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thumbs-up sign. It was time to surface. The two brothers swam toward the darkening sunlight above and climbed out near the rocks where they had left their gear.
    "That was a waste of time," Joe said, pulling off his face mask.
    Frank shook his head, disagreeing. "I don't think so. We learned that Kruger's really afraid that we might have something on him."
    "That's what I figured. A picture of something," Joe said.
    "Could be. Or maybe he just wanted our stuff to see if they could learn more about us. What else was in the trunk? Do you remember?" Frank asked.
    "Let's see," Joe replied, closing his eyes and trying to visualize the trunk. "My bag, which had a change of clothes and our towels and swim trunks, and some shells — maybe ... "
    "What about that lifesaver we found on the beach near Kruger's villa?" Frank was talking about a ring-shaped life preserver that must have fallen from a boat and been washed ashore.
    "That's right." Joe nodded, then stared at his brother. "But what would anyone want that for?"
    "Nothing—unless it belonged to them in the first place!"
    Frank and Joe gathered up their gear for the trek back up to the mopeds. They checked the ground carefully for any signs left by the underwater thieves during their approach or getaway.
    "Someone might have walked over here, but that doesn't tell us anything," Joe mused, talking to himself.
    "I don't see anything," Frank said.
    When they reached the bikes, they checked for tire tracks or footprints — anything that might help them later in establishing the thieves' identity.
    After Joe loaded his gear onto the moped, he scanned the surroundings. "They had to leave something behind," he said. "No one's that good."
    "Looks like they were careful. Pros always are.
    "But maybe not careful enough!" Joe had just noticed something glinting under a low bush.
    Frank followed Joe's gaze about fifteen feet from where they had climbed down to the water. A small object was shining, reflecting the early-evening light. "I see it!"
    "I hope it's not just a pack of cigarettes or something," Joe said as he jogged over to the bush. "Whoa — this just might be our first clue. Looks like a credit card!" Joe smiled.
    "Well?" Frank said.
    "Well," Joe mimicked, "it is a credit card, a Bank Eurocard." The sun was gleaming off the card's hologram. As Joe looked closer, his triumphant grin disappeared.
    "Well?" Frank urged.
    "It'll be very easy to track down the person who owns this," Joe continued. "According to the name on the card, it belongs to—Alfred Montague!"

Chapter 4
    "MONTAGUE?" FRANK REPEATED, complete disbelief on his face.
    "Alfred Montague. That's what it says. I can't believe he's involved in this."
    Frank agreed. "Me, neither. There must be some explanation."
    "If there isn't?"
    "If there isn't," — Frank paused — "we might be staying in the home of someone who's trying to kill us!"
    "What do we do? How do we find out?"
    Frank thought for a second. "We'll ask him." He made it sound as if it would be the easiest thing in the world. But Frank knew the confrontation with Montague would be awkward—and possibly dangerous.
    "Okay. But I'd feel a lot better if Alicia wasn't around when we meet with Montague." He looked at his watch. "Almost eight o'clock. They should be home by now. Why don't I give her a call — think of something to get her out of the house," Joe suggested.
    Frank nodded and got on his moped to join his brother. After a few minutes of riding, Frank pointed out a pay phone next to a small roadside restaurant. Joe dropped two coins into the box, then slowly dialed. He was still trying to think of some reason to get Alicia away from the house.
    "Hello? Alicia? ... Hi ... " Joe was thinking in double time. Maybe he could ask her to meet him somewhere, then he and Frank could go to the house when she left. But he rejected that idea because it would leave her stranded. "Do you, uh, feel like coming out to meet me?" he asked, still fumbling for words. "