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Grace Takes Off

Page 27

by Julie Hyzy


  Just before Williamson called the meeting to order, I pulled Hillary to the side. “For what it’s worth,” I said, “I know what you’re going through.”

  Her eyes narrowed, gauging my sincerity.

  It was painful to admit, but I had to let her know she wasn’t alone. “Not that long ago, a man played on my emotions to try to harm Bennett.”

  She gave the barest of nods.

  “All I want to say, Hillary, is that I get it. It hurts. And I’m sorry you had to go through it.”

  “You mean that?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “The one good thing that came out of it is that I’m stronger now. I’ll bet you’ll feel the same way soon. You deserve better.” I patted her on the shoulder. “Give yourself time, though. It’s still too raw right now, isn’t it?”

  The tip of her nose went pink. She looked ready to respond, but at that moment Williamson called for our attention and we settled ourselves. As the hazy, late afternoon sun moved low in the sky, casting my office in a cool glow, the detective walked back and forth in front of my desk while Bennett, Hillary, Frances, Tooney, and I sat in chairs like students waiting for a lecture we were actually interested in.

  “Now that we have key players in custody, we’re able to put the story together,” Williamson said. “Irena and Rudolfo had been working together for years. Together they engineered a falling-out between her brother and father. She worked hard to make both believe she was on their side against the other. Truth is, she lied to both.” Pointing to me, he said, “Your guess about Pinky, aka Diane Waters, was right on. She was pulled into cooperation with promises of a fabulous future with the handsome Rudolfo. We unearthed one of Diane’s best friends, who was happy to tell us about the handsome man Diane thought would whisk her away from her unhappy life. Truth was . . .”

  Here it comes. I slid a sideways glance at Hillary.

  “Rudolfo was Irena’s second husband. Seems they met while he was employed at her father’s villa. To keep their relationship secret, they divorced but maintained a clandestine affair.”

  Hillary’s shoulders dropped almost imperceptibly. Her chin came up, though. I thought that was a good sign.

  “Let me get everything straight,” I said. “Gerard Pezzati never stole from his father.”

  “Correct.”

  “What about Angelo, Signor Pezzati’s assistant? Or Cesare, his art-collecting expert? Were either of them in on it?”

  Williamson had stopped walking back and forth across the room. He stood now with his arms folded. “Both completely clean. As is the former cook, Antoinette. In order to cover her tracks, Irena needed to maintain the illusion that Gerard had connections to someone inside the house. That’s where our friend Pinky comes in. Working as a maid there, she set up bogus e-mail accounts and made sure they were found when the accountant noticed that money was missing. Irena masterminded the whole thing, but Rudy ensured Pinky’s cooperation.”

  “What about that Adam fellow?” Frances asked. “I can’t believe that his band, SlickBlade”—she said it with dripping disdain—“happened to run into Pinky and happened to invite her on their flight. That’s too much coincidence for me.”

  “That’s where Gerard Pezzati comes in,” Williamson said. “Remember, he trusted his sister. They talked and e-mailed quite often. Irena knew that her brother had a group heading back to the States. She and Rudy made a lot of promises to Pinky. All they asked her to do was poison Bennett’s food.” He set his mouth in a thin line.

  “And our original pilot, who was arrested for assault?” I asked. “Was that all part of the plan?”

  Williamson nodded, again like a teacher. I felt like the star student who’d figured out the answer to a trick question. “Irena arranged for that,” he said. “Trumped-up charges held long enough to get you onto that fateful flight. If the option for the SlickBlade charter hadn’t been available to her, I have no doubt she would have come up with another plan. She’s wily. A tough cookie. I’ve encountered that type before. Like cats, they always land on their feet.” He smiled. “But not this time.”

  “If Gerard Pezzati hadn’t come to visit me, I don’t know that I would have had as many doubts about Irena’s story as I did,” I said. “Gerard’s appearance made me start to question what I thought I knew.”

  Williamson pointed at Tooney. “Good thing you came out to New York. While I can’t advocate your methods, I will admit that you got things started in the right direction. Irena’s story held up as long as no one heard her brother’s side. Once the truth came out, she had to scramble.”

  “I did my best,” Tooney said shyly.

  I leaned over and patted him on the knee. “You’ve never let us down.”

  Tooney smiled, a transformative look for his homely face.

  “Why did Rudy leave the note on my car?” I asked Williamson.

  Williamson shrugged. “Our best guess is that he knew you’d spotted him. Or that he believed you might find out about him working with Hillary.”

  She squirmed.

  “Lies are more effective when based in truth. In the same way, actions are less suspicious when the guilty party calls attention to them.” He looked at us all, but his gaze came to rest on Hillary. “They were masters of deceit. There’s no shame in having fallen for their lies.”

  “I wasn’t going to do it,” Hillary said to the group. She turned to Bennett. “Remember? I made Rudolfo look at me at just the right moment.” She turned to me. “I did, didn’t I?”

  “What is she talking about?” Williamson asked.

  Bennett and I exchanged a look. We hadn’t shared the specifics of those last moments in Bennett’s study before Frances’s arrival. Not with anyone, even Frances.

  “Hillary means she wasn’t going to allow anyone to hurt me or Grace,” Bennett said smoothly. “Like she said, if she hadn’t been there to distract Rudy, I don’t know that Grace and I could have gotten away safely. Isn’t that right, Grace?”

  “Absolutely,” I said.

  Hillary sat up a little straighter. She stared up at Williamson. “Yes, that’s exactly what I was saying. I would never let anything happen to my family.”

  Frances jabbed me in the ribs with her elbow. I ignored her.

  • • •

  THAT NIGHT, AFTER AMETHYST CELLARS closed for the evening, Bruce, Scott, and I sat at a tall table in Hugo’s bar area to celebrate the fact that Bennett and I were still alive and that all was right in Emberstowne once again.

  “What about Signor Pezzati?” Bruce asked, taking a swig from his beer bottle. “What does he think about all this?”

  I kept my hands wrapped around the base of my wineglass. “I’m getting all of it secondhand from Bennett, you understand, but Signor Pezzati is quite healthy. He had a little cold, that’s all. He hasn’t been fighting pneumonia. Irena made that up, too. All these revelations have come as a bit of shock to him, as you might imagine, but Gerard and his family are traveling there now. Signor Pezzati will meet his daughter-in-law and his grandchildren for the first time. I understand he got quite choked up to discover that his son made such a success of himself.”

  “I love a story with a happy ending,” Bruce said.

  “What about that bodyguard guy—Angelo?” Scott asked. “The one you didn’t like?”

  “Turns out he didn’t like Irena, but knew better than to disparage her in front of her father. He didn’t trust her. He tried, apparently without much luck, to institute controls on Pezzati’s treasures. That’s probably one of the things they were arguing about when we saw them.” I swirled the red wine in my glass. “I wish them all the best, but I don’t think I want to go back.”

  “You brought a family together again,” Bruce said. “Not for the first time.”

  I thought about that. “Why does bringing people togeth
er always seem to also involve tearing them apart?”

  “You aren’t responsible for that,” Scott said. “People make their own choices and have to live with the consequences.”

  I nodded but didn’t want to answer. Instead, I took a sip of wine.

  My two roommates looked up at once, focusing over the top of my head.

  I turned, stifling a little gasp of surprise.

  “Adam,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

  His smile was tentative, shy. “I don’t really know,” he said. “It’s not like fireworks go off for you whenever I show up. At least not the good kind.” He shrugged. “But now that you know I’m no villain, I thought maybe we could try being friends.” He gestured toward Bruce and Scott. “If I’m intruding, though, I’ll leave you alone.”

  I turned to my roommates, who looked as surprised as I felt. Bruce gripped his beer bottle, frozen in place. Scott rested his chin in his hand, watching me. All three men were engaged, observant, waiting for me to make the next move. I looked at Adam. He raised those expressive brows, asking a silent question.

  For the first time since we’d met, I felt a flicker of possibility.

  I scooched my chair over to make room. “Pull up a seat.”

 

 

 


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