Back in the café, Roxy took a first sip of her latté. The American woman was right, it was good, so good in fact, she decided not to bother with the sugar. Yet for the life of her she couldn’t enjoy it. The police must have found a body, why else would they come rushing down the street to see Donald?
But what if the body they’d found was not Donald’s wife? What if it was ...?
She couldn’t finish that thought, felt nausea well up inside again, yet as she tried to calm herself down, it was clear Caroline was on a totally different train of thought.
“What the hell was he on about?” she was saying. “He seemed to think I was suggesting that he had an affair. I was talking about his wife and Max. You got that, right?”
Roxy tried to drag her mind back to their earlier conversation. She sighed, picked up the sugar dispenser and unloaded several shots into her cup.
“But why would he think that?” Caroline persisted. “Unless ... maybe he’s deflecting. Trying to get us off Max’s trail.” She was shaking her head. “What a hideous little man. He was obviously lying about Max, right? I mean, yeah, sure he’s never seen him before. Like we’re gonna believe that!”
“I don’t know, Caro. He did seem genuinely surprised by the mention of Max. Confused, even.”
She scoffed. “Nonsense! He was lying through his itty bitty little teeth. Did you see them? They were so tiny and sharklike. And what about that skin. Eeew. Do you think he suffers from rosacea, or maybe hives?” She mock shuddered. “Horrendous man.”
Roxy hadn’t even noticed the man’s teeth, wasn’t sure what his skin condition had to do with anything and suddenly felt like they were barrelling along the wrong track. “Caroline, that man has lost his wife. They might have just found her body, might be telling him right now.”
“So?! Whose fault is that?”
“Well, we don’t know ... yet.”
Caroline shook her head at Roxy. “What’s got into you?”
“I don’t know. Now that I’ve met Donald Marlow, I’m just not convinced he even knew Max.”
“Oh come on, Roxy! The guy is a weasel. He’s up to no good. I can tell! Looks familiar, though. Was he here last night, as well?”
Roxy thought about this. “Yeah, he was talking to Maria at the bar. So why, then, would Maria act like she doesn’t even know his wife?”
“She said that?”
“Not in so many words, but that’s the impression I got.”
Caroline eye-rolled her. “Maybe she was just consoling him, doesn’t mean she knew his wife. Honestly, I can’t understand you at all, Roxanne. You seem to have it in for her, yet act like the grubby hubby is all innocent and light!”
She went to defend herself and stopped. What was the point? Caroline was clearly in a bad mood today and she didn’t have the energy to argue with her. Instead, she finished her coffee and looked up the road, noticing the large American couple talking to a police officer. He was holding a hand up as though trying to direct them away.
“Speaking of light,” Roxy said, “let’s see if we can shed a bit more on what the police have found.”
By the time they’d paid for their coffees—Maria not bothering to hide her sneer as she snatched their euros from them—the officer had disappeared and the American woman was waddling down the road towards them, her husband in his usual spot at her rear end.
“Oh, look, Vern, it’s the O-sees again. Hey, gals, did you hear the news?!” They sidled up to her, shaking their heads. “They found a body! Washed up on a beach somewhere.”
She sounded excited and Roxy couldn’t believe the woman’s insensitivity, like she was chatting about a plotline from an Agatha Christie novel. She glanced at Caroline who was suddenly looking stricken, her eyes wide, her arms folded tightly around her chest.
“Do they know who it is?” Roxy asked and the woman snorted.
“Well, who else is it gonna be, darlin’? Donald’s being taken there now.” She leaned in closer. “To identify the body.” She snorted again. “But it has to be her! Of course it’s her. I mean, who else?!” She gave them another of her “knowing” looks before waddling past them and away.
“I can think of at least one other person,” Caroline said hoarsely and Roxy reached for her hand.
“It’s not him, Caro. He’s okay.”
Caroline snatched her hand away with a huff. “Is that what helps you sleep? Blind optimism.”
Roxy frowned. “Who says I’ve been getting any sleep?”
“Well you seem particularly relaxed today. Suddenly you’re trying to say that guy is all innocent. Like Max just wandered off on his own and all is fine with the world. It’s like you don’t want to find him or something.”
Roxy stared at her, confused. “What are you on about?”
“I want to know why you’re so calm. Like none of this matters.”
Roxy bristled. “Of course it matters. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Sure, but why? I mean, you didn’t even want him around, did you? You wouldn’t move in with him.”
“Sorry?”
“Back in Sydney! Maybe if you had, he might never have taken that stupid bloody job in Berlin—”
“Stupid? You were so excited for him.”
Her mouth widened, her hands dropped to her hips. “Oh so now it’s all my fault?!” Caroline’s voice was rising and Roxy held both hands up to placate her. They were still standing on the street outside the restaurant and Sofia was now watching them keenly, a mobile phone at her ear, while several shop owners and tourists were staring towards them, one or two looking amused.
Roxy took a deep, settling breath and lowered her voice. “It’s nobody’s fault, Caroline. We don’t even know what’s happened yet, so we can’t lose our heads. Not yet.”
“No, you never lose your head, that’s the problem.” She turned away and began striding back towards the underpass en route to their apartment, and Roxy sighed and followed her.
She was feeling waves of anger now and was trying to deflect them as she raced to keep up with Caroline who was moving swiftly despite the ridiculous heels.
“Hang on a minute, Caroline,” she called out, not caring suddenly who saw or heard what. “You’re the one who’s been acting like everything’s hunky-dory!”
“I have not!” she screamed back. “He’s my brother, Roxanne!”
“So you keep telling everyone.”
“Well at least I’m happy to admit it. You can barely say his name without flinching.”
“That is not true.”
“You never call him your boyfriend.”
“That’s because he’s not my boyfriend. We broke up, six months ago, remember?”
“No!” She stopped and swung around then, her eyes blazing, her hair flying about her face. “You broke up with him, you broke his heart and now he’s ... he’s ...”
Caroline looked as though she was about to burst into tears and Roxy tried to reach out to her again but she shook her off and continued storming up the road. Roxy followed silently, spotting their apartment owner, Hugo, standing at one side in front of a small convenience store, a mobile phone at his ear, a frown on his face.
“Ciao, bella!” came a voice to one side and Roxy glanced around to find Monty at his usual post, his smile wide. He clearly didn’t realise the women were mid-fight.
Caroline ignored him completely and Roxy managed a small, weary wave as she followed her into their building and up the stairs to their apartment. When Caroline reached their door, she swung back to Roxy with a huff.
“I haven’t got the key.”
Roxy grappled through her handbag and felt a renewed surge of anger swell up inside. For days now, Caroline had been behaving like a narcissistic airhead, barely bothering to blink when Max’s flatmate had showed up murdered in his apartment. Ever since they’d arrived she’d been more interested in looking good than finding her brother and now she had the hide to say Roxy was the blasé one. She was infuriated but she could also tell exactly what was going on and it helped douse the flames of her anger.
She looked up at her friend. “I know what you’re doing, Caroline, and you can cut it out.”
“Oh really Miss Smarty Pants, what am I doing?”
“You’re hurting so you’re lashing out.” She took another calming breath while Caroline folded her arms defiantly and refused to meet her eyes. “But you’re picking on the wrong person, and if you weren’t so bloody terrified, you’d see that. If you want to find your brother, get a grip. I don’t know if Donald Marlow has anything to do with this but I’m not going to point fingers until we get some more evidence. Real evidence. In the meantime, pull yourself together. Max’s disappearance is not about you or me. And it certainly has nothing to do with whether or not he’s my boyfriend!”
Still Caroline refused to look at her and Roxy’s mood turned dark again. “Listen, Caroline, we don’t know why Max has disappeared but we need to find him and we’re not going to do that by screaming at each other in the middle of Rio-bloody-maggiore! Got it?!”
Before she could reply, Roxy threw the keys at her and flung herself back down the staircase, two steps at a time, leaving Caroline blinking rapidly behind her.
By the time she got out to the street, Roxy was gasping for air and shaking with indignation. She tried to take some deep, gulping breaths to calm herself down. Like Caroline, she was hurting, too, and terrified to the core, but she couldn’t lose her head, not now. She had to find Max. That was all that mattered. She whipped around and spotted Monty again but this time he was pretending to be deeply interested in an Adidas cap.
She strode across to him and without any pleasantries said, “You need to direct me to your local police station. Now.”