I SWALLOWED. FRANÇOISE STOOD FROZEN. I wanted to reach over and punch her uncle for arranging Grandpa’s abduction. But I couldn’t. Not while he had Françoise at knifepoint. “I need that painting,” Drake hissed. “My buyer is coming for it at one o’clock. I have to deliver.” “Or what?” I was dumb enough to ask. “Or I’m dead. But you will go first.” In other words: we were stuck playing along with this crazy man. My phone rang. “Turn that off!” The tour guide lady snapped. Definitely not the nice lady we were hoping to find. I silenced the phone. It was probably Agent Stark or Albert Black, wondering why I wasn’t at the hotel. Or maybe it was that bad guy who had Grandpa. I itched to know. Françoise and I followed along with Drake at the back of the group. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find you here?” he hissed into Françoise’s ear. “Did you think I was stupid enough to believe your story about the vacation home after you abandoned your father on the plane?
