I tipped my glass to the Professor and his wife, then sipped sweet slivers of icy-cold, frozen lemon liqueur down my throat. Maybe it was the heat or the alcohol, but I don’t recall tasting anything so ice-chilling delicious on a hot day. And potent. I could feel the buzz before I put my drink down.

“Good, no?” Greta placed her hand to her throat, her meaty fingers gently massaging a gold pendant necklace around her neck.

“Umm…yes. Very.” However, it wasn’t the drink alone that had my attention, but the gold pendant around Greta’s neck. “That’s a beautiful necklace. May I ask where you got it?”

“My Horst, he buys for me for our anniversary. Here. Up by the Abbey.” Greta lifted the pendant from her neck with her thumb and index finger so I could see it better. “Twenty-five years today.”

“Congratulations.” The necklace was stunning and looked exactly like the silver pendant the shopkeeper had shown me earlier, only in gold.

Greta patted her husband’s wrist. “He is a good man. I think I keep him, maybe for another twenty-five.”

We all laughed.

The Professor smiled and wiped his lips with a napkin. “And if it were real, Meine Liebe, you would keep me another twenty-five lifetimes.” Then, kissing his wife’s hand, he added. “Ms. Lawson, are you familiar with Roman coins?”

“No, not at all,” I wasn’t about to tell the professor I had a pretty good idea where the necklace had come from or that less than ten minutes ago, I had met with the same shopkeeper who had told me he had sold the gold pendant necklace to a collector who had bought the shopkeeper’s remaining inventory of old coins. I was more curious about what the professor might say and feigned ignorance.

“This necklace, while very nice, is nothing more than a high-priced piece of costume jewelry. A copy of the EID MAR or The Ides of March Coin, also known as The Brutus Coin. It’s very rare and impossibly expensive. But…if it makes my wife happy, why not? Once she knew about the coin, she had to have it.”

Professor Braun explained he was a retired history professor from the University of Munich. “My specialty was the ancient world. When I retired, Greta and I bought a suite aboard the Athena, and I’ve made it our business to visit this area as often as possible. I find it fascinating. My favorite part of the world. In fact, we’re here now because I’ve convinced our board of directors to retrace the old Silk Road from Western Europe to North Africa across the Mediterranean.”

“You’re the reason Athena’s doing an Amalfi Coast Tour?”

“I am. Our board meets every year, and we decide where we’d like to sail. It’s all mapped out in advance. Unfortunately, we’ve had to change our itinerary slightly since we got a late start out of Naples, and we’ll be spending an extra day here in the Poet Islands, but they’re all so rich with history, it really doesn’t matter. If you’re interested, I’m lecturing tonight in the theater. Come by, and I can explain more about the area and share our findings. Eight p.m.”

We visited for another half hour before the Professor said he had to excuse himself and snapped his fingers for the waiter to return with the bill. Then, reaching beneath the table, he picked up a black backpack, like my own, but with a yellow tag attached. “Would you like a ride back to the ship?”

“No thanks, I have more sightseeing to do. But thank you for the invitation to tonight’s lecture. I’ll be there.”

I waited at the table while Professor Braun paid the bill, then hailed a taxi. The arriving car, if one could even call it that, was impossibly small, nothing more than an open-topped, motorized tricycle. Big enough to whiz through Procida’s narrow streets with a driver and a single passenger with ease, but with two people the size of the Professor and his wife and their overstuffed backpack, I feared one bump, and they’d pop out like Pillsbury Doughboys.

But the Professor and his wife appeared not to be concerned and stuffed themselves onto the small trike-like backseat with the Professor holding tight to the outside seat rail and Greta on him. I waved goodbye and watched as the trike-bike turned on two wheels and sped away.

I had a lot to think about as I returned to the ship. Was the gold coin I had found hidden inside Dede’s bag a copy, like that around Greta’s neck? Or was it real? And if it were, just what was I supposed to do with it? And on top of that, just how could a retired history professor and his wife afford a luxury cabin aboard Athena? There had to be a logical explanation. Greta may have come from money. She had a very old-world, aristocratic look to her. But the idea that the Professor had visited the same small shop where I had been early that morning and bought the old shopkeeper’s remaining coins had me wondering if Professor Braun was somehow tied to the Brutus coin I had seen in Dede’s bag?

I hurried back to the dock. I wanted to return to my room as quickly as possible, take the coin I had put back inside Dede’s bag, and hide it inside my room safe. Any other time, I would have called Sophie, my editor and FBI handler. I wanted to tell her about the four-million-dollar Brutus coin, Dede’s disappearance, the drowning of Athena’s previous Captain, and my suspicion regarding the Professor and his backpack full of antique coins. But this was to be a pleasure cruise, a reward for my earlier assignments, and like me, Sophie was on vacation. I was on my own. I couldn’t go to the police. I had no proof Dede might have drowned or if the coin I had found hidden in her bag was authentic. All I knew was that I had stumbled into a situation and feared I was beginning to know things I shouldn’t and didn’t dare tell anyone.

Chapter Eight

“Yoo-hoo! Kat. Ms. Lawson. Up here.” The Churchill sisters hugged each other and waved enthusiastically, like I was some arriving dignitary they couldn’t wait to meet. “Might we see you for a moment? Meet us in the lobby. It’s most urgent.”

Curious about what might be urgent, I immediately went from the Marina portal, where I entered the ship and took the elevator to the Promenade Lobby. There, standing beneath the Athena statue, were the Churchill sisters. Irene, the taller of the two, had her hand to her mouth and had stooped to whisper in her sister’s ear. Upon seeing me, she dropped her hand, and the two toddled toward me.

“We’re so glad you’re back on board.” Ida took my arm, linking it through her own, and pulled me aside. “We’ve news.”

I had no doubt the urgent matter the sisters wanted to discuss was Dede, but what could these two amateur sleuths have discovered that I didn’t already know and dare not say?

“What’s happened?”

Ida continued. “Well, after you left our tea yesterday, it occurred to us we might be able to find proof that Dede was missing—”

“And,” Irene interrupted. “We decided to call Dede’s cell phone, but—”

“She didn’t answer.” Ida finished her sister’s sentence, patting my hand as she spoke.

“And you think that means what?” I asked. I had a vision of Dede’s cell phone in the bottom of her bag ringing aimlessly inside my cabin.

“Well, what else could it mean? If Dede had been able to answer, she would have picked up. She’s obviously in trouble. Don’t you think?” Irene sounded miffed.

I didn’t know what to think, only that I didn’t want to let on that I was concerned Dede Drummerhausen might have come to an unsavory end. But still, I clung to the hope that she could have left the ship voluntarily.

“Explain something to me. Captain Byard and Chief Sully don’t seem terribly concerned Dede might be missing. In fact, when I spoke with them about it, they appeared to be satisfied Dede had departed as expected Sunday morning.”

“Of course, they would.” Ida clenched her jaw. “Captain Byard and the Chief think we’re nothing but a couple of crazy old loons. I’m sure they told you as much.”

I squelched a smile. No need to go down that road.

“But they must have seen Dede’s name on some manifest when she went ashore. Surely there’s a record of her leaving?”

“That’s just it.” Ida shook a finger at me. “There’s not.”

“Why not?” I couldn’t imagine there wasn’t an accounting somewhere, but when I came aboard, only Finn met me, and he hadn’t asked for my I.D.

“If this were a tourist ship, there would be all kinds of protocols. But Athena isn’t a cruise ship. We’re a permanent residence, and we operate like a commercial vessel. The residents and crew are all covered by the ship’s manifest, and when we’re in port and want to leave, all we do is flash our shipboard I.D.” Irene dangled her lanyard with her picture I.D. in front of me. “With this, we can come and go as we like.”

“I see. So, once the gangway was in place, Dede could have walked off—”

“Or,” Ida jutted in again, “she was pushed overboard the night before.”

“But who would do such a thing, and for what reason?” I could think of a four-million-dollar reason if the coin hidden in the bottom of Dede’s bag was authentic. The coin may have cost Dede her life, and if I weren’t careful and said too much, it might very well cost me my own life as well.

“We’ve no idea. But don’t take our word for it. Join us for dinner tonight. Irene and I are dining with Monsieur Inspector Garnier. He’s a retired private investigator and very respected.”

“And his wife, of course. You mustn’t forget Camile, Ida.”

“How could I forget Camile? Poor thing, she’s skinny as a rail. Speedwalks every morning on the Promenade Deck. You may have seen her around. Wears her hair in a bun so tight her brows arch like a draw bridge.” Ida drew her brows back with her hands. “Like this. Can you imagine?”

“The aerialist,” I said. “Yes, I saw her last night. Captain Byard gave me a tour of the ship. She was working out on the rings above the pool.”

Irene took her sister’s hands from her brow. “You’ll have to forgive my sister. She tends to be a bit dramatic. But I’m sure, aside from the fact the woman eats like a bird, you’ll enjoy meeting them. They’re a lovely couple. Very friendly for Parisians. Please join us. We’ve made reservations at Romano’s. Eight p.m.”

Chapter Nine

Ispotted Marco in the hallway as I returned to my cabin. Fortunately, the sun had yet to set, and Athena’s resident sleepwalking kleptomaniac was very much awake and fully dressed. He nodded politely and tapped the top of his yachtsman’s hat as we passed. I wished him a happy birthday, not wanting to be rude, and then hurried toward the cabin door with my keys.

Once inside, I checked to see if Dede’s bag was still behind the door. I had an uneasy feeling Marco had been lurking in the hallway and that I had interrupted an attempted theft. Relieved to see the bag where I had left it on top of the entry table, I picked it up and immediately felt for the coin. Feeling it solidly within the lining, I took the bag to the dining table, where I emptied it, placing Dede’s wallet and phone on the table. Then, I reached inside, felt for the hole in the lining where I had reinserted the small plastic bag with a coin inside, and pulled them out.

The coin was smaller and thicker than the flashy EID MAR gold pendant Greta wore around her neck. It looked worn and rubbed with age. Not at all like some highly polished souvenir charm Dede might have stuffed into her bag for good luck.