Sleep is overrated, Dani thought as she willed herself to get up the next morning. A peek out the window of her sumptuous bedroom told her it was going to be another crystal clear day, unlike her brain after tossing and turning all night.
She pulled on a tank top, sweatpants, and hoodie, hoping a run would help clear her head. She felt a combination of excitement, trepidation, and, strange as it seemed, joy. “Today is the first day of the rest of your life,” she murmured, tying her shoes. And, she decided, she was going to make it productive. First, refrain from waking up Gabe so as to avoid any “post heavy talk” awkwardness. Do not check him out as he sleeps.
After her run she’d be in better shape to talk to him, which, like it or not, she had to do. Last night, she’d all but forgotten to tell him about her uncle’s off-the-wall job offer, her grandmother’s concerns, and the strange accounting issues she’d uncovered after pouring over the books. That’s why she’d been so late returning to La Tana. Well, sort of. Not wanting to return to an empty suite and wait for Gabe had certainly figured into it.
Whatever his “date” with the mystery woman had started out to be, it hadn’t ended well, or he wouldn’t have been back—for hours, he’d said—worrying about her.
He said he’d be her friend, someone she could count on. But maybe, over time, he could be…more than that. The idea set her pulse quickening. Maybe…maybe he could help her get over this weird fear—the panicky sensation she got when a man approached her in a physical, sexual way. Gabe said he’d do anything for her. He admitted he was “affectionate,” which even she knew was code for being attracted to her.
What was that term she’d learned in Psychology 101? “Successive approximation.” That was it. Like if you were afraid of snakes, the way to get over that fear was to start with, say, a picture of the snake, then maybe watch a TV show about them, and then go to a zoo and finally hold one of the creepy reptiles. She smiled. She had an idea that letting Gabe loose as far as sex was concerned would be like joining the cast of Snakes on a Plane on her first day. There had to be some way they could ease into it. When he’d grabbed her the night before, she’d felt the familiar panic only for a second; after that, her body had taken over and she’d felt this incredible…desire. What a feeling! Like all the endorphins she’d ever felt from a great run had all converged into one giant, overwhelming rush. If anyone could get her over her phobia, Gabe probably could.
But was that fair to him? Didn’t he deserve someone without all the problems she knew she had? Maybe if she could get him to approach it like he was doing her a favor, as a friend, it wouldn’t be such a big deal. They could even agree that anything they did here in Verona would stay here—like Vegas. He could help her out and she wouldn’t hold him to anything once they got back to Little Eden. It could work. It could.
Buoyed by the thought, she took a fortifying breath and opened the door, thinking she’d just tip toe by the alcove. As she passed it, she couldn’t help but peek around the corner.
It was empty.
By the look of the sparsely populated fruit bowl and ransacked pastry tray, Gabe had already fortified himself and taken off. He’d left a note, however. It read:
I want to tell you about Carla. Meet me at the upper garden pavilion.
Like air escaping a balloon, Dani’s spirits deflated. Who was this Carla, anyway? If Gabe professed to care for Dani, why was this woman important? Gabe had talked about being a support for her, but she had to grudgingly admit, it worked both ways. Maybe he was attracted to the woman and didn’t know what to do about it. Maybe he was seeking Dani’s advice. Well, she would be happy to give it; he was her friend and that’s what friends are for, right?
Then why did she suddenly feel so…sad?
No, that would never do. She shook off the thought, took a biscotti, and headed down the hall, passing a woman in a nurse’s uniform coming from the opposite direction. “Buon giorno,” she murmured.
“Buon giorno.”
As the woman passed, it dawned on Dani that there must be someone in need of medical attention. “Scusi, signora,” she called after the woman. “C’è una persona malata?”
“La Signora Forcelli, signorina. Soffre di enfisema.”
“Ah, sì, grazie.” Of course, Dani thought, feeling guilty. How could she have forgotten? Her Aunt Ornella lived in a suite of rooms down the hall on this very floor. She’d had emphysema for years and was attended by nurses around the clock. Uncle Santo never mentioned her, and neither did anyone else in the family. It was almost as if she didn’t exist. Suppressing a shudder, Dani made her way down the back stairs and out the back, vowing to stop in and see her aunt later in the day.
The gardens behind La Tana weren’t totally overgrown, but they did look forlorn, as if they longed for better days. Dani started to climb the stone steps that wound their way up one side of the vineyard and ended at a folly at the top of the hill. She and Agnese had spent many afternoons in the gazebo, pouring over fan magazines and gossiping about the goings-on at the convent school, knowing they were safe from judgmental ears. Even though Fausta was an employee, Dani had always deferred to her, even feared her a little. It seemed as if the housekeeper controlled virtually everything at La Tana, especially her daughter Agnese, almost as if Agnese were a princess in a tower. In fact, whenever they were out on the grounds of the estate and heard Fausta calling sternly for Agnese, Dani would tease her friend by saying, “Time to go, Rapunzel.” Agnese possessed such a good nature that she never took offense—but she always obeyed her mama. No doubt Fausta would have wanted her to attend the funeral and Dani wondered why her friend hadn’t shown up. She resolved to see Agnese as soon as possible, too.
“Up here, bella,” she heard Gabe call from above. Shielding her eyes, she could just make him out at the top of the staircase. She continued her climb and took Gabe’s hand when he offered to help her up the last incline to the plateau above. She noticed he didn’t let go as they walked to the small but ornate pavilion set in a clearing surrounded on two sides by evergreens, which marked the beginning of the alpine ascent beyond. Memories assailed her as she took in the circular benches, situated to take advantage of the view down the valley on the opposite side of the gazebo. She remembered the vista well: slightly below was La Tana, standing watch over an ancient but still beautiful town, which itself was nestled along the banks of the swiftly flowing Adige River.
“Why are we here?” she asked. “Couldn’t you have told me about Carla back in our suite?”
Gabe motioned for her to sit. “I wanted to talk to you away from the house,” he said.
Dani frowned. Maybe this thing with Carla was more serious than she thought. She steeled herself for the worst. “All right. I’m here. What do you want to tell me?” The next words to come out of his mouth nearly floored her.
“Carla Rinaldi was your father’s…girlfriend. And she believes he was murdered.”
“What?!”
“You heard me.” Gabe took her hand again and waited.
Dani shook her head. “That can’t be. He…he…It was an accident.” She searched Gabe’s eyes for some sign that he was kidding, or just speculating. But he gazed directly back at her with something akin to pity. Or maybe he was just feeling bad as the bearer of bad news.
“I’ve done some checking and I think she’s telling the truth,” he said quietly.
Dani began to pace the gazebo, her thoughts warring with her emotions. Why would someone kill her babbo? Why would they take him from her? Her eyes welled up and Gabe reached for her.
“Let me tell you what I know,” he said.
Dani sat and immediately felt the solid presence of Gabe’s arm around her. She concentrated on her breathing while he spoke.
“Carla slipped me that note at the reception saying to meet her yesterday at one, that she knew your father had been killed, and to tell no one. When I met her she was on her way out of the city. She knew if and when they connected your father to her, she might be next.”
“But how—”
“She dined with your father that evening. Apparently they often traveled together, but stayed in different rooms to avoid the paparazzi. He suffered from migraines and had turned in early after taking medication. She said he would never drink in that condition, and that the meds made him sleepy. Her room was several doors away and a short time after they said good night she heard a commotion in the hallway. Two men were talking and it sounded to her as if one of them were carrying a heavy load. She feels terribly guilty, thinking that if she had only opened her door, none of it would have happened.”
“Or maybe she would have gotten hurt too,” Dani said.
“Exactly what I told her. Anyway, I met Marco at his precinct afterward and verified what I could without giving her away.”
“Why didn’t she go directly to the police?”
“She’s scared shitless, worried about corruption. And Dani, her story checks out. There was no alcohol in your father’s system, only the migraine meds. Marco’s following up on some other evidence, but it’s starting to look like someone killed your dad and made it look like an accident.”
“But who? Why?”
“We’re working on that. Carla was the human resources director at the Stella d’Italia Milano. She’d gotten wind of some strange business related to disappearing housekeeping staff members, not only in her hotel but throughout the company. She makes a compelling case for the possibility that there’s been some human trafficking running through the system. She told your father about it, and her theory is he died on account of it.”
Dani shook her head. “But Stella d’Italia is relatively small, and my uncle runs it with an iron fist. How on earth could someone pull that off without him finding out about it?”
Gabe’s silence spoke volumes and Dani turned to him, her eyes wide.
“Wait a minute. You don’t think he…?”
Gabe shrugged. “All I know is what Marco told me. He basically agreed with you. He said there’s no way something like that could be going on in that company without either Santo or Dante—or both—knowing about it.”
The cool of the morning had nothing to do with the shiver that traveled down Dani’s spine. “Human trafficking” was a polite label for the sex slave trade. Could her uncle or cousin really have anything to do with such a disgusting crime? It was unthinkable, and her hackles rose. “Who is this Carla person, anyway, Gabe? Do we really know if she’s telling the truth? Maybe she was a plant by some competitor or something. Maybe—”
Gabe held up his hand. “You’re right. We don’t know a lot about her. But Marco confirmed she was your father’s companion and was employed by the Milan hotel. Apparently when her director of housekeeping first brought some odd staffing issues to her attention, she began to look into it, but was called off by higher ups. She did some research anyway and found out things weren’t adding up.” He paused and looked intently at Dani. “Maybe the most important thing is, my gut tells me she loved your father very much. And she is afraid she’s going to get killed for it. If she had anything to do with his death, why would she take a chance just to keep a case open that even Marco admits nobody wants to pursue?”
Not adding up. The words struck a chord with Dani. There was something odd going on, at least with the numbers she’d looked at. Her grandmother had sensed it, and Dani had seen it. Could there be any connection? “I, um, I learned something yesterday. I don’t know if it means anything, but…”
Gabe looked alarmed. “What? Did Santo say something?”
Dani shook her head. “No. It was after I left him at the restaurant. I stopped by Nonna Stella’s apartment and she asked me to look over some figures. It sounds odd, but she was concerned because there’s too much money flowing into the books—and she’s right.”
“What do you mean?”
“Every month there’s a twenty to thirty thousand dollar entry from a different company, flowing into a different hotel. It’s not always on the same day, but it falls once within each month. They’re apparently paying for “miscellaneous services rendered,” which is line-itemed as an accounts receivable from the executive office.”
“So, what—they book a lot of meetings?”
“That’s just it. I checked against both guest and conference room bookings but the companies aren’t paying to use hotel facilities, at least not under the name they’re billing under. Occasionally hotel execs will consult with companies regarding large events, but even for Stella d’Italia those fees seem excessive.”
Gabe reached into his pocket for his notebook and began writing in it. “Can you get me a list of the companies?”
“I can do better than that. I’ll run a search to see if they’re linked in any way.”
“That’s right.” Gabe smiled warmly at her. “I forgot you’re the resident computer geek back home at The Grove.”
Dani straightened her shoulders. “Nothing wrong with us geeks. So, once I get that information, what are we going to do about it?”
“You aren’t going to do anything,” Gabe replied, still jotting down notes. “I’ll take the information back to Marco and we’ll see if we can construct some sort of theory based on the facts.”
Dani put her hand on his forearm; it was well-muscled and covered with soft, dark hair—a man’s arm, strong and capable. But entirely too chauvinistic for her taste.
“Excuse me, but this is my family we’re talking about. If there’s something sinister going on, I need to know about it. I need to know who’s involved and I need to protect those who need protecting. So we’re going to work together—” her chin jutted mutinously “—or…or we’re going to work apart.”
Gabe methodically put his notebook away and slowly put his hand behind her head, his gaze boring into her. “This is not just a family squabble. This is not a game. This is something that could be very, very dangerous for those involved, which is why I don’t want you anywhere near it.”
“I hate to tell you this, but you’re out of your jurisdiction, Constable. And if you think I’m just going to sit back and let you slay whatever dragons you think might be out there, you are sadly mistaken. Besides, I can help you.”
Gabe looked skeptical. “How?”
“For starters, I can visit my cousin Dante and ask him about the accounts. That would be a natural thing for me to do for my nonna. And he might be able to clear the whole thing up…or not.”
“It’s the ‘or not’ I’m worried about.”
“Well, we won’t know unless I talk to him, so that’s what I’m going to do.”
Gabe sighed. “Look, how about we go see him together? At the very least, promise me you won’t do anything until I get both of us local cell phones. I can’t go through another night like we had last night. I have too many gray hairs as it is.”
Dani looked at his slightly wavy hair and sure enough, there were a few telltale strands in it. She couldn’t help herself; she reached up and ran her fingers through the thick, soft mane. Embarrassed at her own lack of control, she turned it into a joke. “They give you character, but I can pluck them out if you want.”
“I’ll pass,” he said, and pulled her up from the bench. “Just promise me you’ll let me know where you are at all times.”
Dani frowned. “Well—”
Gabe tilted his head so he could look directly into her eyes. “Dani?”
“Va bene, va bene. Sissignore.” She signaled her frustration with a wave of her hands, and started to jog back down the hill.
“Dani?” he called after her.
She stopped and turned, hands on hips, letting him know she wasn’t happy with him. “What?” she called back.
“I can help with this…I want to help.”
“I know,” she said, resignation in her voice. “I know.”
The corridor was quiet as Dani made her way down the wing of La Tana that housed Santo’s wife. She’d always been a sickly woman, and she became even more so after Dani’s cousin Ciro, Ornella and Santo’s son, passed away. Little Ciro was five years older than Dani and lived at the same estate, but only rarely had he deigned to play with Dani and Agnese. At first she’d thought he was a stuck-up creep, but time had revealed a sadder truth. His juvenile onset diabetes was severe and he’d died of complications from it when he was sixteen. Dani vaguely recalled a funeral—much more intimate than her father’s had been. She remembered Ornella with her distinctive, unnaturally red hair, looking painfully thin and dressed completely in black. A dark veil covered her face. There was no need for professional mourners because her aunt had loudly and painfully expressed the loss of her only child. One of Dani’s sharper memories of her Uncle Santo was his cold, unyielding demeanor that day. He hadn’t wept or carried on; in fact, he’d seemed to find his wife’s vociferous grieving distasteful. Dani could still remember thinking he looked mad at his wife and wondering why her aunt should shoulder the blame for Ciro’s death. Shortly after the boy was buried in the family cemetery, Ornella took to her rooms and was rarely seen out of them again. In the spirit of self-absorbed pre-teens everywhere, Dani remembered giggling with Agnese that La Tana had its very own Mrs. Rochester, although they’d argued as to which of them would have to play Jane Eyre to her Uncle Santo, who was way too old to be a romantic hero.
As she reached the door to her aunt’s suite, Dani could hear quiet voices and an intermittent mechanical hissing sound. It reminded her of a science fiction movie, as if her aunt were somehow being kept alive in a pod. She shivered at the thought and knocked quietly on the door. She was startled when a man in a suit opened it.
“Sì?”
“Uh. Buon giorno. I’m here to see my aunt. If you could tell her that Dani is here to see her.”
“La faccia entrare, Guglielmo, per favore,” she heard a woman call weakly from within. The man opened the door and Dani walked into what was for all intents and purposes a hospital room. It smelled strongly of antiseptics. A set of built-in shelves along one wall contained a plethora of medications and supplies. Nearby, a heart monitor beeped quietly. Aunt Ornella was propped up in a large hospital bed with side rails and a rolling tray upon which her breakfast sat. She had a cannula in her nose that was connected to the hissing machine, which supplied her with oxygen. A clamp on one of her fingers was connected to the monitor, and her forearm had a needle stuck into it from which a tube led to an IV stand. A severe-looking nurse who appeared to be in her fifties was fixing the pillows behind her patient’s back. Ornella looked incredibly frail; she probably weighed less than one hundred pounds. Her hair was very thin, but held the same vivid red color that Dani remembered from so long ago.
“How are you, Aunt Ornella?” Dani asked. She stood by the bed and took Ornella’s unencumbered hand in her own.
“I’m glad you’re speaking English,” she said. “I get so little opportunity to practice it.” The older woman gestured to herself in the bed. “As you can see, I am but a shell, Dani. A shell. I am waiting for this disease-ridden body of mine to give it up and I suspect it won’t be that long.”
“Oh, don’t say that,” Dani said. “You are…you are…”
“I know what I am, and pretty words won’t change the truth of it. But I’m glad you are here. I wanted to tell you that I am sorry for the loss of your father. I liked Armando very much. Did you know I always called him ‘little brother’? Because I was an only child, you see, and he was just the kind of fun-loving little brother I would have liked to have.” Ornella stopped long enough to take a bite of the pastry sitting on her tray. She washed it down with what looked and smelled like Doctor Pepper. “It was a crime for him to die so young,” she said pointedly. “A crime.”
Dani sensed her aunt wasn’t talking in metaphors. She looked around to see if anyone was listening. “What do you mean, a crime?”
Ornella smiled then and spoke to her staff. “Guglielmo, Zuleta, you may leave us for a few minutes. I am fine here with my niece for the time being.”
The man and the nurse left and Ornella gestured for Dani to lean over. “I am always careful what I say around them,” she confided in a near whisper. “They seem loyal, but you never know what money will buy, do you?”
Dani frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean, Aunt.”
“So young. So trusting,” Ornella said, squeezing Dani’s hand. “Tell me, what do you know about my husband’s latest business venture?”
The question took Dani by surprise, although she tried not to show it. “Do you mean the Alberghi Paradisi acquisition? Not very much. Only that because of my father’s death, Uncle Santo needs my votes to make the purchase. Why? Is there something I should know?”
“One hears things,” Ornella said. “Even in this prison cell. Santo visited me last month. He needs funds, so he tried to sell me on the merger, said that it would strengthen the company. ‘To what end?’ I asked him. He doesn’t like it when I say things like that.” She paused and took another sip of the giant soft drink. “So he went to my solicitor looking for a side deal, but Mauricio told me the numbers simply didn’t match Santo’s enthusiasm. Something is wrong there. Very wrong.”
“But—wouldn’t Santo know a good business proposition when he saw one?”
Ornella inclined her head. “Perhaps. But there is something else going on. There is danger. I can feel it.” She sighed and leaned back against her pillow.
Her aunt’s cryptic comments were starting to give Dani a headache. She hated it when the answer to a research question eluded her and this felt the same way. She silently counted to ten before speaking. “Well, Aunt, knowing Uncle Santo as you do, what do you think could be behind it?”
Ornella looked at Dani for several moments as if deciding how much to confide in her. “Santo is a filthy human being,” she finally said. “He is evil.”
“Oh come now, Zia. I know yours wasn’t the happiest marriage—”
Ornella barked with laughter that held no joy. “You have no idea what my husband is capable of—and with whom.” She gestured for Dani to come closer with the arm that held the I.V. “Do you want to know something funny?”
“I…I suppose so.”
“You probably don’t remember, but years ago I was, shall we say, curvaceous.” She placed a hand under her sagging left breast and lifted it. “These were bountiful and I thought Santo would be pleased. But he was not. It turns out he preferred a more prepubescent look.” She raised her eyebrows as if to silently add you know what I mean. “I tried to diet and could not bear it so I started to take pills and I started to smoke, and I lost weight. So in order to lose more weight, I took more pills and smoked even more. Now you see where that has led. And now I can eat whatever I want and still I lose weight. Funny, no?”
Dani shook her head. “But surely Uncle Santo…”
“Once he had my dowry and I had given him Ciro, Santo had no use for me. And after our little boy died, well, then he cared even less. I could have had a perfect body and it wouldn’t have mattered because by then I was way too old to interest his cock. I’m only sorry it took so long for me to figure that out.” Ornella looked deeply into Dani’s eyes. “Ask him where he goes on vacation every year and ask him why. And when he lies to you, determine the facts for yourself. You will see what I am talking about…and then you will finally know the truth.” At that point Ornella starting coughing violently. Dani didn’t know what her aunt was trying to say, but it was obviously making her upset.
“Should I get the nurse?” she asked, faintly alarmed. She turned for the door, but Ornella shook her head, reaching for the soft drink again. Dani held the straw for her as her aunt drank the soothing liquid.
“No, this is the way it is,” she managed to get out. Dani reached over to rub her aunt’s back and Ornella began to calm down. The woman lay back on the bed and closed her eyes. It smelled as if the bed linens or Ornella herself needed to be changed. “Soon I am going to see my little Ciro, but because of Guglielmo and his colleagues I will leave on my terms, not Santo’s.”
What was she talking about? “I’m sorry, but I don’t follow you,” Dani said.
Her eyes still closed, Ornella spoke wearily. “Who do you think Guglielmo is?”
“I don’t know. I confess I was puzzled when I first saw him. I assumed he was some sort of aide, but he doesn’t look the part.”
Ornella turned her head on the pillow and opened her eyes. “Not an aide, my dear—an armed guard.”
Dani couldn’t hide the look of shock on her face. “Why, Aunt? Why does Santo have someone guarding you?”
Ornella shook her head slightly; her wisps of bottle-red hair lay dank upon her scalp. “Santo doesn’t employ the guard, I do.”
“What? Why? Who are you afraid of?”
The old woman spoke in a whisper, as if she had run out of her allotment of energy for the day. “Your Uncle Santo, of course.”