Delayed Death (Temptation in Florence Book 1) (11 page)

She crossed the room and perched on the windowsill which she had made especially broad. She loved her special seat, loved to sit here, looking over the tiled roofs of Florence, enjoying the soft evening air. Maybe it wasn't so hard to talk to him after all. At least he didn't interrupt her all the time. "I was willing to give up Temptation, though it made me unhappy." She paused, trying to find the right words. “I underestimated my attachment to my store. It wouldn't have been so difficult if Giulio had understood, but he expected me to give up everything." She blew onto her coffee. "I should have told him earlier, but it was so clear to me that I would continue with my profession somehow, I never even discussed it. Then, six weeks before the wedding, we happened to talk about it. I told him I wanted to start an Internet trade for underwear." She bit her lips. "He almost fainted."

Garini looked at her without twitching a muscle.

"When I realized this was a no-no, I suggested working as a freelance designer for underwear. I have a degree in fashion design, you know." Carlina picked up her cup and took a sip, then looked out of the window. "He thought that was even worse. The more I suggested, the more horrified he became." She bit her lips. "In the end, I asked him what he thought I would do all day long." She took another sip of her coffee. The September evening light lingered over the red roofs of Florence and smudged the edges a rusty red. A cloud of doves flew up, white flashes against the rosy sky.

"What did he say?" Garini took a sip from his cup, but his eyes never left her face.

Carlina gave a start. "Oh, he said I would oversee the estate. I would represent the Montassori vineyards. I would become a happy mother." She swallowed. "I loved him, but the future he painted for me . . . that wasn't me. Nothing of me would be left after that marriage. It took me one week, then I broke off our engagement. Thank God I hadn't yet found a buyer for Temptation."

"How did he take it?"

"Very well." A bitter smile curled up her mouth. "Within two months, he had organized a suitable replacement. He is married with three kids now."

"So your grandfather hit a sore point with his story about your bad past." It wasn't a question.

Carlina shrugged. "I'm quite used to all kinds of oblique and open references to my bad past, as you call it. Enough not to react with murder, I can assure you."

He placed his empty cup on the floor next to him. "What about the other family members? What did they say?"

"Oh, they thought it was a great joke."

"I meant their own stories. What did your grandfather tell them?"

Carlina shrugged. "I don't recall every single one. I know we all laughed about the one he flung at Uncle Teo."

"What did he say to him?"

"He said Uncle Teo had had a love affair with Signorina Electra in his twenties." She chuckled. "Uncle Teo laughed the hardest. He can't stand her, you know."

"Did your Aunt Maria laugh as well?"

Carlina sat up with a start.
He's a policeman. This is a murder investigation.
Stop treating him like a friend.
"Yes." Her voice sounded chilly. "But maybe you had better ask her herself."

"I will."

The front door banged open.

Carlina and Garini both jumped.

"Carlina!" Annalisa ran into the room, her silky red hair flying, and slithered to a full stop in front of them. Her gaze darted from the coffee cups to their faces. "What is this? Are you having a date?"

Carlina sighed and got up. "No. This is an interview, and every word is being recorded."

"Oh, that's all right, then." Annalisa smiled. "Carlina, could you lend me your silver scarf? I'm going out with Tonio, and it would be just perfect for my outfit."

"Sure." Carlina went to her bedroom and pulled the scarf from the basket where she kept her accessories. "Have fun. But don't forget to bring it back."

"Of course not! Thank you so much." Annalisa blew her a kiss and waved at the Commissario. "Ciao!"

The Commissario took his cup and got up too. "Your family is very . . . refreshing."

Their eyes met. "My thoughts exactly."

The door opened and Fabbiola rushed into the apartment. "Carlina!"

"Ciao, Mama."

Fabbiola's gaze darted from the Commissario to her daughter. "What have you discussed?" She put her hands on her hips and faced the Commissario. "How did you get into my daughter's apartment?"

His face remained impassive. "Your daughter opened the door."

Fabbiola turned to Carlina. "You should have told me, then I would have come with you! I don't think it's clever to talk to the police all on your own." She threw a glance at Garini. "You'll forgive my plain speaking, Commissario."

He inclined his head. "Certainly, Signora Mantoni-Ashley."

Carlina suppressed a giggle.

"This is not funny, Carlina!"

Garini went to the kitchen and placed his cup next to the sink. "I'm afraid I have to insist on talking to every one individually." His cool gaze assessed Fabbiola.

She swelled with indignation. "Certainly not."

"It's all right, Mama." Carlina placed her hand on Fabbiola's arm. "He needs to find the murderer of Grandpa. We want that too, don't we?"

"Of course!" Fabbiola crossed her arms in front of her chest. "But he won't find the murderer by talking to the family." She rounded on her daughter. "Why do you grin like that?"

Carlina bit back her smile. "I'm not grinning."

"I forbid you to talk to the police without me!"

Too late. I already told him everything.

"Maybe I can talk to you right now, Signora Mantoni-Ashley."

"What do you want to know?" Fabbiola pressed her lips together.

"Which event from the past did your father throw at you?"

Fabbiola's mouth fell open. "What?"

"First, you have to agree that this conversation will be recorded," Carlina said.

Garini's mouth twitched. "Correct. Do you agree, Signora Mantoni-Ashley?"

Fabbiola waved her hands. "Yes, yes, whatever. Now explain what you meant."

"Do you wish to take a seat?"

"No!" The strand of hair that kept coming loose from her bun fell forward. "Tell me!"

"You told me your father had a so-called bad past phase just before his death." Garini leaned his shoulder against the door frame of the kitchen.

Carlina slid onto her seat at the window without a sound.
Maybe he'll let me stay if I don't say anything.

Fabbiola lifted her eyebrows. "Yes?"

"I understand that during this phase, he told several family members about their bad deeds of the past."

"Oh, that." Fabbiola made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "What about it?"

"What event from your past did he use?"

Fabbiola's glance darted to her daughter. She licked her lips and swallowed.

Carlina blinked. Her mother embarrassed?
What on earth is going on?

Garini's light eyes never left Fabbiola's face. "Do you wish to continue this conversation without your daughter?"

Carlina held her breath.

"No." Fabbiola pulled back her shoulders and stood up straighter. "It was all nonsense anyway."

A dove landed on the roof with a scratching noise. It started to coo next to the window, the sound too loud for the silence in the room. Carlina frowned and waved her hand at it. The dove veered away and tripped around the window in a wider curve.

"Father said Carlina wasn't her father's daughter."

Carlina's hand fell into her lap as if she had been shot. Her mouth dropped open.

Garini didn't blink. "Isn't she?"

Carlina glared at him. Ruthless questions seemed to be his specialty.

"Of course she is." Fabbiola went to her daughter and put an arm around Carlina's shoulders. "Just because she has blue-green eyes doesn't mean she's from another man."

"What color were your husband's eyes?" Garini looked straight into Fabbiola's brown eyes.

"Blue."

Something hard and cold formed inside Carlina's stomach. Dad's eyes had been light-brown, amber. She would have to take his picture off the wall the minute the Commissario left her apartment.
Oh, my God. What is going on here?

"I see." Garini's voice sounded mild. "When did the conversation about your daughter's father take place?"

Fabbiola shrugged. "At lunch, in Benedetta's kitchen, a few days before Emma's wedding."

Nobody told me about it.
Carlina felt as if a black pit opened in front of her feet.
I thought I knew everything about us.

"I don't remember the exact date," Fabbiola spread her hands in an apologetic gesture, but she remained close to Carlina.

Garini nodded. "Do you remember what he said to the other family members?"

Carlina could feel her mother's rigid body softening.
Don't relax, Mama. This guy is dangerous.

Fabbiola frowned in thought. "He said something about Angela."

"Angela?"

"My niece Angela, who married the young doctor Marco."

Garini nodded. "Yes, I remember. What did he say?"

"He said Angela had blackmailed Marco into the marriage."

Carlina remembered the blank look Marco had given his wife.
Blackmailed into marriage?
She shouldn't have stayed. She didn't want to hear all these terrible things about her family.

The Commissario frowned. "Did he say how she blackmailed him?"

"No." Fabbiola shrugged. "It was all nonsense anyway."

"Anything else you remember?"

Fabbiola shook her head.

"Thank you." The Commissario looked at her for a moment, his gaze cool. "I now wish to talk to the other family members."

"You have to come downstairs to do that." Fabbiola pushed back her strand of hair. "Benedetta is preparing Ravioli and can't spare the time."

Annalisa opened the door to Benedetta's apartment the instant they arrived on the landing. "There you are! I was just going to call you. Dinner is ready. Do you wish to join us, Commissario?"

Carlina closed her eyes.
Oh, no.

Fabbiola hissed in her breath.

"Thank you, that would be nice." The Commissario smiled.

Carlina rolled her eyes. Of course he could smile at her lovely cousin. But wait until he started to grill her. Annalisa would wonder if he was the same man the minute he concentrated on her every secret with those hawk-like eyes.

Carlina waited until Garini and her mother had gone down to the kitchen, then she sidled up to Annalisa and said under her breath, "Why did you invite him? You said he's scary!"

Annalisa threw her a surprised glance. "I thought you liked him."

"Me?" It came out as a yelp.

"Yes. Besides, we always invite everybody who's in the house when dinner is ready."

"Not the police." Carlina threw his back a dark look.

"I'm sorry." Annalisa pulled at her lower lip with her pearly teeth. "But I can't un-invite him now. What should we do?"

Carlina shrugged. "Eat Ravioli, I guess."

Carlina chose a chair as far away from the Commissario as possible. Unfortunately, she could still see him very well. The kitchen smelled of garlic, hot butter and fried sage. It smelled of home. Carlina took a deep breath, but the feeling of wellness she usually got at home didn't filter through her fears.

"Carlina, pass me the Parmesan, will you?" Fabbiola nudged her daughter.

"Sure." Carlina felt like a puppet, stiff and awkward.
This is the Muppet Show
, she thought.
Mantoni-style. Watch us all play the piece to perfection. If only we remembered our roles.

"So." Benedetta ladled molten butter and crisp sage leaves onto her Raviolis. "Do you have a sweetheart, Signor Garini?"

Carlina choked.

"No." The Commissario met Benedetta's searching gaze with one of his unemotional stares.

"Ha." Uncle Teo waved his fork. "That's not very clever of you. A man needs a woman."

Exactly
. Carlina suppressed a grin and picked up another piece of pasta. She loved the taste of spinach with Ricotta. And she loved to see the Commissario in dire straits.

"How about your family?" Benedetta's red mouth disappeared behind a fork-load full of Ravioli.

Ah, the big interrogation.
Carlina started to enjoy herself.
How's that for turning tables, Commissario?

Benedetta swallowed her Ravioli and returned to battle, ignoring the Commissario's silence. "Do your parents live in Florence, Commissario?"

"My father lives in Fiesole." Garini continued to eat with unmitigated appetite.

"That's not too far away. Do you see him often?" Benedetta was like a dog with a bone; she chewed with relentless intensity.

The Commissario speared his food with his fork. "These Raviolis are very good, Mrs. Mantoni-Santorini."

"Please call me Benedetta."

Carlina's food got stuck in her throat.
Hello?
Had Benedetta forgotten who he was? He wasn't Annalisa's latest boyfriend or Ernesto's current buddy. He was the Commissario who was trying to find a murderer within the family!

"My name is Stefano." The Commissario smiled.

Damn. When he smiled, he looked almost human. From the corner of her eyes, Carlina saw Annalisa's eyebrows going up. Oh, no. What if Annalisa started to picture herself in love with the Commissario? How long had she been going out with Tonio? Four weeks? Five? Damn. That was about the time it took to make her bored with a guy.

"And your mother?" Annalisa flashed a hundred-watt smile across the table.

Great.
Now her cousin had joined the big interrogation. Carlina almost felt sorry for the Commissario.

The Commissario regarded Annalisa for a moment, then he said without once drawing breath, "My mother died when I was twenty-one. She had cancer, but thank God she didn't suffer for long. I have one sister who lives in Switzerland. She works as an event manager at a luxury hotel. My hobbies are playing the saxophone and reading science magazines. My shoe size is forty-three, and I have lived in Florence for ten years."

Carlina burst out laughing.

The family stared at her in consternation. "What's so funny?" Fabbiola frowned at her daughter.

"Nothing." Carlina met the Commissario's gaze. The glimmer of a smile in his light eyes filled her with a hum of happiness. She averted her gaze.