“His name is Alessandro Bellini, and I can give you his address. It is near an industrial park in Naples.” Fabio frowned. “But I must warn you again. Please, if you approach this man, take care.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  At the wheel again, with Wyatt beside her, Juliette sped out of central Naples. She was on the way to the home of Alessandro Bellini, who was a supplier of helium and oversized balloons, and reportedly erratic and prone to violence.

  Just before they left the station, Juliette had instructed the police to release Fabio after Sierra had successfully confirmed, through camera footage, that he'd been in the square and selling his balloons at the time when Claudio Pitti had been taken. She'd accessed camera footage to prove it, incontestably cementing Juliette's suspicions that he was not their killer. The killer would have had to have been available on every night when a victim was taken. Fabio had been stationed at the square, selling his balloons.

  His supplier, on the other hand, was a suspect.

  "This address is on the edge of an industrial park," she said. "It looks as though he lives there, too, from what I can make out."

  She knew she’d need to get the information through to Sierra as soon as she could. Sierra had stayed behind at the police station to help coordinate things. It was easier for her to work on a machine where she could directly access the Italian police databases and their wealth of information.

  As they were driving, Juliette was noting that their surroundings were looking more and more run down. This was an unkempt, ungroomed area. Grass was growing wild alongside the road, weeds were pushing up through the gaps in the paving. And yet, even so, just a glance around confirmed that they were in Italy. A quick look to the left, and she saw rocky hills, deep green with olive trees and with small houses seemingly clinging to the steep slopes, incredibly scenic, in variegated shades of white, earth, ocher, and marigold.

  Was it possible to look at such a view and not want to spend your life in one of those little homes? Juliette doubted it.

  And to the right, far away but still discernible, she could see the distinctive blue of the Tyrrhenian Sea, with white outlines of sailboats and yachts punctuating the azure calmness.

  Seedy this area might be, but it still had Italian character aplenty. As they pulled up outside the warehouse, an ice cream seller cycled by, with a big sign on the back of his three-wheeled bicycle advertising 'Gelato.' She guessed he was en route from one of the warehouses, along the winding road that led to the coast, to spend the day there selling those delicious, sweet treats to tourists.

  It was strange how this case had made her think of everyone - balloon sellers, ice cream suppliers - with a new air of suspicion. Were they really legitimate? Or were they a killer disguised?

  Pulling outside the small warehouse, she knew it was time to find out.

  Even the warehouse itself was housed in a stone fronted building that hailed probably from a century ago. There was just no escaping history here. A battered sign that read "Bellini Helium Supplies" was displayed above the entrance.

  But, to Juliette's surprise, it didn't seem to be open. Nobody was here? Maybe they were just keeping the door firmly closed and the window blinds down to shut out the bright morning sun?

  "It looks closed to me," Wyatt muttered. "But let's go and make sure."

  Juliette nodded and got out of the car, with Wyatt following her. They approached the door, and then Juliette knocked loudly, bringing down the brass knocker firmly.

  They waited in expectant silence as the jingle of the ice cream seller's bell faded into the distance.

  Juliette knocked again and then frowned. There really did seem to be nobody here.

  "Shall we take a look around the side?" Wyatt asked.

  She nodded. This unoccupied business, closed on a weekday morning, was ringing alarm bells for her.

  "Let's take a walk and see what we can find," she agreed.

  They walked around the side of the building, and although there was another door there, firmly closed, Juliette also noticed a small, open window.

  "Alessandro Bellini? Are you here?" she called as loudly as she could. Standing on her tiptoes, she peered inside, wondering what she would see.

  But what she saw was unexpected. The room was dark, with only a few rays of sunlight filtering in through the dusty window. There was no sign of Bellini. But there was a stack of enormous helium canisters at the back of the room. It looked as if there was a massive stockpile here. There were quite a few smaller canisters, too.

  "He's got enough helium here to float a person, I'd say," she muttered to Wyatt, who was craning in the window and looking, too.

  Beyond the canisters, she could see a large truck that had presumably been used to transport these supplies here.

  She couldn't see any balloons, but that was to be expected. They weren’t sold inflated, after all. Perhaps they were stacked in the plastic packets she could see faintly on a shelf at the back.

  Suddenly, Juliette heard a grinding sound from beyond the room, and she jumped back from the window, her heart racing. She turned to Wyatt, who had drawn his gun, and nodded. They both knew the drill now. They moved cautiously towards the door, listening intently for any further sounds.

  As they approached the door, they heard the grinding sound again. It was coming from behind the door, and they could feel the vibrations in the concrete floor under their feet. But it wasn't coming from this warehouse. Now, she realized, it was coming from next door.

  "I wonder if the neighbors will know anything about where Alessandro is," Juliette thought aloud.

  "Let's go and ask them," Wyatt said.

  They headed around to the front of the building again, this time to the door on the left-hand side of Alessandro's warehouse. The grinding noise was louder than ever, as shrill as a scream. For sure, someone was in here.

  Now the only challenge would be attracting their attention.

  There was a doorbell buzzer on the side of the door. Juliette pressed it and was rewarded by an ear splitting buzzing noise from inside. A moment later, the grinding stopped. Footsteps approached the door.

  It opened, to reveal a young, dark-haired man with a handsome, if oil-streaked, face. He was wearing a dark blue coverall and welding gloves. Behind him was a compact, but neat, motor mechanic's workshop.

  "Buon giorno," he said, sounding surprised.

  "We're looking for Mr. Alessandro Bellini, from the premises next door," Juliette said, showing her badge. "It's locked up, and we were wondering if you know why, or if you've seen him recently."

  The man's expression changed instantly, from one of surprise to one of suspicion. "Are you police?" he asked.

  "FBI special law enforcement," Juliette explained.

  The man's eyes flicked from Juliette's badge to her face, and then back to Wyatt. His expression remained guarded.

  "I don't know much about him or his recent activities," the man said finally. "And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. Alessandro and I are not exactly on good terms."

  Juliette raised an eyebrow. "Is there a reason for that?" she asked.

  The man hesitated for a moment, as if debating whether to answer. Finally, he sighed. "I don't want to talk badly of him, but I have to say, I think he's mad. He is unpredictable, and very aggressive, and he seems to have been delusional. The other day he was around here, shouting and screaming at me, accusing me of breaking into his premises."

  "Was there any cause?" Juliette asked, her interest piqued.

  The mechanic shrugged. "I keep to myself and don't know why he got so mad. I know a lot of the people he supplies have started going elsewhere, as it's been quiet there."

  Juliette exchanged a glance with Wyatt. It sounded like Alessandro was starting to come apart at the seams, and it made her nervous.

  "Who would know where he is?"

  Now, Alessandro narrowed his eyes.

  "I don’t know, but you’re not the only one looking for him."

  "What do you mean?" Wyatt pressed.

  "I don't know if this will help you, but I saw the police here, at his place, when I arrived. Two policemen were walking around this building and talking on walkie-talkies. I don't know what they were hoping to find. But I guess they were looking for him, too."

  Juliette exchanged another glance with Wyatt. Alessandro was already wanted by the police?

  There was only one reason that she could think of for him not being at his business premises today, and that was if he knew he was a wanted man, and he was on the run.

  Now, they had to find him - and fast.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Juliette rushed back to the car. She had resources and needed to use them as fast as she could to find this man’s whereabouts. Before she’d even gotten inside the car, she dialed Sierra’s number.

  "Alessandro Bellini. We need to track him," she told Sierra as soon as she picked up. “I’m sending you the details that I have on him. I’m sure there will be more in the police database, or even on his business website. A phone number is what we need now.”

  "I'm going to check his phone number and get back to you on that," Sierra said. Juliette heard the frantic tapping of keys as she began her work. Quickly, she messaged through all the information she had on this new suspect.

  Now feeling the pressure intensifying, she picked up the phone and called Dario. While Sierra worked on getting as much information as possible on this suspect, Juliette needed to find out why the police had been looking for him.

  "Morning, Dario," she said as soon as he picked up. "I believe that two policemen were outside the premises of Alessandro Bellini this morning. Can you tell me why? Also, is there any information on where he is now?" She asked the question in English, hoping Dario would reply in English so that Wyatt could also be briefed.

  She waited anxiously for him to look up the details.

  "I am looking at the report here, and if he is the suspect you are seeking, this is not good news," Dario said.

  “Why’s that?” Juliette asked.

  "Signor Bellini was involved in trouble last night, outside a local nightclub. People called the police to arrest him but by the time they reached the nightclub, he'd broken free from the bouncer who was holding him, and disappeared."

  "What trouble was he involved in?" Juliette asked Dario, hoping that Sierra was using all tech resources at her disposal to get answers on Bellini's location, fast.

  "It says here that he was found at two a.m. outside a nightclub, acting suspiciously and lurking around. Two women complained he was following them to their car. He was in possession of a hammer and a length of thin rope. When the bouncer asked him why he had those items, he became very aggressive."

  "Seriously? That is bad news." She made a face at Wyatt, who shook his head in consternation.

  Could anything be more incriminating that that, she wondered, feeling stunned by the parallels that were appearing here. Thin rope? And a hammer? Had he been trying to grab a fourth victim?

  He would have had access to the helium. This case felt like it was accelerating quickly to a probable conclusion.

  Now, they just needed to find him, as fast as possible. Thanking Dario, she quickly hung up, because Sierra was calling back, and Juliette hoped it would be with the information they needed.

  “You find anything?” she asked.

  "He seems to have two cellphone numbers," Sierra said excitedly. "I guess one's his personal number and one’s business? At any rate, I'm finding two linked to his name. One's turned off, but the other one's active. And the location is on the coastal road, the one that runs from Naples out to Amalfi."

  Immediately, Juliette started the car and pulled onto the road. She knew which direction they needed to be moving in. Now, speed was the biggest priority. They had to catch up with him.

  "You mean the A3? The highway?" Wyatt asked, glancing at the map he was calling up.

  "No, not that one," Sierra explained. "The actual coastal road. It's right on the shoreline, just about, and much smaller. He's headed along there."

  With her lips pressed together, Juliette veered away from the highway signs, and instead, headed to the main road that would lead all the way out to the smaller road that ran alongside the ocean. Almost immediately she could see this road would be a problem. It was full of vacationers, dawdling along, slowing down to capture the panoramic views of the azure sea on this cloudless morning and the tiny, jewel-like houses that clung to the hills that rose dramatically on the opposite side.

  Picturesque as this might be, it was not an environment where it would be easy to give chase. She didn't even know if it was possible. But there were so many turnoffs and side roads that she couldn't risk veering back onto the A3 to get ahead of him. He could take a turnoff at any time. For all she knew, he even had a boat moored somewhere. There were plenty out on the sea, providing yet another scenic focal point.

  What a pity there was no time to enjoy this spectacular view because they were chasing down their strongest suspect yet.

  "Do we have a description for his car?" she asked Wyatt, who immediately called Sierra back to ask her that question.

  "I can't find one. I'm going to call Dario and ask if there are any other databases that might have information. The only vehicle registered in his name is a big truck," she said, sounding worried.

  That would be the truck they’d seen in the warehouse, and it had been parked. He wasn't in there. He was somewhere out here. But where?

  She pressed down on the accelerator, weaving in and out of the slow-moving traffic, constantly checking the GPS and her maps to make sure they were on the right track.

  "No other car in his name, so he must be in a borrowed one," Sierra said. "Or a cab, maybe?"

  As they drove, the scenery around them began to change. The houses on the hillside became fewer and farther between, replaced by rocky cliffs and the occasional small, picturesque beach. The road narrowed, and the traffic thinned out.

  "We're getting close," Sierra said, and Juliette imagined her with her eyes glued to her laptop, giving them these real-time updates on the fleeing man. "He's still moving along the coastal road, but he's slowed down a bit."

  Juliette tried to curb her impatience. They were so close. Perhaps their weaving ride, in and out of the slow vacation traffic, would get them the results they needed in the end.

  "He's only a mile ahead now!" Sierra said, sounding excited. They were getting close at last. That was the good news. The bad news was that the further away from Naples they drove, the more treacherous the coastal road was becoming. Winding curves and sharp turns were making it impossible to drive at high speed.

  “You might have him in view now,” Sierra shouted into the phone, her voice squeaky with excitement. And then, ahead, Juliette saw a vehicle.

  It wasn't a car. It was a small moped, buzzing along the coastal road, its tiny engine screaming.

  "That's him!" she exclaimed, pointing to the moped. She flattened her foot, speeding now, weaving past a cyclist who was wobbling into the center of the road, intent on her pursuit.

  But it seemed as if Alessandro had seen them, too. Without warning, the moped swerved off the road, down a steep dirt path that led to the beach.

  Narrow and craggy, there was no way a car could follow down this track. Now, he had the advantage and they were at risk of losing him.

  Juliette pulled to the side. Quickly, she triaged the situation.

  "We’re going after him," she told Sierra. "If you see him moving on the road again, it means we’ve lost him. You must track him again and call us."

  "I will," Sierra said.

  But Juliette thought there could be only one reason why he was heading down to this pristine, jewel-blue sea, and that was because he had a boat stashed away here.

  She grabbed her phone and piled out of the car, sprinting down the track after the moped, whose engine sound was easy to follow as it wound its way along the rocky trail, even though the track twisted and turned so sharply she couldn't see him.

  The path was slippery and uneven, and they had to watch their footing as they hurried down to the beach. Juliette was ahead. She heard the thud of Wyatt's feet pounding behind her. Around her, she could hear waves lapping against the rocky shore and the seagulls cawing overhead.

  As she reached the bottom of the trail, she saw Alessandro's moped parked just yards away from a small motorboat, bobbing gently in the water. And there he was, on the boat, frantically trying to start the engine. If he succeeded, he'd be free and clear, out on the sea, and they would have lost him – temporarily, but for long enough to mean they’d be in a whole lot of trouble. Already, Juliette could see how easily he could disappear, blending in among the flotillas of other vessels that dotted this calm and serene water.

  She couldn't let that happen. She had to get to him before he could make his escape.

  "Stop! We need to speak to you! Police business!" she shouted.

  Alessandro turned, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw Juliette approaching. For a moment, he seemed frozen, not knowing what to do. But then he made a decision, and with a fierce look in his eyes, he turned back to the boat's controls. As she skidded and stamped her way down a patch of sand among the rocks, she saw that Alessandro had started the engine, but it was sputtering and failing to turn over completely.

  "Stop! Police!" she yelled over the sound of the motorboat's engine, finally catching. Of course, he wasn't listening.

  Another moment and he'd be away. She had to take advantage of this opportunity. With a burst of adrenaline, Juliette sprinted towards the motorboat. As he let out the throttle, she jumped, arcing out from the rocky shore, hoping that her desperate maneuver would allow her to grab hold of the boat before he fled.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Juliette flew through the air, plunging down to the sea off the rocky shelf. Sea spray spattered her face. And then she splashed into water, just waist deep, lunging forward and grabbing hold of the boat's edge just as Alessandro revved the engine with a desperate cry.