No Stone Unturned: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Eleven

by Julie Moffett

  I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity and her flaming self-respect. And it’s these things I’d believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn’t all she should be. I love her and that is the beginning of everything.

  “You’re the beginning of my everything,” he whispered. “I promise you that by my actions, or inactions, I will not purposely hurt you. That would be a wound to myself from which I could not recover. I’ll work on the matter of forgiveness, too, if you’ll stand by me.”

  Lexi tightened her arms around him. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you from the moment I set foot in Italy. You’re not alone, Slash, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Lexi

  We stayed in Gaeta for another two hours, catching what Slash called a snack—but it was a full meal to me. We shared a plate of red shrimp pasta at an outdoor café overlooking the water, and I drank a glass of fruity red wine called Rosso Piceno. Slash skipped the wine and opted for coffee. He was a lot more relaxed than he had been an hour ago. Unloading that difficult inner turmoil, sharing a burden that deep, had to have offered him some relief. I couldn’t imagine how hard and lonely it must have been to keep the guilt, regret and pain locked inside him all this time.

  He downed the last of his coffee, looking out at the ocean. “It’s time to go.” His voice sounded reluctant, like he didn’t want to leave, but knew we had to. It was how I’d felt leaving Salerno. We’d now forged a unique and important piece of our relationship in both cities, so leaving when our connection was fragile was hard for both of us.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “Sperlonga. I could use some downtime to review the data and figure out a good strategy to move forward.”

  “I’m with you on that,” I said. We desperately needed to regroup and focus our efforts. Nonna’s house was the perfect place to do that. She represented good memories of family life, and would remind him of the love and stability his adoptive family had offered when he needed it most.

  We didn’t talk as we drove along the Amalfi coast, enjoying the spectacular views. The sun was softening over the horizon as the afternoon deepened, the cobalt sky adding a gorgeous backdrop to the setting. I glanced at Slash as he drove. His dark sunglasses hid his eyes, but his black hair was tousled by the wind, and a five-o’clock shadow covered most of his cheeks and jaw. He was probably the most strikingly handsome man I’d ever seen in real life. But it was what lay beneath—the complex, driven and caring person who’d been through so much in his thirty-three years—that I responded to the most.

  I was looking forward to seeing Nonna again. The only downside to the visit would be her cat, Principessa, who hated me and refused to use her litter box when I was around—something I was assured never happened with anyone else. I wasn’t sure why animals acted so strangely around me. My hypothesis was I must emit an odd vibe, because they either hated me, wanted to dominate me or slobbered all over me. There didn’t seem to be a middle ground.

  As we drove into town, I admired the gorgeous stretch of white beach and rocky cliffs. Much like the towns of Gaeta and Licosa, tourists didn’t overly crowd the streets of Sperlonga. Slash stopped at the market on the way to Nonna’s house, picking up some flowers, a bottle of wine and catnip for Principessa.

  We finally pulled into the driveway of a small house with yellow trim. Colorful flowers spilled out of the window boxes in the front. When I got out of the car, Slash came around and offered me his elbow. I tucked my bandaged hand into the crook of his arm and, as a united front, we headed to the door. Slash didn’t knock, he just went in.

  “Nonna?” he called out from the foyer.

  “Chierchetto?” She stepped out of the kitchen into the foyer, astonishment on her face. Slash’s grandmother was a tiny bundle of energy, her silver hair pulled back in a tight bun. She wore a cheerful yellow apron with red flowers and red sandals. From an earlier visit, I knew chierchetto was her favorite nickname for him and meant “little altar boy.”

  With a cry of delight, she rushed forward and cupped Slash’s cheeks, kissing them with an abundance of enthusiasm, then she turned to me with laser intensity. Before I could decide if this were a good thing or not, she threw her arms around me and squeezed me with the strength of ten linebackers. Just when I was sure I’d die of asphyxiation, she enthusiastically kissed my face. I’d barely recovered when she snatched my hand, presumably to examine the engagement ring. Instead she saw the bandage.

  She looked back and forth between us, noting Slash’s bandages, too.

  Slash started to speak, and I presumed he was explaining what had happened. She must have asked a dozen questions before he finally pulled my engagement ring out of his pocket where he was keeping it safe. She examined it, then pressed her hand to her breast, her eyes filling with tears.

  “Sono così felice per voi.”

  Slash translated. “She’s so happy for us both. She’s also sorry to hear about our injuries, proud of us for saving the people at the parade, thrilled to hear of our engagement, and honored that you accepted her wedding ring and the ring of her grandmother before her.”

  “Please tell her I’m honored to carry on the tradition and I love the ring,” I said. “I’m sorry I’m not wearing it at this moment. Grazie mille, Nonna.”

  After Slash told her, it earned me more kisses and squeezes. Then she snatched the flowers and wine from Slash’s hand and pushed us toward the kitchen.

  “She’s going to fix us an early dinner,” Slash said.

  “We just ate,” I reminded him.

  Slash raised an eyebrow. “And your point is?”

  “Apparently no point whatsoever.” If Nonna was cooking, I was eating. I took a seat at the kitchen table and Slash sat next to me. “Something smells heavenly in here. It always smells heavenly in Nonna’s kitchen.”

  “That is an indisputable truth,” Slash agreed.

  Nonna brought us each a chilled glass of wine. I took a sip. The wine had a tart taste, but it was cold, refreshing and surprisingly good.

  “Mmmm,” I said. “What is this?”

  “Brachetto.” Slash tipped his glass to mine. “Salute.”

  “Can I say I’m really glad you’re Italian?”

  He grinned as he took another drink and began chatting with Nonna. She was bustling around the kitchen, stirring things on the stove and chopping up vegetables. I noticed a small oxygen tank tucked in one corner of the kitchen and wondered if she were feeling okay. She seemed like she was moving around without a problem, but I wasn’t a doctor, so how would I know?

  As she and Slash spoke, accompanied by an increasing amount of hand gestures, I heard my name mentioned on and off. I had no idea how much he was telling her about our current situation. I hoped he would update me later, so I knew what he’d said.

  Slash helped Nonna with something at the counter when Principessa strolled into the kitchen, holding her gray head high. She sniffed the air, saw me and immediately gave me the evil eye. I’d kind of hoped she had forgotten about the bad history between us but apparently she hadn’t. She carefully avoided me, but wound herself around Slash’s legs until he picked her up and stroked her beneath her chin. He murmured something to the cat and pulled the catnip out of his pocket. She purred and gave me a triumphant look as if to say, “Ha!”

  I almost asked Slash for my engagement ring so I could show her what I had, but then I remembered I was dealing with a cat. Luckily, at that moment Nonna put a plate of food in front of me. It smelled so delicious I almost face-planted in it, and I wasn’t even hungry.

  “Wow, what’s this?” I asked, picking up my fork.

  “Skillet ravioli and cheese with spicy Italian sausage,” Slash said.

  “It looks and smells delicious.”

  Slash translated and Nonna beamed. They both sat t
here looking at me with anticipation, so I awkwardly scooped up a bite, trying to avoid getting sauce on my bandage. I blew on it and took a taste, a thread of cheese hanging from my chin.

  “She’s a cooking genius.” I chewed, took a moment to savor the taste in my mouth, then swallowed. “Do cheese limits even exist in Italy? Because this food is amazing. Does your mom cook like this, too?”

  “She’s an excellent cook. I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

  Pleased by my words, Nonna piled a plate for Slash and set it on the table. He put the cat down, washed his hands the best he could with the bandages on them and joined me in eating. Nonna sat down, too, watching us eat and sipping black coffee. She asked Slash question after question. Finally, he stopped to translate.

  “She wants to know when the wedding is going to be held,” Slash finally said. “She’s asking a lot of questions about the preparation.”

  “Oh.” I stopped in mid-shovel. “What did you say?” There was nothing to say. The only planning we’d done had been for the engagement party and I needed a lot more downtime—possibly forever—before I planned another social gathering.

  “I told her we’re working on it.”

  “But we’re not.”

  He smiled. “But we will.”

  I set my fork down. “That was a lot of talking for saying we’re working on it.”

  He picked up his wineglass, took a sip. “I’m Italian. I’m providing as much detail to the non-details as possible.”

  “Wait. You don’t think she’s going to ask me any awkward questions while we’re here, do you?”

  He lifted his glass to me, his lips twitching with amusement. “I think there’s an excellent chance awkward questions will arise.”

  I sighed. “I was afraid of that.” I finished off the rest of my wine in case I needed the courage. “Did she ask why we’re here?”

  “She did. I told her we’re here to announce our engagement in person, and we have a little business as well. She didn’t ask further, and I didn’t provide additional information.”

  After we finished lunch, we both drank a glass of limoncello, a lemon-infused vodka that Slash insisted would help me digest. It was so strong it made my eyes water, but I finished it all. By the time I finished that and we helped Nonna clean the kitchen, I was in a complete food coma. I staggered to the living room and collapsed on the couch from the effort.

  “I could die happy right now,” I said with a sigh.

  Slash followed me to the couch, plopping down beside me. Nonna and Principessa joined us. Nonna sat in an armchair with a pretty crocheted blanket and Principessa, not surprisingly, snuggled up in Slash’s lap. She made sure her rear end faced me, tail whipping my arm every once in a while as if to remind me Slash had his hands on her, not me.

  Nonna and Slash spoke for a few minutes, until Slash suddenly stood and put the cat on the floor, much to her dismay. He headed over to a bookshelf and pulled something off a bottom shelf.

  “Hey, cara, look at this. Nonna kept my old Xbox.”

  I had almost fallen asleep, so his words startled me awake. “An Xbox?”

  “Not just an Xbox. It’s an original Xbox, European edition, dated 2002. You want to game on it?”

  Was that a trick question? Did he even have to ask? “Does it still work?”

  “Want to find out?”

  “Of course. You got any games for it?”

  “I do. Come look.”

  I sat on the floor next to him sorting through the games. We chose Halo 2, and Slash hooked up the machine to Nonna’s television. It worked. I hadn’t played the game in ages, but once I reminded myself how to use the clunky controller, it was like riding a bike. After a brief warm-up, we started playing in earnest. This was exactly what we needed—mindless fun to clear our heads, to get to a place where we could determine the next best move.

  Nonna watched us for a bit, then disappeared back into the kitchen. I hoped she wasn’t making a snack. As magical as her cooking was, I was stuffed beyond my limit.

  Slash kicked my butt for most of the game, something I blamed on slow reflexes due to the alcohol and food, but I made a steady comeback until I was almost even with him. At some point, he took a break to get something to drink. I was sitting on the floor, so I leaned back against the couch, stretching out my legs. Principessa strolled past me, examining the television, then checking out the Xbox.

  She sniffed around and then put her paw on the machine. She stood a little too close for comfort to the eject button for my taste.

  “Hey.” I waved my hand at her. “Move away from the Xbox.” I got on my hands and knees and started crawling toward her, when she suddenly jumped onto the box. One paw landed squarely on the eject button. The game ejected, erasing our progress and scores.

  She streaked away as Slash walked back in the room, holding two glasses.

  He looked at the television and then me. “Where’s our game?”

  I tried to calculate the chance that he was going to believe this. “Principessa ejected the disk.”

  “The cat?”

  “Yes, the cat. She jumped on the eject button.”

  Slash set down the glasses and narrowed his eyes at me. “Are you sure you didn’t press the eject button because you were losing?”

  “Hey, I was almost even with you, and the momentum was mine. It was the cat. She’s got it in for me.”

  “The cat?”

  Principessa strode into the room, wound around Slash’s legs and gave me a haughty stare. I pointed at her. “See, she’s mocking me.”

  Slash shook his head, clearly thinking I was nuts. “Come on. Let’s start over.” He knelt on the floor in front of the machine and pressed the game back in. “Now we go to the best of twenty rounds.”

  “Fine by me.”

  I swear the cat was smirking at me as she stalked out of the room and I knew full well what that look meant.

  War.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Lexi

  Slash and I took an evening stroll down by the beach. I’d been doing a lot of thinking and I knew he had, too.

  “How long are we staying?” I asked as we walked past a family of four packing up from a day at the beach. The father carried one kid in each arm while the mother had a cooler, a bag of sand toys and an oversize beach bag. The mother smiled at Slash as we passed, and he murmured a polite hello.

  “Just tonight,” he said. “I’m needed at the NSA and I’m sure X-Corp wants you back, too. No matter what, we both need to be back at work on Monday. I’ve been going through Lazo’s financials and found some things that are not exactly aboveboard. But I don’t think that’s going to be enough to discredit him.”

  “Actually, I’ve been thinking about taking a different approach.” I watched him carefully, wondering how he’d take my suggestion. “As uncomfortable as it may be learning more about Father Armando’s past might be useful, as well.”

  His jaw tightened slightly, but he nodded. He was smart enough to see the value in gathering as much information as we could, no matter how painful. “Agreed. Let’s work on it tonight.”

  When we came home from our stroll, Nonna was sitting at the kitchen table reading a book while hooked up to her oxygen machine. She set it aside when she saw us.

  “Is she okay?” I whispered to Slash in concern.

  “She’s fine. Her oxygen levels have been low, so the doctor prescribed oxygen whenever her levels fall below a certain threshold.”

  “But otherwise, she’s good?”

  “She’s good. Don’t worry, cara. She’ll probably outlive us both.”

  He didn’t seem concerned about it, so I dialed back the worry. Somewhere along the line, I had become quite fond of Nonna, and for more than just her cooking. Although we couldn’t communicate well, we genuinely seemed to like each other.
In my case that was a near miracle, since I generally didn’t like most people.

  After Nonna retired for the evening, Slash and I set up our computers in the sewing room, which was also my bedroom for the night. Even though Slash and I were officially engaged, out of respect for Nonna, I insisted we sleep in separate bedrooms. We set to work on our respective hacks. Slash already had a good handle on Lazo’s financials, but he dug deeper into Lazo’s life while I focused on Father Armando. Neither of us was sure exactly what we were looking for, so we set up several automated searches to assist us and hoped something would pop. Unfortunately, neither of us found anything of great interest, so we let the searches continue and decided to call it a night.

  “Are you sure I can’t stay here with you tonight?” Slash murmured.

  “Don’t you remember what happened last time? Nonna walked in on us. Behave yourself for one night. It won’t hurt.”

  “So she says,” he grumbled, but went off to another room.

  I got ready for bed. There was no air-conditioning, so I was sweating by the time I lay down on the bed, which was really Nonna’s oversize floral couch. The cushions were lumpy and the door to the room wouldn’t close tightly. There wasn’t much I could do about it, so I lay atop the sheets in nothing more than a tank top and underwear, and tried not to think about how hot I was. Slash was probably used to it, but I was ready to rip off all my clothes and sleep in a shower of cold water.

  I was pretty sure I’d never fall asleep, but while I was wishing I could be eating ice cream while swimming in the Arctic Ocean, I finally drifted off.

  Cardinal Jacopo Lazo

  Jacopo got the call from Julian Koenhein at about eight thirty at night when he was at his home residence.

  “Your Eminence, he has been spotted at his grandmother’s house in Sperlonga along with his fiancée.”

  He flicked the television to mute and sat up straighter on the couch. “Excellent. Do what needs to be done to get that sample. I do not want any excuses or failure this time. Take all precautions and make sure it comes directly from him this time. We can’t waste any more time trying to get it off a glass or a hairbrush. Do I make myself clear?”