A Villa in Sicily: Vino and Death

by Fiona Grace

  “Girl, you’re a mess,” he muttered, then leaned down. Was he going to … would he finally … and then she could tell Brina she’d finally experienced her first romantic kiss in Sicily?

  She closed her eyes, waiting for that pressure on her lips.

  It never came.

  She was confused for about a second. When she opened her eyes again, everything started to spin even faster. She lost control of her feet, her balance, and thought for sure she was going to hit the cold ground. But then she realized she was suddenly weightless, being lifted into the air. Mason’s arms wrapped around her, holding her to his hard chest.

  She looked up at him, stunned. Not a kiss, but still. This was … really romantic. Wasn’t it? Like he was her knight in shining armor. She stared up at him, at the stubble on that strong jaw of his, as he easily traversed the street, not pausing to look down at her. “What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.

  She’d been expecting something like, I cannot bear to see thou in distress, milady. Wilt thou accept my offer of assistance? Instead, he muttered, “I didn’t want to see you splattered on the ground, Hot Mess.”

  At that point, Audrey decided she’d probably regret this tomorrow.

  But at that moment, she didn’t care. She pressed the side of her face against his warm chest, inhaling the scent of his detergent mixed with a spicy aftershave, and sighed happily. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe. Taken care of.

  “You’re kind of cute when you’re playing my hero, Abs,” she whispered sleepily, nestling up against him.

  “Uh-huh. Right. You sound like that sister of yours.”

  “Oh. I’ve got to call Brina.”

  “I think the only thing you’ve got to do is have some water, an aspirin, and a good night’s sleep.”

  It seemed only a second later that the door to his place opened and she was deposited on his nice, fluffy sofa, among all the chenille pillows. She settled into them, feeling like she was floating on a cloud. Happy. Perfect. The specter of the murder and all her worries about her properties seemed so very far away, unable to touch or harm her.

  A glass of cold water and a pill were deposited in her hand. Mechanically, she popped the pill, sucked down the water. “Thank you, kind sir,” she slurred.

  “You ain’t gonna hurl, are you, Boston?” Mason’s disembodied voice said, as if echoing from a thousand miles away.

  She wanted to shake her head, but she was already mostly asleep.

  *

  It was the same dream, just as always. Her father, in his flannel shirt and work boots, walking from room to room. She smiled at the smell of sawdust and fresh paint as she spun in an enormous circular room, part of a turret in a Queen Anne Victorian. The windows gave a gorgeous three-sixty view of the city skyscrapers, the Back Bay, and the rest of the stately Boston brownstones in the neighborhood. The sun shone in, making her feel warm, as seagulls cried overhead.

  “Dad, this is the nicest one yet,” she said to him. “I love it.”

  He laughed. “You’d like to live here someday, huh?”

  She nodded greedily, imagining this her bedroom. Brina could have one of the many bedrooms downstairs. But this one, on the third floor, was the nicest. She could just imagine her white canopy bed, right in that corner, surrounded by windows. It’d be so—

  A floorboard creaked. With a start, she realized her dad had left her.

  She rushed forward to find him in the doorway, right near the steps. She reached for his hand, but he pulled away and fished in the breast pocket of his flannel, pulling out a cigarette.

  “Dad, don’t—”

  “I know, I know. Don’t smoke in here.” He smiled and tucked the cigarette back.

  Of course, that wasn’t what she’d wanted to say. Don’t leave. But for some reason, her mouth wasn’t allowing her to get the words out.

  He went down the stairs, and she followed him, trying to keep up.

  This time, as she followed him, she tried again. She slipped her hand in his, expecting to feel the warmth, the calluses from all the hard work he did, but the hand faded. She realized she was holding air.

  “Dad!” she cried, her heart in her throat, knowing he was about to disappear. “Please.”

  “Don’t be afraid. You have it right there.” He winked at her and pointed at her hands.

  She realized she was holding that folded piece of cardstock, the postcard he’d kept in his pocket. She gazed at the warm sunset, all those pink and orange tropical colors, melting together over the still dark water. The black mountain range. In it, she noticed a house she’d never seen before. She could only see the outline of it, but a window was ablaze with light. In it, the silhouettes of two people were there, looking out, possibly stargazing.

  She stared at the postcard wistfully, as her father took it from her hands. “You like that? Someday, we’ll go there. It’s called Montagnanera.”

  “Yes! Dad?”

  But he was falling away suddenly, fading like a vapor into the air. She reached for him, and to her horror, her hand passed right through his body.

  “No!”

  She woke up to a heavy heart, thudding uncomfortably in her chest.

  Her eyes slowly opened and she realized why. Nick was standing on her chest, peering down at her curiously.

  “Ow,” she mumbled, shoving him off. “Move move move move.”

  He scampered off of her body to the carpet as she threw off the blankets. As she did, she found a little trash bin had been propped next to her pillow. Mason’s work, obviously.

  Bits and pieces of last night came back to her as she rushed to grab a pen and paper from her purse. She found a couple business cards, but no pen, just a dried-up tube of lipstick she never wore and a roll of Lifesavers. Tossing those down, she quickly picked up her phone, opened it to the “Notes” section, and wrote down Montagnanera.

  She sighed, feeling better having gotten that out.

  That was the place. The place her father had loved. The place he had longed to escape to. The place he’d dreamed about. Montagnanera. She said the name, over and over again, then entered it into the search bar on her phone.

  A bunch of results came back, but none seemed quite right. No places, at least. Most were for an indie rock band from Europe that had had one hit in the 1990s.

  Hmm. Had she spelled it wrong? She entered in a number of possible letter combinations, trying to find a town or city or country or landmark that had the name, but all she saw were pictures of a bunch of guys with big hair. She tossed her phone down in frustration as her eyes went to the trash bin sitting beside her couch.

  Audrey winced as she remembered curling up in Mason’s arms, sniffing his T-shirt like some kind of insane person. Yes, it had been quite lovely, how well she’d fit into his arms, against his body, but she hadn’t meant to announce it to the world. She’d done that, right? And had she also called him Abs?

  Oh, my. I want to bury myself in the backyard and never come out.

  And then he’d brought her back here and thrown her down on the couch. What had he called her? Not gorgeous. Not lovely. Not charming or winsome or any of those things.

  He’d called her a hot mess.

  And right then, she felt like one. Her mouth felt like she’d swallowed a cactus and her head throbbed. Not to mention, she felt a little like …

  She grabbed the trash can and held it there in her lap, wondering if she was going to be sick.

  But nothing came out.

  Yes, she was definitely a hot mess.

  Just then, she heard footsteps on the staircase above her. She threw her blankets over her head and pretended to be asleep. She didn’t want to face Mason.

  Luckily, she didn’t have to. She could feel him hovering in the doorway, but a moment later, he opened the front door and disappeared.

  The second the door clicked closed, she sat up. Time to go back to the clinic and decide where to look for answers next.

  CHAPTER TWENTY


  Having popped two Excedrin, Audrey successfully avoided Mason, who must’ve gone for his morning run with Polpetto, and rushed to the clinic, going over the details of the case in her head. Though she’d hoped the medicine would’ve helped with the headache, by the time she got to the main square in town, her head was spinning with all the possibilities, and the dull throb hadn’t gone away.

  Plus, she still felt a little nauseated.

  But the second she got to the clinic and saw the yellow tape, she felt worse. Once again, she’d forgotten to ask the police to come so they could escort her inside.

  Groaning, she quickly texted DiNardo. I’m here and I need someone to escort me into the clinic.

  No response. This was getting to be a big pain in the butt.

  She crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently. Those poor doggies. They were probably dying for someone to take them for a walk.

  She was just about to type in another message to him, this one in all caps, when a car pulled to the curb in front of her.

  An older woman with dark curly hair streaked with gray popped out and started to scream at her in Italian, gesturing wildly.

  “Whoa. Slow down! I don’t speak Italian very …”

  The woman didn’t slow down. At first, Audrey wondered if she’d done something wrong, but then she realized the woman was more scared than upset, and pointing at something in the back of her car. When she heard the word veterinaria, she understood.

  “Yes, I’m the veterinarian. What can I help you with?” she asked, rushing to the car and peering in the window.

  The woman continued to shout, something about her car and an animal. Audrey didn’t have to understand every word to know what had happened. The poor yellow-striped cat was lying on its side in the back of the car, in obvious pain. The fur on one paw was matted with blood, and the leg was bent awkwardly.

  “Oh, poor thing!” Audrey sighed, looking up and down the street. No police.

  Yes, she wasn’t supposed to go inside without a police escort. But this was an emergency, and she couldn’t stand to see the animal in pain. She reached into her bag and pulled out her keys, pushed aside the yellow tape, and opened the door.

  “Okay. Bring her right this way,” she said, motioning to the woman.

  The woman opened the back of the car, scooped the animal up, and carried her in. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  “Oh. You speak English?” Why didn’t you say that before, lady?

  She nodded as she ushered her back into surgery and helped her settle the animal down on the table. Audrey could tell the hind leg had been clipped and was bleeding, but it didn’t look all that bad.

  “Poor girl’s probably just shaken up. I don’t think it’s broken,” she said. “What’s her name?”

  The woman looked around the place as if she’d entered a new dimension, with a mix of horror and fear. “Oh. She is not mine. I was driving into town to take care of some things, and she came out of nowhere. I couldn’t stop in time. My car hit her.”

  “I understand,” she said, opening up a drawer and pulling out a clipboard. “Could I just have you fill this out?”

  She stared at it warily. “I’m not going to have to … pay for any of this?”

  “Oh. No. It’s just standard procedure. I’m very thankful that you brought her to me. Most people wouldn’t have the decency to that these days, unfortunately.” Audrey pointed to the paper. “Just the top part. You don’t need to fill out the bottom.”

  The woman’s hands shook as she wrote her name. Poor woman. She was obviously as shaken by the incident as the cat. She was probably late forties, her tanned skin marred with age spots that suggested a love of sunbathing. Audrey watched her, having a sudden feeling of déjà vu. Had she met this woman before?

  The little cat was more alert now, and mewling slightly as Audrey felt the injury. Just as she’d suspected, the bone wasn’t broken, just bruised. Audrey took some gauze and started to wrap up the injury in a splint. “I think she’ll be fine. No collar, so likely another stray, but I’ll check for a chip. We’ll keep her and monitor her until she gets better.”

  The woman didn’t look up. “Is … this the room where the body was found?”

  Audrey nearly choked, she was so stunned by the question. “Um … excuse me?”

  Her eyes went to the form. There, on the first line, was the name: CASCARELLI, LISA.

  It was Vito’s ex-wife.

  She stared at her, still trying to comprehend. This was the woman Audrey had worried was Vito’s murderer. It was possible, definitely, considering that marital fights could often escalate. And the divorce was fresh. It seemed like more than a coincidence that she’d show herself here, so soon after his death. Was she so deranged that she’d … hit a cat just so she could come in here and poke around? See how things were going with the investigation?

  Talk about … warped.

  “Um, well—”

  “Did you find my husband’s body?”

  Audrey nodded. “Yes. As for where the body was found …” If she murdered him, she’d know exactly where she left the body. “No. Actually. It was in the room with the animals,” she lied.

  “Oh. Can I see?”

  She winced. Why the heck would this woman want to see where her husband died? Talk about morbid. Good thinking, Audrey. You brought the murderer back to the scene of the crime. The police are going to skin you alive. “Unfortunately, we really shouldn’t be in here at all. It’s a crime scene. I’m kind of breaking the law right now. But …” She motioned to the poor cat. “I felt like this was an emergency.”

  “Hmm.” The woman eyed her skeptically. “When you found him, what was he like?”

  Was this a trick question? “Uh … dead.” The woman gave her a sour look. “I mean, he had been murdered that night, and I was freaking out, so I didn’t get a very good look at him. I just saw that he was dead and called the police. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  Lisa Cascarelli shrugged. “It was sad, of course. We’d been married many years. But Vito was not a real man, you know? Not very macho. He had no backbone. I was surprised he took the job that Tomas offered, knowing what I knew of him. He didn’t like to fight. I was the one who divorced him. Found a real man and told him it was over.” She shook her head. “It was a surprise when the police showed up at my door yesterday. He didn’t deserve this. No. Not at all.”

  “So you cared about him?” Audrey asked.

  The woman laughed bitterly. “I was married to him for nineteen years. Of course I did. I didn’t want him dead. What I can’t understand is how this could’ve happened to him. He was a nice man. Did not want to ruffle feathers. His job made him do that. He only took it for the money.”

  “You don’t think he had any enemies?”

  “Of course not,” Lisa said, running her long fingernails through her curly mane of hair. “He would be the last person I’d expect this to happen to. When I heard of it, I thought maybe he was mugged, had his wallet stolen. Mussomeli is a safe place, but with all the new people coming in… who knows? But then I find out that he was found in a veterinarian office? It makes no sense to me. Do you know?”

  The woman’s eyes were slit in suspicion.

  “No. I mean, I knew him. He inspected my properties. Failed them, too, but I understood. I was just as shocked as anyone to find him. I liked him. He seemed, like you said, like a nice man.”

  “Oh, he was. Almost too nice for his own good,” she said, her eyes volleying around the place. “You say he failed this clinic?”

  “Yes. He did, the day before he died. I think the reason he was here was because he was putting a sign on the door. But one of the dog walkers I use had left the door open. And for some reason he went in. I’ve been thinking about it over and over again and I don’t know why he would have. Maybe someone lured him in there, or called him, pretending to be me …” She sighed and added, earnestly, “I do wish we could find out what happened. Until we c
an, I can’t get this place open, and all of my animals are in jeopardy.”

  “Hmmm,” she said. That seemed to appease her. “That is a shame.”

  Audrey finished her wrapping and petted the cat’s soft yellow head. “I wish I could tell you more. Did you come here hoping to get some clues as to what happened?”

  “No. But I knew where this place was. I Googled it when Vito died. So when I hit the cat I knew exactly where to go,” she said with a sheepish smile. “That was lucky.”

  Audrey nodded. It certainly was.

  “I came in from Sutera to speak with his lawyers. I’m still listed on all his papers as his next-of-kin. I must settle his affairs.” She checked her wristwatch. “Which reminds me! I must go!”

  Audrey placed the animal in a bed and said, “Well, don’t worry about this kitty. I think she’s going to be just fine. I will look after her.”

  “Grazie,” the woman said, rushing to the door. With her hand on the doorknob, she turned. “I know what you must be thinking. But I cared about Vito. Didn’t even want the alimony from him. Like I said, he was a good man. A saint, in a lot of ways. Sometimes I wish I would have treated him better.”

  Audrey nodded. “I understand.”

  “Again, thank you for your help,” she said with a smile. “You are a good doctor.”

  As Audrey watched her get into her car and leave, she mentally scrubbed “the ex-wife” off her possible list of suspects. Lisa Cascarelli was either a fantastic liar, or she didn’t know what had happened to her husband.

  That meant that somewhere out there, a murderer was running free. A shiver went down Audrey’s spine as she stepped outside and started to reattach the crime scene tape. Now she wasn’t just a suspected felon. If the police knew what she was up to, she’d probably get arrested. She had to figure out what was going on. Soon.