“Antonietta! Wake up! If you don’t wake up, I’m calling the doctor!” Natasha Scarletti-Fontaine shook her cousin over and over. “I’m not fooling around, wake up right this minute!” There was panic in the voice.
Antonietta stirred. Her lashes lifted partially, indicating she was awake. “What is it, Tasha?” Her voice was drowsy, and her lashes simply dropped down, covering her sightless eyes. Her head settled back into the pillows, and she burrowed beneath the covers. She was so tired, far too tired to get up. Everything in her urged her to sleep at least two more hours. It couldn’t be sunset yet….
“No you don’t! Antonietta Nicoletta Scarletti, you wake up this instant!”
Recognizing the absolute resolve in her cousin’s voice, Antonietta made a supreme effort to shake off the need for more sleep. “Oh for heaven’s sake, is there a major catastrophe I don’t know about?” She rubbed her eyes and struggled to sit up, desperately trying to understand where such an absurd thought as waiting for sunset had come from. “What is wrong with you?” She felt slightly disoriented and hazy, as if there were a veil over her mind, and she couldn’t quite remember important things. She wanted to sleep forever.
She pressed her hands over her ears. Her hearing was so acute, she could hear the steady beating of Tasha’s heart. Like a drum. It threatened to drive her crazy. Tasha’s breathing sounded like a rush of wind. Outside, the sea thundered and the rain poured down. Antonietta put her pillow to her ears in an attempt to muffle the sounds before she identified the whispering as actual conversations being carried out throughout the palazzo.
“Wrong with me?” Tasha was outraged. “I’ll have you know it’s nearly four in the afternoon, and none of us could wake you. Nonno told us about the break-in and said both of you had been drugged. He said your attackers threw him from the cliffs. What utter nonsense to think Byron Justicano saved his life by pulling him from the sea. No one could do such a thing. Nonno is getting senile. The authorities have been waiting for your account, and you just lie here sleeping the day away like nothing was wrong! And if that’s not enough to have to deal with, the cook has gone missing, just up and left without a word, and we had nothing suitable to eat. The housekeeper is having hysterics.”
Antonietta could not imagine the housekeeper, reliable Signora Helena Vantizian, in hysterics. The housekeeper was a steady, patient, matronly woman, well in command of the palazzo. “Why would Enrico have gone missing?” Cautiously she took the pillow from her ears, deliberately trying to turn down the volume on her hearing. It helped enough that her eardrums weren’t ringing.
“How should I know what that silly man is thinking? And it’s just like you to choose the most uninteresting and unimportant thing to deal with. The authorities came. Didn’t you hear me? They waited all day.”
Antonietta had a mad desire to laugh but wasn’t altogether certain the impulse stemmed from mirth. She might have found it amusing that it was perfectly normal for Tasha to sleep until noon every day or perhaps the problem was she was slightly hysterical due to the strange phenomenon with her hearing. For a moment, she actually tracked an insect scurrying across the floor. She forced her mind to focus on her cousin’s distress. “Are they waiting now?” Things were coming back to her, crowding into her mind. Not the details of attempted murder, but pure sensual pleasure. Byron.
“Nonno sent them away. He said you needed your rest after your ordeal last night. He can be so utterly rude sometimes. I wish you’d talk to him.”
Antonietta recognized the petulant note in Tasha’s voice. “You know perfectly well Nonno is as sharp as a tack.” Although he could be quite abrupt if he thought someone was acting like an idiot. He was often abrupt with Tasha. “For a minute there, I thought you were worried about me.”
“For a minute there, I thought I was, too, and I don’t appreciate the worry one bit, Antonietta. I absolutely do not want to get those hideous worry lines you serious types get. And why is it you always get the adventures? Why can’t someone try to kill me?” There was a rise to her voice now, a hint of a wail that forced Antonietta to shield her sensitive ears. “It makes no sense to waste it on you. You’re so you. Look at you sitting there just as calm as you please. I could be such a perfect victim and look pale and brave and interesting. You don’t look as if a single thing out of place happened.”
“Believe me, Tasha, it wasn’t a particularly fun experience. You don’t need to have someone try to kill you to look interesting. You always manage that nicely. You don’t need to be pale and brave, you’re beautiful, and you know it.”
Tasha waved the obvious away. “I know, I know.” She sighed. “Mere beauty isn’t always enough to capture attention, Antonietta. Some men are only interested in silly things like murder. What am I supposed to do? Hire someone to kill me just to get a little attention?” She stood up and paced across the floor with quick, angry steps. “It’s utterly ridiculous to think of that man spending hours with you, and you can’t even see him! It doesn’t bear thinking about.”
“Byron?” Antonietta tried desperately to follow her cousin’s thinking and at the same time control the volume of her hearing. The sound of Tasha’s shoes reverberated through her head.
“Oh that odious man! Not him. You know I can’t stand to be in the same room with him. He’s rude and obnoxious, and I hate him.” Tasha stared at her reflection in the mirror of the vanity. “Why would you have a mirror in here? I’ve never understood that.” She turned sideways and held her breath, checking her flat stomach.
“It came with the furniture,” Antonietta said. “What man are you talking about? I don’t spend hours with any man.” She turned away from her cousin to hide the sudden color she knew was spreading into her face. She couldn’t think too much about the time spent with Byron. About her reactions to him.
“The policeman, Antonietta,” Tasha snapped impatiently. “For heaven’s sake, follow along. This is important.”
“This is all over a policeman?” Antonietta sighed with a mixture of relief and exasperation. “Tasha, you’re engaged to be married. You have a fiancé, a very wealthy fiancé, I might add.”
“What does that have to do with anything? I’m going to marry Christopher, but he’s so boring. And he’s so jealous. It’s tiresome. His entire life is his family and church and business. All he can think about is ships and religion.”
“His family does own the second largest shipping company in the world, Tasha,” Antonietta said. “And Italian families are nearly always close.”
“Mama’s boys,” Tasha sniffed, “or in Christopher’s case, a daddy’s boy. They insist I have to go to church with him.”
“You knew going into the betrothal he wanted you to convert to his religion.”
“I didn’t realize I was supposed to take it so seriously. He brings that horrible priest over every week, and I’m supposed to study. All I should have to do is go and sit with him during the services. I don’t need to know all the mumbo jumbo that goes along with it. I doubt if anybody else really knows it. In any case, why can’t he just be a Catholic like everybody else? Who cares which religion is the true one and who broke away from what? It’s just silly.”
Antonietta sighed again. “You can’t have a fling with a policeman when you’re engaged to one of the more powerful men in the world. I think the tabloids would get wind of it.”
“Who mentioned a fling? I could really fall for him. He has the most wonderful chest you’ve ever imagined. Even Byron doesn’t have a chest like his, well, not as perfect anyway.” She made a rude noise. “Why do you like him?”
Deliberately Antonietta misunderstood. “I’ve never met your policeman, Tasha, so how could I possibly have an opinion?”
“You know very well I was talking about Bryon!”
“Why don’t you like him?” Antonietta countered.
“He doesn’t look at me. Never. That’s just not normal,” Tasha said. “All men look at me. And he’s scary. There’s just no other word for him. His eyes are flat and cold, and he stares at people like he sees inside of them. He never smiles.” She shivered. “He reminds me of a tiger I saw at the zoo one time, pacing back and forth in its cage and watching me without blinking.”
“He smiles.”
“He bares his teeth, it isn’t the same thing.” Tasha gasped loudly. “Antonietta! What is on your neck? You have a love bite.”
Antonietta could feel the sudden burning, a throbbing on her neck that caused an instant reaction in her body. Fire smoldered in the pit of her stomach. There was an answering throb between her legs. For a moment she could actually taste him in her mouth. Wild. Untamed. A dark, erotic dream better left for night yet persisting into daylight hours. The throbbing spread to include a spot on the swell of her breast. She tried not to blush, remembering the feel of Byron’s mouth, hot and wet and wild on her skin. She covered her neck with the palm of her hand, captured his kiss there, holding him to her with that small caress.
“It is a love bite! He was here last night with you!” It was an accusation, nothing less, as if Antonietta were on trial for criminal behavior. “You took Byron Justicano into your bed! Look at you, what you’re wearing!” Tasha was nearly hysterical. “That lace barely covers you! Have you no decency?”
“Tasha.” Antonietta forced herself to remain calm when she wanted to order her cousin out of the room. “You bought me this gown. I sleep in it because it is comfortable, and I have always considered you to be the epitome of good taste.”
“Well, yes, I am, it is true.” Tasha was somewhat mollified. “But I didn’t mean you to wear it for that horrible man. He’s a fortune hunter, out for your money all along. All this time pretending to be friends with Nonno, but in truth he was willing to seduce a blind woman.”
“Must you be so dramatic all the time, Tasha? I’m thirty-seven years old. Did you think I never slept with a man? This may surprise you, but you don’t have to have sight to share sex with someone.” Antonietta dragged on her robe and shoved her dark glasses over her eyes. “And I don’t appreciate you telling me I have hideous scars when they are barely noticeable.” She swept past her cousin toward the enormous bathroom. She should have slept with him. She’d been an absolute idiot not to sleep with him. It was all so hazy. She had wanted Byron to make love to her. Had she fallen asleep in the middle of it all? The idea was humiliating.
Tasha followed her. “That was years ago, Toni, you know it was. And the scars were much worse then. And you were getting so much attention from everyone. Poor little orphaned girl. It was like a movie. Just imagine what I could have done with that role.”
“It wasn’t a role, Tasha.” Exasperation crept into Antonietta’s voice in spite of her resolve to be patient. “I lost my mother and father. It was horrible. A tragedy.”
“I know. I was born for tragedy.”
“You have suffered tragedy.”
“Not that I can talk about.” Tasha sniffed indignantly. “And no one’s thought about your scars in years.”
“I thought about them every time I went out in public.”
Tasha studied one perfectly manicured fingernail. “If you weren’t so vain, thinking about your looks all the time, you wouldn’t have even remembered.”
Antonietta bit her tongue to keep from pointing out that Tasha spent half of her life in front of mirrors. “You should have told me they weren’t that bad. Not being the center of attention your every waking minute is not a good enough reason to hurt me.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake, Toni, you know I’m sorry, it was years ago. And you know I can’t help my need for constant affection. My shrink said it’s Daddy’s fault. He paid Paul all the attention.”
“He showered you with presents,” Antonietta contradicted. “You were his little princess. He gave you anything you ever wanted.”
Tasha sank into a deep-cushioned chair. “Presents can never make up for parental affection, and you know very well Daddy’s entire world was the polo fields. I couldn’t stand getting my shoes dirty, and he never forgave me. And he took Paul everywhere with him.” Her perfect pout was always wasted on Antonietta, so Tasha didn’t bother with it.
“You certainly know how to rewrite history. Poor Paul couldn’t do a thing right. He tried to please your father for years.” Paul and Tasha’s father had been obsessed with women, not with the polo fields, but Antonietta refrained from correcting Tasha’s version of history.
“And then Paul gave up and began gambling and drinking and doing everything he could to embarrass our family,” Tasha pointed out. “He went through every cent he inherited, first from Mama, and then Daddy. And then he lost all of my money. Daddy was perfectly right about his weak character all along.”
“That isn’t true. You went through most of your money yourself and then insisted on that investment Paul came up with. I told you it wasn’t sound. You knew it was throwing money away, but you did it anyway.”
Tasha jumped to her feet. “Ooh! How would you know what it’s like? Everything you touch turns to gold. You don’t have to sell yourself to a man who’s about as cold as a fish.”
“You and Paul have plenty to live on, Tasha, and you always have a home here, you know that. You don’t have to sell yourself, either. I told you not to invest your money. As I recall, I was adamant about it, but you wouldn’t listen.” To prevent further argument, Antonietta firmly closed the bathroom door.
She took her time showering, hoping Tasha would be gone by the time she dressed, although she knew it was unlikely. Her cousin was tenacious when there was a man in the picture, and apparently the authorities had made the supreme mistake of sending a handsome officer. She couldn’t imagine where the palazzo chef, Enrico, had disappeared to, but a distinct chill was working its way down her spine in spite of the hot shower. Byron was certain that someone was introducing poison into the food. Could Enrico’s disappearance have something to do with that?
She turned her face up to the hot water spray above her head. Byron had killed her assailant. She was certain he had. And the body had been dropped on the cliffs, carelessly, with little thought of what the authorities might think. What did she think? She knew things others didn’t. She could do things others couldn’t. And she knew Byron wasn’t quite human. She accepted it as she accepted it in herself, yet he had killed easily, swiftly, without hesitation. He claimed he hadn’t been suspicious of Enrico. Had he found evidence linking Enrico to the poison?
For a moment Antonietta leaned her head against the shower tile, allowing the spray to pour over her. Byron was many things she didn’t quite understand, but he would not have murdered Enrico. She was not going to allow Tasha, with all her drama, to make her suspicious. With a little sigh she turned off the hot water and dried the beads of water from her skin. The towel lingered over the one spot on her breast that felt hot and throbbed for attention. She dressed with great care, braided the thick mass of hair, and swirled it into an intricate knot to give her more height. To give her added confidence.
Tasha was still in her bedroom. Antonietta could smell her distinctive perfume and hear the continual rustle of clothing. Tasha was not a patient or restful person, and waiting would have been difficult for her. Antonietta forced a smile. “You’re still here. It must be important.”
“Finally! You could have hurried, Toni.” Tasha caught her arm. “This is important, you don’t know how important. You have to talk to Nonno. I must be allowed in the room when the authorities return to question you.”
“I’ll speak to him, Tasha,” Antonietta agreed.
There was a moment of silence while Tasha searched for the right words. “Don’t get upset with me. You know I always look out for you. You’re not nearly as worldly as I am, although, of course, you’re much older.”
“Have you forgotten we share the same birthday?”
Tasha hissed out a soft whisper of aggravation. “I don’t know you in this mood, Toni. Do you see? Already he is driving a wedge between you and your family!”
“I’m not having this conversation with you, Tasha. I don’t interfere in your personal life, no matter how bizarre I think it. All I ask is the same respect. What I do is my business, no one else’s. Don’t you dare bring up Byron to the rest of the family.”
“Are you really going to talk to Nonno for me?” Tasha asked.
“Yes, I said I would.”
A knock on the door was loud. Antonietta recognized Marita’s distinctive way of announcing herself. Marita tried very hard to come across with authority and importance, even in minor things. “Come in, Marita.” In another few minutes, all of her cousins would be crowding into her room.
“My husband, Franco, has sent me out of concern for your well-being, Antonietta.” Marita made the announcement formal and loud. “You have never slept this long in all the time we can recall.”
“You’ve been married to Franco for ten years, Marita,” Tasha said with exasperation, “we know he’s your husband. Do you have to announce it every time you walk into a room? You do have your own identity. If you’d just see Dr. Venshrank, you wouldn’t need to identify so strongly with Franco.”
Marita stuck her chin in the air. “Just because I’ve managed to stay married and happy for ten years and you’ve gone through two husbands and three fiancés doesn’t mean I need to see your doctor, Tasha. Franco is a good man, and I’m proud to be his wife. In any case, it reminds you I am a member of the family, too, if only by marriage.”
“You are so insecure,” Tasha said, rolling her eyes in disgust. “You’ve been in the family for ten long years, you have two children, and you’d think you’d get over the fact that you had totally inferior breeding and no social status whatsoever when Franco found you. We all have.”
“Don’t start, you two. I have to speak with Signora Helena immediately and find out what is happening, or you may not have food for the next few days.” Antonietta was exasperated with the both of them, grown women always feuding.
“Marita would live just fine for a day or two, but I wouldn’t survive.” Tasha patted her flat stomach lovingly.
Marita nearly screamed in frustration. “My stomach is a badge of courage, two bambini, and you with none.”
“Enough!” Antonietta nearly yelled it. “I don’t want you to ever say that again to Tasha in my presence, Marita.”
“I’m sorry, forgive me, Tasha. Toni is right, I shouldn’t have said such a thing.”
“I don’t pay attention to anything you say,” Tasha said belligerently, but her voice trembled.
Marita turned her attention to Antonietta. “Toni, I really needed to talk to you about Franco. He’s in a meeting with Nonno. I don’t want you to interrupt them. You must see he deserves another chance. It is time Nonno realized his worth and paid him accordingly. He should be vice president and respected by all.”
“You know I have no say in what Nonno’s decisions are, Marita.”
“Just promise me not to ruin Franco’s chance. I must insist, Antonietta. You know he works hard and deserves so much more than Nonno gives him. One little mistake should be forgiven.”
“It wasn’t a little mistake, as you well know, Marita. You pushed him until he was bitter and angry and wanting your respect. He betrayed his family and our company. He was lucky charges weren’t brought against him and that Nonno listened to Tasha’s and my pleas to allow him to stay here. If you’re pushing him again to do something he will later regret, think hard, Marita. Nonno won’t forgive another betrayal, not even for the children, and Marita, neither will I.”
“He turned down a huge offer from Christopher’s company to join with them. A merger would be good for both companies. Franco has proved his loyalty even though he knows the merger would make us all wealthy.”
Antonietta sighed. “We are wealthy already, Marita, and there is no advantage to our company from a merger, only on the Demonesini side. You know very well Christopher’s father even tried to court me in hopes of a merger.”
“The families will merge when Christopher marries Tasha.”
A loud crash followed by a bloodcurdling scream of pain interrupted the two women. There was no mistaking a child’s continuous scream of agony. Tasha turned toward the sound instantly. “That’s little Margurite!” She was already racing from the room as she called out the warning.
The screams emerging from the lower story were appalling. Antonietta had never heard anything like it. “Something is really wrong with Margurite.”
“She just wants attention.” Marita pressed her hands over her ears. “Tasha should make her stop that noise, no Scarletti should make such a scene. That’s Tasha’s influence. If Franco hears her, he’ll rush to her side instead of keeping his mind on business as he should!” But she was running even as she complained.
Antonietta listened to her tone, not the words. Marita was terrified, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Antonietta took her hand as they hurried down the wide hall toward the sound of the screams. She had to slow down on the sweeping staircase, not wanting to chance a misstep. Marita suddenly pulled her hand away, pressing back against the wall.
Antonietta could hear Tasha soothing the six-year-old girl. “There, there, Toni’s here now, and she’ll see to it that the doctor comes. He’ll fix you right up. Your madre is here. It’s going to be all right now.” Antonietta judged by the direction of the voice that Tasha was sitting on the floor beside the child right at the bottom of the stairway. She stepped cautiously off the last stair and stopped walking, careful not to trip over them.
Marita screamed, a terrible sound, adding to Margurite’s cries of pain. There was a thud as her body crashed to the floor.
“What is it? What happened to her, Tasha?”
“Don’t mind Marita. She fainted like she always does in a crisis. Here, Toni.” Tasha caught her hand and guided her to the floor beside the crying child. Already the screams were becoming sobs as Margurite tried to regain control. “It’s her right leg. Tell me what you think. Hold still, piccola, it will take only a moment to examine you, and Antonietta is always so gentle. Your madre is fine. She just fainted. You’ve seen her do that before.” Tasha kissed the curly head over and over, brushing at the tears running down the little face. “Watch yourself, Toni, there’s rubble everywhere.”
Antonietta ran her hands gently over the thin leg. Her breath caught in her lungs when she felt the jagged bone protruding. “Tasha is right, cara mia, we need the doctor immediately for you. You’re so brave to stay here with Tasha.” She raised her voice, knowing her assistant would be close, drawn by the screams. “Justine! We must have an ambulance at once.” Justine Travis had been her assistant for thirteen years, and she acted as her eyes and ears in the ever-changing household.
“Right away, Miss Scarletti!” Justine answered from where she hovered in the hallway. “Helena is calling straightaway.”
“Tell them to hurry, it’s most urgent!” Antonietta kept her voice calm, not wanting to alarm Margurite. “Try to wake Marita. And get Franco in here.”
Marita moaned. “Bambina. Mia bambina. How could this happen?” She kept her face averted, allowing Helena to help her to her feet. “There’s so much blood, and the bone. She’ll be crippled for life.”
“Marita!” Tasha hissed her name. “That’s not helping. Go to Vincente. He must be frightened by Margurite’s cries. Franco will attend her.”
“Yes, yes, you’re right, Tasha.” Marita pressed a hand to her stomach, turned her head, and was sick. “Grazie, take care of my poor bambina.”
Franco gathered Tasha and his daughter into his arms. “Helena, take Marita up to the room. She’s ill, and this is too much for her.”
Helena complied, wrapping her arm around Marita while one of the maids immediately began to clean the floor.
Tasha rocked back and forth in an effort to soothe both the child and herself. “Do something Toni, I can’t stand to see her in such pain,” Tasha begged in a whisper. “How did such a thing happen?”
“Hurry, Toni, take the pain from her,” Franco urged.
“Describe for me what you see.”
“The Scarletti coat of arms above Nonno’s door has come down. Didn’t we just have that inspected and secured? Margurite was coming out of Nonno’s room, and it came right down on her. She could have been killed.” There was a sob as well as anger in Tasha’s voice. “She went to visit Nonno but he was gone.”
Antonietta stiffened. The palazzo was undergoing repairs, and she had been with the inspectors when they had gone through her grandfather’s wing of the house. She knew they had paid particular attention to the Scarletti coat of arms, due to the heavy weight of it. “Don’t touch anything. We’ll let your policeman take a look around.”
All at once the home Antonietta loved, the home with which she was so familiar, took on a sinister atmosphere.
Margurite lay against Tasha, keening her distress softly while her father caressed her hair and face, murmuring how much he loved her. Tasha’s fingers tightened around Antonietta. “Do something, take her pain away, Toni. Do it right now, I can’t stand her being in so much pain.”
“The ambulance will be here soon,” Antonietta whispered back, but her hands were still on the little leg. She took a deep breath and concentrated, blocking out the sounds of weeping, blocking out the overwhelming emotions of everyone in the room. She let everything flow through her, around her, finding the deep well inside of her where she could free the energy that was so strong, so much a part of her and her heritage.
Antonietta knew Byron Justicano was capable of healing because the ability to heal was also a part of her family legacy. She couldn’t heal in the same way he did, but she could diagnose a problem, lessen the pain, and speed her people onto the path of recovery. She felt the heat building, spreading, moving through her body to her hands, to the child’s leg.
Almost at once, Margurite became quieter, her sobs reduced to sniffs and small shudders. Antonietta felt most of the tension leave Tasha’s body.
Franco leaned over and kissed his cousin. His face was wet with tears.
“Grazie, Toni. I wish I could do that.” Tasha hugged Margurite closer to her.
“The ambulance is on the way, Antonietta,” Justine said as she picked her way carefully through the mess. “I also notified the authorities. The bolts holding the Scarletti shield are completely sheared through. This was no accident.” Before her employer could protest, she hastily reassured her. “Don’t worry, I was careful not to touch anything and leave fingerprints. I’ve seen enough movies to know you’re not supposed to do that.” She crouched down close to Antonietta. Almost protectively. “This was no accident, and coming on the heels of last night, I don’t think you should take any chances.”
“I believe you’re right, Justine,” Antonietta agreed. “Please give Joie Sanders a call and let her know I need an appointment. Ask if she would be willing to come here to the palazzo.”
“I’ll set it up immediately. Sanders is renowned for her security measures, but she’s very hard to get. She might be able to recommend someone to us though. Shall I cancel your performance at the local charity event next week?”
Antonietta shook her head. “No, it’s for a good cause. But I want Nonno protected, too; that’s important, Justine. See to it that our security people keep a close eye on him until I can work something out with Sanders.”
Don Giovanni hurried into the hall, his breathing heavy from trying to run. “What is it, what has she done? Franco, is she going to be all right?” His usual authoritative voice trembled.
“We’ll take her to the hospital, Nonno,” Franco said gently. “They will fix up Margurite’s leg in no time.”
“Sit down, Nonno,” Tasha said, concerned. “Toni has taken some of the pain away, and Margurite is much more comfortable.” Quickly she hugged the child’s shoulders in reassurance. “You’re so brave, cara mia. Isn’t she brave, Toni?”
“Very brave.” Antonietta kissed the top of the child’s head, still keeping contact with the little leg in hopes of keeping the pain at bay.
The child fumbled until she managed to clutch Antonietta’s sleeve. “Am I a true Scarletti then?”
Tasha made a single sound, turned her head to glare at Franco, angry that Marita’s continual nagging made the child insecure. “You have always been a Scarletti, Margurite. You are brave and wonderful and a joy to us all. Isn’t she, Toni? Franco?”
“Margurite, you are a Scarletti through and through,” Antonietta agreed instantly.
“You have always been just like me, Margurite,” Franco said, kissing the top of the child’s head. “Hasn’t she Nonno?”
“You have your father’s eyes and his sunny disposition,” Don Giovanni assured.
“Signorina Scarletti, the ambulance is here,” Helena announced. “This way.” She waved the attendants through.
“Grazie, Helena,” Antonietta acknowledged. She trusted Justine to guide the medics around the debris and to the child.
After an examination and a brief discussion with Franco, it was agreed they must move Margurite to the hospital where her leg could be properly looked after.
“Please make certain there is no pain,” Tasha pleaded, hugging the child protectively. “We’ve waited a long time for you, and she’s very frightened.”
“We will see to it that she does not hurt more than necessary,” the attendant assured. “We can give her pain medication to help while we move her.”
Antonietta waited until Margurite was settled in the ambulance with her father and Tasha and was on her way to the hospital before attempting to sort out the damages. “Justine, make certain the area is cordoned off so no one touches anything and none of the maids attempt to clean this up before the police have a chance to take a look at everything.”
She knew her housekeeper was close by the faint perfume. “Helena, tell me of Enrico. What do you know of his disappearance?”
“Nothing, signorina, he was simply not in his room. Nothing has been taken, his clothes and personal belongings are there. He prepared today’s menus last night, and we discussed what we needed for the kitchen so I could send the boy this morning. We had a glass of wine together about ten, and he retired to his apartment as he always does. This morning he did not appear to prepare the morning meal, and I sent one of the maids to check on him. He was not in his room. When she told me this, I immediately went to his room myself. I did not see anything out of place.”
“Has anyone heard from him? Does he have a woman?”
“No.” Helena’s sigh was loud, and Antonietta could not turn down the volume. Everything seemed overly loud, even the sound of shoes on the highly polished floor. It was a bit distracting. She could hear insects buzzing and creaks and groans in the house. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance and outside, the rain was steadily drizzling.
“Would he just go off like that? He’s never done such a thing in all the years he’s been with us. This is his home. Surely someone knows where he would have gone. His friends? Someone outside the palazzo.”
“I’m sorry, signorina, but Enrico stayed only here. The people here are his family. This is his home. He didn’t go other places,” Helena insisted. “I know this to be true. Enrico told me often he preferred the palazzo. At night he sometimes wandered the grounds and looked up at the sculptures. He loved the architecture and felt it was a privilege to live in such a place.”
“Have the grounds been searched? He could have become ill and is lying somewhere hurt.”
“I should have thought of that, signorina,” Helena said. “I’ll have the servants search the grounds immediately.”
“One of my cousins should have thought of it,” Antonietta corrected. Sometimes she wondered what her family was thinking. That the palazzo magically ran itself? Not even Don Giovanni had thought to do a search of the grounds for poor Enrico. She could not imagine her chef had walked off leaving behind all of his possessions. “Grazie, Helena, as soon as you hear anything, please let me know. Meanwhile, who do we have that can help out in the kitchen? I know you’re already way too busy, and I don’t want you to fill in. Justine can hire a temporary if we don’t have an assistant that can manage.”
“I’ll move Alfredo up until Enrico returns,” Helena said. “He’s a decent chef and has worked with Enrico for the past seven years. He likes his way and is a bit difficult, taking to his bed with headaches and spasms, but I’m certain he’ll do fine until Enrico returns. And my nephew, Esteben. You remember we hired him to work in the kitchen as an apprentice chef some time ago? He has been working out well. He can step into Alfredo’s position for the time being.”
“Are you certain, Helena? Alfredo will need someone to be fast and efficient. There were one or two complaints about Esteben. I thought he didn’t care for the job.”
“Oh, no, no, signorina. Esteben is most grateful for the job. He had the big date and wanted time off, and Enrico refused him. They had words, but Esteben was only trying to impress his amore. He understands the importance of his work.”
Antonietta nodded. “Justine, please tell the bookkeeper to compensate them accordingly.”
“Yes, of course, I’ll make a note of that. You really must go to your grandfather. He was very agitated. I don’t know if he took his heart medication, but he was upset.”
“Very well.” Antonietta placed her hand lightly on Justine’s arm. “Thank you for all you do for me, Justine. I hope you know I consider you invaluable, both as my friend and as my assistant.”
“I know, Toni.” Justine was less formal when they were alone. “I love this job and the palazzo. I love that I can travel all over the world with you. Most of all, you’ve become the family I never had, so it is mutual.” She led with confidence, moving quickly around any object in their path, and Antonietta didn’t hesitate to follow her. “I was appalled at the rumor that you were attacked. Is it so?”
Antonietta inclined her head. “Yes. If it weren’t for Byron, Nonno and I would both be lost. I have bruises from the struggle.”
“Why would someone want to harm you or your grandfather?”
“Why would someone want to harm my parents?” The words slipped out before she could stop them, hung in the air between the women while they moved through the twisting hall toward the wing where the offices were located.
“I’ve never heard you say that,” Justine said. “Not once. I thought the explosion was an accident. Wasn’t it ruled an accident?”
“No.” The single admission came out a whisper. No, it hadn’t been an accident, but she would never admit it, not to herself, not to anyone else. Someone had rigged their yacht to blow in the open sea. The explosion hadn’t managed to burn or sink all the evidence. A fishing boat had been close and managed to pluck a blind five-year-old girl from the water. Antonietta had never demanded to see the report, had never thought it was necessary. If the authorities couldn’t find out who had destroyed her family, what could a child do? And when the child was grown, she had not wanted to look back.
“I’m calling Joie Sanders right away,” Justine said, a hint of panic in her voice. “Do you think you’re in immediate danger? I’m not leaving your side.”
Antonietta caught the fierce, protective note in Justine’s tone and found herself smiling. It was the exact same tone Tasha had used over Margurite.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of this,” she assured. “I’ll have plenty of protection. I’m more worried about the children now.”