“Is there anything you and everybody else on this boat doesn’t know?”

“Probably not.” Neil glanced out the open porthole. The speed boat had arrived. “You coming?”

* * *

The small green Vespa Neil had reserved was barely big enough for two people. But Neil didn’t appear concerned and took hold of the handlebars. “Hop on. This’ll be fun, you’ll see.”

I straddled the seat, put my arms around Neil’s waist, and held tight as Neil gunned the bike’s small engine, and we zipped onto the narrow street.

“We’ll start at Mortella Gardens, or as the Italians call it, Giardini La Mortella.” I was impressed with Neil’s pitch-perfect Italian accent, and as we scooted around small cars and pedestrians with their shopping bags, despite the sudden stops and bumps in the road, I started to relax. Juggling my backpack on my lap, I grabbed my camera and snapped a few photos.

“You might want to wait until we get to the gardens. The view of the bay from there is as good as it gets. You can see the ship from there, and the gardens are the most beautiful in Italy. You’ll thank me.”

As we got to the top of the mountain, the road narrowed, and Neil pointed the bike onto a smaller dirt path, plush with plant life, the colors like an artist’s palate, of green and yellow gold, all melded together with the sounds of birds, and waterfalls. I had never seen a jungle of plant life so radiant or felt the subtle abundance of color and the sunlight so soft against my skin. Neil parked the scooter, got off, and walked ahead of me to the bluff like he had been there a hundred times before.

“To your left is Ischia Porto, and over there,” Neil pointed to the Aragones Castle, “is Ischia Ponte, where you can see the Castle. It looks like it’s growing straight up from the volcanic rock.”

I snapped several pictures, including one of Athena, moored in the harbor.

“In her time, before she was destroyed by an earthquake, Ischia was a major trading port. Can you imagine it? Huge trading vessels lined up right below us in the harbor. Offloading gold and silver from what was once the splendor of the ancient world. Their precious icons shipped here to Aenaria’s smelting factory to be melted down.”

I stepped back and took another shot of Neil on the bluff. Behind him was the causeway between the port and the Castle. I wanted a picture of him for the magazine, looking down on what had once been the legendary city of Aenaria.

I lowered my camera and joined him as he looked out at a causeway below. “So, how did you find her?”

“Find who?” Neil looked at me like he didn’t know who or what I was talking about.

“Aenaria. The sunken city. You discovered her, didn’t you?” Maybe I was feeling a little overconfident, but I needed to take advantage of the opportunity to push through Neil’s barricade to not talk about himself, and if I didn’t act now when we were alone, when could I?

“What are you talking about?”

“The Professor’s lecture last night. He said it was two divers, twenty-five years ago, who discovered the mythical city. It was you, wasn’t it? You and somebody else.”

Neil shook his head and started toward the scooter.

“You okay?” I chased after him.

“You’re reading too much into the Professor’s lecture, Kat.” Neil quickened his pace.

“I don’t think so. Tell me I’m wrong, and it’s not why we’re spending an extra day in the Poet Islands? My guess is that’s why the Professor knows about Aenaria. You must have told him about it. How else would he know? And he wanted to come back when you were aboard because the Professor knew you’d want to see it again. You both wanted to visit Aenaria before she was opened to the public, and the Professor was still free to do his research. Why do you care that anyone would know it was you?”

Neil stopped. “Because I don’t want it to be about me. That’s why. I prefer it that way. I won’t deny I enjoy coming back here and diving in these waters. But like I told you before, I don’t like to talk about my private life. What I did before I bought Athena, what I do when I’m not on board, it’s nobody’s business. Whatever you write, it’s not about me. It’s about the ship. You got that?”

“Yeah, I got it.”

“Good.” Neil turned back to the bike and took hold of the Vespa’s handlebars. “It’s getting late. There’s not enough time to cross the causeway and visit Aragonese Castle. Not if you want to return to the ship in time for your massage.”

I hopped on the back of the scooter and put my arms around Neil’s waist. “We okay?”

“Long as you promise to write a nice story about Athena, we’re gold.”

“Done,” I said.

But we both knew I had hit a nerve. Whatever Neil Webster was hiding, I could tell he was anxious that I report nothing more than what he wanted me to see. And the more I saw, the more convinced I was that Neil’s presence aboard Athena had less to do with celebrating his Aunt Ida’s birthday than providing the perfect cover for a modern-day pirate ship with a group of geriatric pirates on a mission to smuggle antiques across the Mediterranean.

* * *

We arrived back at the dock with thirty minutes to spare and found a small portside restaurant with an outside table. Neil ordered an iced coffee—a caffe shakerato—for us both.

“Neil?”

From behind us, a tall, handsome, curly-haired Italian approached with a big smile.

“Antonio?” With his arms wide, Neil put his coffee down and embraced the stranger like an old friend.

The stranger put his hands on Neil’s shoulders, stood back, and stared at Neil. “I thought that was you. I saw Athena in the harbor and wondered if you might be aboard.”

Neil introduced me. His mood was near jovial in the presence of his friend.

“Kat, I’d like you to meet Antonio De Luca.” Then, grabbing Antonio’s chin and pinching his cheeks, Neil added, “But don’t let this pretty face fool you. He’s not to be trusted. Not with the ladies, for sure.”

Antonio pushed Neil’s hand away from his face. “Don’t believe a word he says. He’s just jealous. I’m a gentleman, particularly around attractive women.”

“Let me stop you right there, Pretty Boy. Kat Lawson’s a reporter. You don’t want to mess with her.”

Antonio placed his right hand over his heart and bowed his head. His dark curls fell across his light blue eyes. “My apologies to you if I appeared rude.”

“Not at all,” I said. It was easy to see why Neil liked Antonio. He was gorgeous. The embodiment of a Greek statue, with an air of confidence.

Neil stepped in between us. “Kat, I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse me. I need to catch up with Antonio. It’s been a while. Do you mind taking the tender back by yourself?”

“Not a problem.”

“But don’t forget, I invited you for dinner tonight. Seven-thirty. I’m cooking, remember?”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Chapter Fourteen

The tender dropped me at Athena’s portside with just enough time to go upstairs to Dede’s suite, change into my robe, and get down to the spa in time for my massage. When I arrived, I noticed Oleg standing by the pool. He was dressed—if one could call it that—in a red G-string Speedo and was toweling himself off. Despite his barely-there swimsuit, I hoped we could schedule a moment to talk later.

“Oleg?

Rubbing the towel against his head, the Russian approached. For a man in his mid-sixties, he was in great shape, tan, muscled, without an ounce of fat.

“Afternoon, Ms. Lawson. Had a nice morning?”

“I did, thank you. Neil gave me a quick tour of the island this morning.”