Several housekeeping employees of the Stella d’Italia Verona lived in a high-rise apartment on Via Santa Lucia, just a stone’s throw from Verona’s main rail station. Gabe watched Dani cover her ears as the teeth-rattling screech of brakes announced the arrival of yet another train.
“I used to live near a station,” he commented. “You get used to it.”
“I suppose you would,” Dani said neutrally. It was the first thing she’d said since they’d driven over from La Tana.
Something was wrong. He’d felt it the minute he’d returned from his meeting with Marco. The soft, delectable woman he’d left in bed not two hours previously was nowhere to be seen; instead a very agitated, distant Daniela had emerged. He’d come back to find her pacing their suite, but when he’d offered an apology, she’d waived it away, saying without heat, “No, don’t worry about it, really. I…I just want to get this all behind us, that’s all.” She didn’t seem mad at him, which bothered him more than anything. Anger he could deal with, but a Dani without emotion? He didn’t know what to make of that.
Dante had given them the name of two relatively long-term employees who could perhaps shed some light on one of the women who had recently dropped out of sight.
The two staff workers were like cotton candy and rutabaga. Ines was tall, blond, pretty, and ditzy. She obviously knew the effect she had on men and she reveled in it. Dobra, on the other hand, was big-boned, overweight, and unfortunately, shrewd. Gabe figured in the long run, Ines would be more forthcoming.
They lived in a tiny third-floor walk-up that seemed to have captured the heat of the afternoon and stubbornly refused to give it up. Dobra insisted on taking their jackets and hanging them on a coat rack in the corner. The living room consisted of a faded green couch, which the girls sat on, and two rickety chairs from the kitchen dinette set that Gabe thought might actually bend under his weight. A cheap fan blew a meager breeze that ruffled a couple of outdated magazines on the small, battered coffee table. He could smell the remnants of Indian curry—probably take-out, by the looks of the Styrofoam boxes overflowing a trash can in the kitchen.
Dani had opened their inquiry by explaining that Stella d’Italia wanted to make sure it was doing all it could to retain workers like Dobra and Ines and avoid hiring those who weren’t cut out for the job. She plastered on a smile and piled the bullshit on thick. Gabe was impressed by how well she’d gotten back into speaking Italian after just a few days.
“We want to have more high quality employees like you two,” she’d said. “So tell us, what kind of person was this Mirela—” she looked down at her notepad “—Mirela Pavlenco.” Gabe didn’t bother to interrupt because Dani had it wired. She probed for anything the two women might know about the kind of person Mirela was, who she socialized with, whether she was happy in her job, what might have prompted her to leave.
“She might have found a better job being a waitress or a dancer or something. I mean, she was sexy, you know?” Ines looked pointedly at Gabe and smiled. Despite the credibility of Dani’s business card, both young women had been reluctant to talk at first. Gabe, ostensibly Dani’s new “assistant,” had therefore shamelessly turned on the charm, and Ines had taken the bait. Of the two, she showed at least a modicum of cooperation. Not so with Dobra.
“So, um, she was attractive,” Dani said. “Is there anything else you can tell us about her? For example, did she make any new friends who came to see her?”
Both women shook their heads. “No, she was kind of shy,” Ines said. “She didn’t know anybody. You went out dancing with her once, didn’t you?” She turned to her roommate.
Dobra shook her head again. “No. Not really. I don’t remember.”
“Well, you’re both attractive, so there must have been something different about her,” Gabe suggested. He glanced at Dani, expecting at least an eye roll, but she gave nothing away.
“No, there was nothing,” Dobra said flatly. She sat with arms crossed under her pillow-like breasts and tapped her wide left foot on the floor. She needed a shower.
“Oh, she had something I thought was kind of pretty,” Ines countered. “I mean, I would never do it. My friends who’ve done it say it hurts, although not too much, but still…but a lot of people do it these days and it’s pretty cool, so maybe one day I’ll…”
“You’ll do what?” Gabe interjected, gracing her with a slow smile.
“Get a tattoo,” Ines said, caught by his gaze. “Would you like that? I mean, do you like those? On women, I mean?”
Gabe glanced at Dani. “Uh, well, I suppose that would depend on where it is,” he said, injecting some subtext into his tone. “Where was Mirela’s?”
Ines lifted her golden shoulder-length hair as if she were about to pin it up. “Back here,” she said, pointing to the back of her right ear.
“No, that wasn’t anything. That was a birthmark,” Dobra said. “You don’t know—”
“If that was a birthmark, then I’m the Holy Father’s daughter,” Ines shot back, dropping her hair. “It was a little blue butterfly landing on a tiny gold tree.”
“Sounds pretty. Did she like to show it off?” Dani asked.
“No,” Dobra said at the same time Ines shook her head.
“I don’t speak Romanian,” Ines said. “You can ask Dobra. It just sounds like marbles in the mouth to me. I just pointed to Mirela’s tattoo one time and said it was pretty, and she smiled and nodded. That was it.”
Dobra took that moment to stand up. Gabe decided he wouldn’t want to meet her in a dark alley; the woman was large.
“I really have to go to work now,” she announced.
“You working a double shift?” Ines asked. “I thought—”
The look Dobra gave her roommate would have kept a case of Budweiser perfectly chilled; Ines apparently got the hint because she shut up.
“Well, um, thank you for taking the time to talk to us,” Dani said. “We’re trying to find out why some of our employees are leaving the company. Perhaps we should conduct more interviews before they decide to leave.”
“Ya, that’s a good idea,” Dobra said, ushering them out the door. Just as she was about to close it in their face, Ines grabbed her purse and scooted by.
“I’ve got to go check the mail. I’ll walk you down,” Ines said.
She smiled and made small talk as they walked down the three flights of stairs. At the bottom, while Dani continued walking purposefully toward the car, Ines picked up a discarded flyer, pulled a pencil from her purse, and hastily wrote her name and number down. She handed the flyer to Gabe. “I…um…I’m not doing anything tonight. Maybe…maybe you’d like to talk some more about, well, you know, the job and all.”
Gabe glanced at Dani’s retreating figure before pasting a smile on his face. Who knows? Maybe the little twit will share more without Dobra the Dragon Lady breathing down her neck. “Great idea,” he said, looking directly at Ines and grinning suggestively. “Why don’t we go dancing? Maybe that place you said Dobra and Mirela went to. Is it around here?”
“Near Piazza Bra,” she said.
“Perfect. I could pick you up at Caffè Notte—you know it? Say, eight thirty? We could get a bite to eat and then head over. He leaned forward. “But don’t tell Dobra, okay? She looks like the jealous type.”
Ines giggled and reached over to touch his arm. “It’ll be our little secret. Until tonight, then.”
Gabe inclined his head, offering her a slight smile. “Until tonight.”
Ines waved goodbye with her fingertips and headed back up the stairs. Gabe transferred the phone number to his cell phone as he hurried to catch up with Dani. Once he reached her, she didn’t acknowledge him, but kept walking, her face a study in control.
Gabe started to explain, but she cut him off. Not with anger, not with jealousy, but with something much more deadly: indifference.
“It’s not important,” she said, looking at him with lifeless eyes. “Not at all.”
Gabe held his tongue. She couldn’t mean it. Not after last night. He strapped himself into the driver’s seat and waited for her to blow her top. Yell at him. Slap him, even. Anything to open the door so that he could explain why he’d just made a date with that little twit Ines.
But instead she merely stated, “That woman Dobra was lying.”
Okay. Back to business, then. The other could wait. “No question about it,” he agreed. “She knows something. And she did not like us being there.”
“Maybe she had a thing against Mirela. If the woman was that attractive, there could have been some jealousy.”
Gabe shook his head. “Given Dobra’s less than friendly attitude, that’s a possibility, but I don’t think so. If that were the case, she could have called her a bitch, dissed her job performance, said good riddance and all that. She didn’t seem to care about the Romanian girl personally. She just didn’t want us to know anything about her.”
“I wonder if Dobra’s Romanian.”
“Maybe. Or maybe she’s Croatian. Marco’s working on a lead in that direction.”
Gabe pulled out his phone and began texting. “Speaking of which, let’s see if he can scare anything up on Dobra Moretti.” He put the phone on the dash. “So, bella, may I take you to lunch?”
Dani glanced at him. “Uh, no thanks. If you don’t mind just dropping me back off at La Tana, I think I’ll just get a snack and a nap. I’m…kind of tired. Didn’t sleep too well.” The moment she said it, her face turned bright red.
“That’s my kind of insomnia,” Gabe murmured, reaching for her. She flinched. Yes, something had definitely happened while he was meeting with Marco. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Dani avoided his gaze, but after a moment resolutely turned to face him. “About last night…”
“And this morning,” he said.
“And this morning. It was…it was great and all, and really helped me out a lot, but…”
She looked away again.
“But you’re sorry it happened and it will never happen again. Do I have that right?” Gabe tried to keep the resentment out of his remark.
“Something like that.” She gazed back at him, imploring him with those big velvet eyes. “I told you I have baggage…”
“And I told you I’d help you carry it.” Gabe’s hands tightened on the steering wheel to keep from touching her.
“I know, and I appreciate all you’ve done, in so many ways, really. But I think I just have to take it from here,” she said. “My family situation here is pretty messed up.” She laughed harshly. “Mio Dio, I’m pretty messed up. I’m…I just don’t want you getting stuck in all this…miseria. Maybe it’s time you cut your losses and headed back home.”
Gabe didn’t respond immediately to Dani’s insane comment because he knew that whatever he said he’d probably regret later. He took a moment to watch the activity at the train station across the street. Dozens of people were continually entering and leaving the building, like hardworking bees maintaining their hive. They all seemed to have someplace to go. Gabe wanted to be one of them, heading far away from the shit connected to La Tana and his and Dani’s families. Hell yes, he wanted to go home. But right now he didn’t have that luxury. And he knew it was going to get a whole lot uglier before they could leave it all behind. But one thing he was sure of: when they did leave, they were going to leave together.
He finally turned and looked at her. “You want to shelve the discussion about you and me, that’s fine. You want to blow off the fact that we made incredible love, that’s up to you, too.” He tensed. Better tell her everything. “But there’s something you need to know. The witness we talked to yesterday about his involvement in your father’s death was murdered. Executed. Whoever’s behind what’s going on isn’t happy we’re asking questions, and they don’t mess around. So yeah, to say there’s some misery connected to La Tana is an understatement. And Dani? There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you here to deal with it alone.” He started the car and headed for La Tana, not bothering to comment on the tears that were quietly streaming down Dani’s face.
Despite his warning and her tears, Dani didn’t soften toward Gabe the rest of the day and Gabe decided not to push her. When they returned to the estate, she politely excused herself, went into her room, and shut the door. “I really am tired,” she’d said. “I’m going to take a nap.” Damn, he was tired, too. He wanted nothing more than to curl up behind her sweet body and lose himself in dreams of her. But she was having none of it. It seemed she’d retreated behind the same aloof barrier he’d been trying to win over for the past year. He didn’t understand it.
He stretched out on the daybed for a cat nap of his own and promptly fell asleep. When he awoke several hours later, he was covered with a blanket and Dani was gone. At least she’d left a note. She was spending the afternoon and evening with Agnese, she wrote, and they’d be out late because they were going out to dinner and then to see Aida at the Arena. She might even ask Dante to join them, she’d added.
“Better you than me,” Gabe muttered, feeling a twinge of sympathy for Dante. The end of that opera depressed him. The two lovers end up sealed in a tomb with no chance of escape. They die in each other’s arms, supposedly feeling at peace, which some people might find romantic. But personally, if he found himself in that predicament with Dani, he’d be looking for a way to save her until his very last breath. Of course, that brought up the question of fate again. Did it exist? And if it did, should he just accept the course of his destiny, whatever it happened to be, or should he—could he—try to change it? He didn’t know the answer, but he was sure of one thing. Now that he knew how good they could be together, no way was he going to give up on Daniela without a fight.
Unfortunately the fight would have to wait until tomorrow because tonight he was stuck courting Ines. Hopefully she’d give up something in the way of useful information. Gabe went for a long run around the estate, demolished the rest of the daily fruit and pastry tray, then grabbed a clean change of clothes and headed into the bathroom to take a shower. He washed his hair and shaved his five o’clock shadow, wondering idly if Daniela liked the forty-eight-hour stubble look that seemed to be so popular. If she did, so much the better—it’d be great only having to shave every other day. But thinking about her made him frown. Maybe she was sensitive. He hadn’t checked to see if he’d left any marks or abrasions. Those wouldn’t be good. Not on her delicate skin. Though he had to admit, he did like the idea of other men seeing the evidence of his claim. Shit, now you sound like a Neanderthal. Daniela brought that out in him like no other woman ever had.
He went downstairs and raided the kitchen, then spent an hour and a half back in the suite going over his notes, looking for any connections he hadn’t made before. To kill some time he considered taking another nap, but decided to watch a spaghetti western on TV instead. It was great not having to deal with sub titles. In the evening, on his way out, he scribbled his own note and left it where Dani would see it:
Trying to pry more information out of Ines tonight. I’ll share what I’ve learned when I get back.
“Isn’t the Labyrinth incredible?” Ines gushed later that night. The nightclub off Piazza Bra was dark, loud, and pulsing with the libidos of several hundred young men and women determined to get high, get moving, and get laid. Gabe had lost his fascination for places like the Labyrinth about ten years earlier. It didn’t help that as a beat cop in L.A. he’d often had to break up fights—some of them deadly—between partygoers who lost control.
Ines met him wearing a skintight, fire-engine-red mini dress and four-inch stilettos, which put her at eye level with him. He wondered why women put themselves through the torture of wearing those mini stilts. If they did it to get a guy’s attention, it worked—for about ten seconds. Besides which, the place was so dark, who could really tell what the other person was wearing anyway?
He bought Ines a whisky and soda, which she drank through a straw, and settled for just a club soda himself. Over pasta earlier she’d told him she was a Veronese, having lived in the city all her life. She liked working as a housekeeper at the Stella d’Italia because the hours were good and she got to meet all sorts of rich people, especially men, who gave her great tips. She didn’t sleep with many of them, of course. She was very selective. Someday she was going to open her own hairdresser shop, once she saved enough money to take the course.
Over the next couple hours, Gabe worked his magic to get Ines to spill her guts. Yes, she said, the Labyrinth was the last place anybody saw Mirela Pavlenco. Mirela and Dobra had gone dancing. Ines remembered, even if Dobra didn’t, because at the last minute Dobra had asked Ines to cover for her and Ines had been pissed because, mio Dio, what’s the big deal about having to go dancing on a particular night? And Dobra had told her she and Mirela were going out for a special celebration. And then, poof, Mirela up and quits and doesn’t tell nobody where she’s going. Way to make friends, Mirela.
Gabe nodded and listened and refilled her glass. Ines began to talk more about Dobra.
“She used to be married to Adriano Moretti, but they broke up on account of her traveling to other hotels and helping out all the time,” Ines explained. “He musta got lonely ’cause he cheated on her and when she found out she almost pummeled him to death. That’s when she moved in with me.” Ines giggled and took a sip of her drink. “But hey, I don’t mind that she travels a lot. You’ve seen how small our place is.”
“Where’s she from originally?” Gabe asked.
“Croatia,” she said. “She told me that a long time ago it used to be part of a country called Yugoslavia or something, but now it’s all broken up.” She waived her arm erratically. “It’s not that far from here. You just go over the water.”
“What brought her to Verona?”
“Oh, probably Romeo and Juliet, just like everybody else.” Ines giggled again and swayed a little on her bar stool. “No. Not really. Her mother works in the corporate office and got her a job. They’re a real close family.” As she talked, Ines sipped through her straw and constantly surveyed the crowd, apparently looking for people she knew. “Uh oh,” she said suddenly.
Gabe looked around the crowded room. “What?”
“See that guy over there dancing with that red-headed girl? That’s Goran Novak. Dobra’s going to be pissed.”
Gabe snapped to attention. Novak. He looked in the direction she pointed. Sure enough, it was the same guy with Tino in the bar. Good thing Novak was too far away to notice them. Gabe turned subtly away from the dance floor just in case.
“Uh, why is Dobra going to be mad? Is that guy her boyfriend?”
“No. Her cousin. But Dobra can’t stand Angelena, the girl he’s dancing with. She thinks she’s just out to take his money. I don’t know. I like her, though. She has nice hair.”
Gabe let her prattling wash over him. Cousin. Mother. The pieces were starting to click into place. Now if he could only—
“Uh oh.”
Gabe turned back toward the floor. “See somebody else?”
Ines nodded and sipped again nervously, her eyes focused behind Gabe this time. A kid in skintight pants and a modified Mohawk walked up to them.
“What are you doing with him?” the punk asked.
Gabe stuck out his hand. “Gabriele de la Torre. A pleasure to meet you.”
Apparently not in the mood for niceties, the kid only had eyes for Ines, and right now those eyes were tearing up. Oh, sweet Jesus, talk about Romeo and Juliet! Inside, Gabe chuckled. Evidently it wasn’t his charms so much as Ines’s quest to make her current boyfriend jealous. Why not play it up? “Oh man, is this your girlfriend? I’m really sorry.”
“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend,” he said in English, which meant either he wasn’t Italian or Gabe’s accent sounded far more Americanized than he thought it did.
“Well, I meant it,” Gabe replied in English. “I’m very sorry.” He turned to Ines, who was staring at the young man and smiling. She’d obviously accomplished her goal for the evening. “Ines, I can see you…uh…have a lot to talk about. Signor, can you escort Ines home? I have to be going, and…”
“It’s okay,” Ines said. “Caesar will give me a ride home. But hey, thanks for the drinks.”
“No problem.” Gabe slapped the punk heartily on the back. “You take good care of her, you hear? Lei è una donna molto speciale.” A special woman is right, Gabe thought as he made his way out of the nightclub. She might have just helped us crack the case.