A Fashion Felon in Rome (8 page)

“You’re right.  That is
very strange.” Massimo’s brow creased in contemplation.  “How did she respond?”

“She didn’t.  She just walked away.  See, she’s standing over there by herself.” I pointed to the opposite end of the pier where Evelyn hugged herself tightly even though there was no chill in the balmy air.

“We need to have a conversation with her.  Come on, let’s go.” Interlacing his fingers with mine, Massimo headed towards Evelyn as I tried not to think about how comfortable his touch was starting to feel. 

Lost in her own thoughts, Evelyn didn’t notice when we were standing directly in front of her.  “We didn’t want you to be standing here all alone,” Massimo explained as Evelyn’s head popped up in surprise.

“Oh! You guys scared me.  I didn’t even hear your footsteps coming over here.” Her voice was trembling.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to startle you,” Massimo apologized.  “Obviously, you’re feeling sad.  I’m sure Tomaso’s parents would appreciate a few kind words from someone who actually cares.”

“Oh no, there’s no way I could talk to them!” Evelyn protested, shaking her head wildly.

Massimo’s expression changed as he looked intently into her glistening eyes.  “I’m sorry.  I know it’s absolutely none of my business.  But was there something going on between you and Tomaso?”

Affronted, Evelyn smacked a hand over her heart and snapped, “No! I’m engaged to be married, not that it’s any of your business anyway.” Turning to me, she added, “You should teach your boyfriend how to talk to people!”

Flouncing away, Evelyn hurried in the direction of the parking lot.  A line of taxis was waiting, and she quickly hopped into the first one.  I tapped Massimo on the shoulder, pointing towards Leonard, who was watching the taxi pull away.

“Look at the expression on his face! He looks furious! But why?” I whispered frantically.

“I have no idea,” Massimo said, running a hand through his hair in a clear sign of frustration.

“And it’s not like we can play detective with him.  He and Sophia both know what this ‘party’ is all about.  And he knows you’re not really my boyfriend.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t talk to him,” Massimo argued, pulling me along with him as he targeted Leonard.

But as we bounded towards him, Leonard ran into the parking lot, climbing into his car and escaping any potential interrogation.  “Damn it!” Massimo swore.  “We’ve got to go after him! See where he’s going!”

“I’m guessing that he’s following Evelyn.  But still, the question is why?” I tried to match Massimo’s brisk pace, feeling my lungs contract with the exertion.

“And the other question is how?  How are we going to track Leonard down? There are a thousand cars in Rome that look exactly like the one he just disappeared in.” Massimo jerked the passenger door of his car open as I piled inside.

“Then maybe it’s not a smart idea to try to chase him!” I said breathlessly as Massimo fired up the engine.

“No, we at least have to try.  Something is very fishy, and I need to find out what it is.”

“You mean
we
need to find out what it is,” I corrected.  “I’m in this just as much as you are now.”

“Yes, I suppose you are,” Massimo grinned briefly before masking his features again with an impartial stare.

“Just don’t drive like a maniac,” I pleaded.

“
Bellissima
, everyone in Rome drives like a maniac,” Massimo retorted, rocketing onto the road and looking in every direction for Leonard’s car.  “If you don’t drive like a maniac in this city, people will think you’re a maniac!” To punctuate his point, Massimo pounded the accelerator, whizzing away from the waterfront at a death defying speed of 90 miles per hour.

Chapter 9

As Massimo pounded the gas pedal, I lost all concept of time and location.  At such a vertigo-inducing pace, I could have been in Prague or Paris…or Pluto.  I really had no idea.  The seatbelt clung to my chest, digging into my sternum and making me feel like I was being smothered.

Abruptly, Massimo struck the steering wheel with the back of his hand, bringing the car to a screeching halt at the side of the road.  “What’s wrong? Why did you stop?” I asked as my pulse kept jumping even though we were no longer in motion.

“Because it’s pointless.  We’ll never catch him.  I can’t even see his car, and I have no idea where he went off to.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure he was going after Evelyn.  So maybe if we track down Evelyn, we’ll corner Leonard too,” I suggested as Massimo nodded his approval.

“Another good idea that I’m too frazzled to come up with.  You’re an incredible partner, Gianna.”

Massimo’s constant praise for my accidental detective skills was overwhelming.  “Are you trying to recruit me?” I grinned.  “Seriously, it feels like I’m being recruited.”

“I guess you could put it that way,” Massimo answered cryptically as he whipped out his cell phone.  “Is Evelyn staying at your hotel?” 

“Not that I know of.  Or at least, I haven’t run into her there,” I replied as Massimo started dialing on his phone.  “Who are you calling?”

“The police.  They’ll be able to tell me which hotel Evelyn is staying in,” he explained.

“I have a better idea,” I asserted.

“Oh, I’ll bet you do.  What’s your idea now,
Signorina
Sherlock?” He grinned in that wickedly handsome way that rendered me unable to concentrate.

“Um, well, I just wanted to look up her name on my smart phone and see what comes up,” I unveiled my latest idea, not sure why I felt that searching for her name online would reap tangible results.  “Evelyn Flowers, let’s see here.” I punched the name into my phone as Massimo slipped his own back into his pocket and peeked over my shoulder.

“Why don’t you click on that result?” Massimo pointed to a people database that had appeared at the top of the heap.

“Okay.” I clicked on the database, stunned to view the results.  “
This is unbelievable! She lives in Rome!  Look, Massimo, her address is listed in Rome!”

“Yes, I see that.” Massimo appeared fascinated by the revelation.  “But the address is private.” He clicked on a link only to be redirected to a page prompting for credit card information.  “We don’t need to pay to see her address.  All I need to do is call
Detective Cantino, and he’ll give me the info.”

As Massimo retrieved the phone from his pocket, I envisioned the sparkling diamond ring on Evelyn’s finger.  Was it possible…I stopped myself from leaping to conclusions.  Or at least I tried to.  Placing a hand over
Massimo’s, I blocked him from making a call.  “Hold on.  Before you call the detective.  Something just occurred to me.”

“What?” Massimo asked urgently.

“Evelyn is engaged.  And now I’m wondering if Leonard is her fiancé.  Why else would he act so possessive around her?  And he lives here in Rome too as Sophia’s assistant.  Plus, they’re both from England.” As I spoke the words, I felt like there could be no other explanation.

“That does seem reasonable.  But why wouldn’t she have introduced Leonard as her fiancé?”

“Probably because it would seem like nepotism.  If she really is his fiancée, then he must be the one who got her a spot in Sophia’s fashion competition.  As Sophia’s groveling assistant, Leonard could probably squeeze a favor out of her from time to time,” I glued the fragments together as Massimo nodded fervently.

“I think you’re onto something.” Our fingers brushed provocatively as he gently lifted my hand off of his and resumed dialing.  “Hey
Giancarlo, this is Massimo. 
Ascolta
, I need some information
pronto
.  Can you look up Evelyn Flowers’ address in Rome?” Massimo was silent for a few beats before turning to me and whispering, “He’s looking it up right now.”

I nodded, shivering all the way down to my toes as I sensed that the investigation was about to take a crucial turn.  My pulse still erratic, I turned to Massimo who looked as anxious as I felt.  His strong Roman profile was etched in shades of contemplation and analysis.

“Okay, great, that’s all I needed to know.” Massimo hung up the phone and immediately merged back onto the road.

“You got the address?”

“Yes, I did,” he said triumphantly.  “47
Via del Sole
.  And that’s our next destination, darling.”

***

Evelyn’s house was located in the chic beach town of Stella Polare, about an hour’s drive outside of Rome.  During the ride, I tried not to dwell on Massimo’s cozy reference to me as “darling” just as I struggled not to focus on how long it had been since Richard had gotten in touch.  As much as it stung me to acknowledge, I found my boyfriend to be less and less on my mind.  And I couldn’t help but wonder if the feeling was mutual. 

At my request, Massimo stopped at a
gelato
stand halfway through the ride to Stella Polare.  I hadn’t eaten a morsel that night, and I was starting to feel faint.  Nothing could be better than a strawberry
gelato
sundae to calm my nerves and give me a much needed boost of strength.

“This
gelato
is amazing,” I purred.  “How’s your mocha cone?”

“
Delizioso
,” he replied, wiping his lips with a napkin.  “Now let’s get back on the road.  I don’t want to lose any more time.”

“Okay,” I sighed contentedly, sated from the sweet treat.

After indulging my taste buds, I passed the remainder of the ride ravishing my vision with moonlit waters and sandy promenades.  New York had its share of picturesque beaches, especially in the posh Hamptons, but Italy’s shores were simply magical.  I didn’t know if it was the full moon glowing over everything in sight or if it was the arresting man at my side, but my eyes had never glimpsed such a magnificent display of nature.

“We’re here,” Massimo
finally announced, slipping into tour guide mode.  “Stella Polare is a spectacular beach.  I highly recommend you visit before going back to New York.  Just be careful of the swindlers.  There are always men combing the beaches with fake designer scarves and other things trying to sell to the pretty ladies.”

“I think I’d be able t
o spot a knockoff,” I grinned knowing I could recognize a phony Fendi in my sleep.

Massimo returned the grin.  “Sorry.  I almost forgot that you’re in the fashion world.  I’ve started to think of you as a private investigator like myself.”

“Well, I’m not,” I protested.

“So what’s your expert opinion on my clothes? What do you think of how I dress?” Massimo asked impishly.

How you dress? I only want to know about how you undress
…Banishing the wicked thought from my mind, I replied, “You dress like a rebel.  Leather and jeans.  Like an American rebel.  Very stylish.”
And incredibly sexy.

He grinned as we both glanced at the modest single
-story cottage that faced the ocean.  In the dim twilight, it appeared empty, except for one window near the back that shone a sliver of light.

“I think she’s home,” Massimo said as I craned my neck towards the driveway.

“And so is Leonard! Look, isn’t that his car in the driveway?!”

Massimo’s eyes flashed as he followed my gaze to the driveway.  “That’s definitely his car!
Yes, that was the car he drove away in!” He gripped the door handle, apparently ready to fly and land on Evelyn’s doorstep.

“But where’s
her
car?” I wondered aloud.

“She took a cab back from the party,” Massimo reminded.

“That’s right,” I recalled.  “And maybe Leonard and Evelyn share a car.  I mean, maybe they live here together?”

“They must.  There’s no way an unemployed designer could afford a house on the beach.  Even a house as small as this one,” Massimo reasoned.

“So what are we going to do now? Just storm the house?” I inquired.

“I was hoping
you
would answer that question, boss,” Massimo smirked.

“You’re kidding now, right?” I asked doubtfully.

“No, because honestly, I don’t think either one of us knows what we’re going to do next.  We just have to do it.”

“Wing it,” I added, exhaling nervously as Massimo’s smirk intensified.  “What? You look like you want to laugh at me.”

“No…it’s just that you have a little
gelato
on your mouth,” he said humorously.

“Where? Here?” Embarrassed, I dabbed my lips with a napkin.

“No, right
there
,” Massimo lightly pressed two fingers onto the corner of my mouth as I reflexively pulled away.

“I can do it,” I scolded as his mood instantly switched to serious.

“Okay, let’s go now.  Stop wasting time,” he grunted, barreling out of the car.

I hurriedly shoved myself out of the car, catching up to
Massimo who was walking an infuriating two paces ahead.  As I slid alongside him, we both watched as the back door of the beach cottage swung open.  Massimo held me back, his arm like a crowbar across my chest.  “Don’t move a muscle,” he directed in a harsh whisper.