite conceivably belong to her. Interesting that you missed such a thing, is it not?”

      “How did you know about it?” Ryan demanded. But he wasn’t all that surprised. “Franz Koenig,” he guessed.

      It ticked him off that the king would think it necessary to recruit a spy from the team. Of course, it was entirely possible someone here had called within the last hour and asked for an update on the forensics. Lorenzo, probably. Franz would be duty-bound to give it. That scenario was much more believable than Franz as a spy, Ryan decided.

      “You must not be upset that we insist upon keeping informed.”

      The royal we? A not-so-subtle reminder of who was boss here. Ryan shrugged and smiled. “Not upset, Your Majesty. It’s just that I came to tell you myself and Franz stole

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