The antique weapons of gold and silver, their handles and bodies inlaid with jewels, were of considerable value, surely worth millions on the black market, but they were only the tip of an iceberg of wealth. An $80 million Monet hanging in plain sight, a storage room filled with artwork worthy of the finest museums-it was all passed over in favor of whatever lay in this empty Harris safe.

And while it may have been diamonds, Nick suspected it was something far greater, something that even Julia was unaware of, something that Shamus Hennicot chose to hide away in this lower-level, vaultlike museum, within this secret room behind secret walls within a four-foot steel safe.

“HEY,” MARCUS SAID as he opened his front door. He was dressed in his gray pin-striped suit, the pants perfectly creased, his shirt starched and unwrinkled, his blue Hermès tie straight and true.

“Coming to ask for a cup of sugar, or would you like some electricity?” The sound of a motor droned in the background. “I told you to install a generator.”

“I need your help,” Nick said as he walked through the door into the large marble foyer.

“Well, at least you’re finally admitting it,” Marcus said with a little smile.

“Do you have any contacts who can run a license plate?”

“Martin Scars over at DMV.” Marcus grew serious, seeing Nick was not in a playful mood. “He was always good for helping me out. My legal department’s pretty tight with him. What’s up? You get another ticket?”

Nick shook his head no, not entertaining the joke.

Marcus led the way into his library, taking a seat in one of the wingback chairs across from his desk. Nick sat in the matching one across from him.

A sadness washed over Marcus’s face as he sat back.

“You look beat up; you okay?” Nick asked.

“I just got off the phone a little while ago with my office. You’re not going to believe this. You know the guy I hired six months ago, Jason Cereta, he came to a Ranger game in March with us?” Marcus paused a moment, shaking his head. “He was on Flight 502.”

“I’m sorry,” Nick said.

“Young guy, two kids. Babies having babies. He was going up to Boston to check out another company to buy. Now he’s dead. I feel like I sent him to his death.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You couldn’t know what was going to happen.”

“Yeah, is it? He was going to Boston to meet the owner of Halix Ski Company. I had mentioned to Jason that I’ve loved their skis since I was a kid and how much I would love to own them. Such a solid company would be a great investment, and it would be fun to test out their products-and their cute spokesmodels. He was a good kid, thought he was doing something that would make me happy while advancing his career.” Marcus paused. “May he rest in peace.”

“My condolences. But don’t be blaming yourself.”

“If someone went on a journey to make you money and died in the act, how would you feel?” Marcus said, angry at himself.

“Julia was supposed to be on that flight,” Nick said.

“You’ve got be kidding me,” Marcus said in shock, his tone shifting to compassion. “Why didn’t she get on?”

“She did.”

Marcus just stared.

“But she got off right before they left.” Nick still couldn’t get over the irony. “One of her clients was robbed. She got off to deal with it,” Nick said.

“That’s unbelievable.”

“That’s why I’m here.” Nick paused. “She got off the plane only to be murdered.”

Marcus sat up in shock.

“The robbery, the people who did it killed her.”

Marcus ran his hands over his balding head, his eyes lost, filled with shock. “Oh, Nick,” Marcus leaned forward in sympathy.

Nick held up his hand, stopping Marcus’s emotions. “Do you trust me?”

“What?” Marcus said in confusion.

“Do you trust me?”

“Do you even need to ask? What the hell is going on?”

“If I was to tell you a fantastic story, one that no one else on this earth would believe, something that defies all reason, would you still believe me?”

“If you’re trying to put one over on me-”

“If it was the key to saving Julia’s life?”

Marcus grew serious.

Nick reached into his pocket, pulled out the watch. He flipped opened the gold top, its silver interior refracting the light about the room, and handed it to Marcus.

“Fugit inreparabile tempus.” Marcus read the inscription on the inside of the watch. “Irretrievable time is flying. From the Roman poet Virgil. It’s where the phrase ‘tempus fugit’ comes from.”

Nick pulled out the letter, opened it, and handed it to Marcus. Marcus laid the watch on his desk, leaned back in his chair, and began to read.

He read it through twice before looking up.

The moment held silent as they looked at each other.

“Julia will be killed at 6:42 this evening.” Nick fought to hold back his emotions. “The only way I can save her is to find the man who did it and stop him.”

Marcus sat there in total shock, watching his friend’s nervous breakdown.

Nick pulled out his cell phone, opened it, and pulled up the picture of Julia dead on the floor. He had regretted taking it, thinking of it as a violation of her dignity, of her soul. It felt as if he was pulling the trigger of the murder weapon, but he also knew it would be the easiest way to convince Marcus. He averted his eyes as he passed the phone to his friend.

Marcus looked at the picture, unaware of what he was seeing…

And then realized exactly what he was looking at. “What the hell?”

Nick said nothing.

Marcus looked more closely at the picture, grief and nausea overcoming him in seconds. His breathing quickened, seeing what was left of Julia’s face filling the screen of the cell phone.

“What have you done?” Marcus exploded at Nick.

Nick said nothing, his own eyes filled with heartache.

Without thought, Marcus charged out of the room, tore open the front door of his house, and ran across the open expanse of lawn as fast as he could toward Nick’s house.

But he suddenly stopped in his tracks, coming to a standstill so abruptly he almost fell over.

“You always go for a run in a suit there, Marcus,” Julia called out, her blond hair caught in a summer breeze.

She was standing in her driveway, the rear door of her black Lexus open, pulling out a canvas bag.

Marcus leaned forward, hands on his knees, panting hard as he caught his breath, not comprehending what he was seeing.

“Julia,” he said through heaving breaths. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Julia said with a laugh. She put down her bag and walked toward Marcus. “Are you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“Nick said…”

“He’s with you?” Julia looked toward Marcus’s house. “He rushed out of here so quickly, is he scaring you?”

Marcus stood up as Julia arrived at his side. He looked at her as if he were seeing a ghost. The image on Nick’s phone was so disturbing, so real, that as he looked upon her now, the memory of it chilled his spine despite the eighty-eight-degree temperature.

“You look like shit, Marcus.” Julia said half in jest. “Can I get you anything?”

Marcus shook his head.

“Okay, then can you please explain why you were running over here so quickly?”

“It’s…” Marcus was at a loss for words, unable to speak of what he had just seen on the cell phone screen two minutes earlier.

“You heard about my near death?”

Marcus was in shock, confused about what she was referring to.

“I still can’t get over all of those people… dead. The plane just falling out of the sky.” Melancholy filled her voice. “I’m so lucky to be alive. I’m tasting every breath, I’ll never take life for granted again. It makes you believe in fate, Marcus. I almost died today.”

MARCUS STEPPED BACK into his library looking as if he had just been punched in the gut. He stood there a moment, trying to regain his composure.