Kathleen:
We'd left the palace through the back entrance in a private car, the driver handing us a card with his phone number for when we were ready to return. I was sure he was parked around the corner, waiting and watching for any sign of trouble.
The restaurant was perfect—a little hole-in-the-wall that called Josef an old friend, and knew how to keep people away from prying eyes.
Their specialty dish was pasta with a variety of meats sliced and mixed in, one of which I was sure was rabbit. But it was magnificent. The wine was local, from a small vineyard just down the road, according to the manager.
Lily didn't miss a beat, chatting up the waiter and complimenting him on the fine chocolate torte. It was excellent, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the palace.
The security men
