It was a fine restaurant, and the well-dressed man across the table from Annah was certainly pleasant to look at. He smiled often, and spoke quietly and soothingly -- nothing more than a business exec on the make. Annah knew him. The real man, not this grinning facade. And she knew she would be dead by morning unless she tread very carefully. "Tomorrow I must attend to business in Trieste," he said. "The bay is calm. Why should I drive when it is a beautiful night on the bay, eh?" Annah's mind analyzed six different possibilities while he spoke. He had no business in Trieste, of that she was sure. A yacht was an obvious means of killing her and disposing of the body. But one witness -- here at the restaurant, or at the port -- would put him in jeopardy. He was too careful for that. "Do you like the water?" he asked. In between heartbeats, she chose her path of action. "If it is calm, yes," she said. "Like tonight." "You would join me, then?" he asked. "Yes." She was committed. She would find discovery, or meet death, before dawn? |
