She would be at the villa in Sardinia. But this time she would not be alone. The police would be there to protect her.
When the ferryboat landed in Olbia, Elizabeth found that it would not be necessary to go to the police. They were waiting for her in the person of Bruno Campagna, the detective she had met with Chief of Police Ferraro. It had been Campagna who had taken her to look at the Jeep following the accident. The detective hurried over to Elizabeth’s car and said, “We were beginning to get very worried about you, Mrs. Williams.”
Elizabeth looked at him, surprised.
“We received a call from the Swiss police,” Campagna explained, “asking us to keep an eye out for you. We’ve been covering all the boats and airports.”
Elizabeth was filled with a feeling of gratitude. Max Hornung! He had gotten her message. Detective Campagna looked at her tired, drawn face. “Would you like me to drive?”
“Please,” Elizabeth said gratefully.
She slid over to the passenger seat, and the tall detective got behind the wheel. “Where would you rather wait—the police station or your villa?”
“The villa, if someone could stay with me. I’d—I’d rather not be there alone.”
Campagna nodded reassuringly. “Don’t worry. We have orders to keep you well guarded. I’ll stay there with you tonight, and we’ll have a radio car stationed at the driveway leading to your place. No one will be able to get near you.”
His confidence was enough to let Elizabeth relax. Detective Campagna drove swiftly and expertly, winding through the little streets of Olbia, heading up the mountain road that led to the Costa Smeralda. Every place they passed reminded her of Rhys.
Elizabeth asked, “Has there been any—any news of my husband?”
Detective Campagna gave her a quick, compassionate glance, then turned his eyes back to the road. “He’s on the run, but he won’t get far. They expect to have him in custody by morning.”
Elizabeth knew that she should feel a sense of relief, and instead the words brought a terrible, aching pain. It was Rhys they were talking about, Rhys who was being hunted like some animal. He had placed her in this terrible nightmare, and now he was caught up in his own nightmare, fighting for his life, as he had made her fight for hers. And how she had trusted him! How she had believed in his kindness and his gentleness and his love! She shuddered. Detective Campagna asked her, “Are you cold?”
“No. I’m fine.” She felt feverish. A warm wind seemed to be whistling through the car, setting her nerves on edge. At first she thought it was her imagination until Detective Campagna said, “I’m afraid we’re in for a scirocco. It’s going to be a busy night.”
Elizabeth understood what he meant. The scirocco could drive people and animals crazy. The wind blew in from the Sahara, hot and dry and grainy with sand, with a macabre keening sound that had an eerie, unbalancing effect on the nerves. The crime rate always went up during a scirocco, and the judges treated criminals leniently.
An hour later, out of the dark, the villa loomed ahead of them. Detective Campagna turned into the driveway, drove into the empty carport and turned off the engine. He walked around to the side of the car and opened Elizabeth’s door. “I’d like you to stay right behind me, Mrs. Williams,” he said. “Just in case.”
“All right,” Elizabeth replied.
They moved toward the front door of the darkened villa. Detective Campagna said, “I’m sure he’s not here but we won’t take any chances. May I have your key?”
Elizabeth handed him the key. He gently edged her to one side of the door, inserted the key and opened the door, his other hand hovering near his gun. He reached inside and flicked on the light switch, and the hallway was suddenly flooded with brilliant light.
“I’d like you to show me the house,” Detective Campagna said. “Make sure we cover every room. Okay?”
“Yes.”
They started walking through the house, and everywhere they went the huge detective turned the lights on. He looked in all the closets and corners and checked to make sure the windows and doors were locked. There was no one else in the house. When they returned to the living room downstairs, Detective Campagna said, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to call headquarters.”