“Mmmmm, so divine,” she crowed, gulping rather than sipping the effervescent wine.
Abandoning the bar and the guffawing disgrace known as Sophia Pucci, I went in search of Massimo. He needed to hear about the inexplicable incident that had just transpired. Evelyn’s cold shoulder towards Leonard had been so subtle that I doubted anyone else had noticed.
“Massimo!” I called urgently, interrupting his conversation with one of the yacht captains.
“Excuse me, please,” Massimo said to the captain while taking my arm. “What’s going on? Did you hear anything suspicious?” He led me down a long pier where we could talk privately.
“Yes, I heard Leonard ask Evelyn why she’s wearing black. He made some sarcastic comment about her being in mourning. It just seemed really strange for him to care what she’s wearing.”
“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 nepotis
m. 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 to 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.
Immobilized, I watched as Leonard crept around the side of the house, reaching into his jacket pocket and running a comb briskly through his hair. Smoothing out his clothing, he darted into the driveway and clicked his car key pad to unlock the doors. As Leonard fisted the door handle, Massimo grabbed my hand and ran with me to the driveway.
“Stop right there, Leonard!” Massimo yelled as the Englishman looked at us in shock.
“What the hell? Did you two follow me here? What’s the meaning of this?” He demanded.
“I need to have a word with you,” Massimo seethed as I glared at him. He was treating Leonard as though he were a criminal. Maybe I only had a week’s worth of detective experience, but I had 30 years of people experience that told me this was exactly the way to make someone shut down.
“No can do. I have an errand to run,” Leonard evaded, clenching his car keys in his hand.
“An errand? At this late hour?” Massimo probed.
“It’s none of your affair,” Leonard declared.
“Is Evelyn here?” I spoke up in a gentler tone. “Your fiancée, I mean. She is your fiancée, right?”
Leonard shot me a pulverizing stare that told me I had hit the nail on the head. “She’s asleep and my relationship with her is private,” he evaded, maneuvering his big body into the slim sedan.
“Leonard, I’m telling you,” Massimo warned. “If you drive away now, you’re going to look even more suspicious.”
“Suspicious? Oh so I’m a suspect now, am I? I didn’t even know that Tomaso gigolo. No one in Rome did. You’re barking up the wrong alley,” he gritted, cranking up the ignition and throwing the car into reverse.
Massimo clasped my hand more tightly, guiding us to take a simultaneous step back from Leonard’s car. Spearing us with a distasteful grimace, Leonard burned rubber out of the driveway and onto the dusty beach road. As soon as Leonard had vanished into the night, Massimo lunged for his cell phone.
“Did you hear what Leonard said?” I asked softly.
“Yes, he’s an arrogant son of a…”
“No, did you hear what he called Tomaso?” I clarified impatiently.
“Huh?”
“He called him a gigolo! Why would Leonard say something like that about a man he c
laims not to know? The only way that Leonard would know that Tomaso was a gigolo is if he had been fooling around with Evelyn. That’s the only explanation!”
“As usual, I think you’re right,” Massimo clipped, speaking sternly into the phone. “I need a squad car here. Immediately. I’m in Stella Polare at Evelyn Flowers’ residence. And I also need you to track Leonard Jilton’s license number and follow him. He needs to be questioned about Tomaso’s death.”
Massimo’s voice echoed along the sea breeze as I dashed over to the front door, knocking firmly several times. No answer. Relentlessly, I pounded my fists against the door, an uneasy feeling in my gut overtaking me. As my knocks went unanswered, I kicked the door, certain that even the deepest of sleepers would hear the intrusive sound. But still I received no reply. A horrific possibility brewed in my mind as I beat my fists into the door until my knuckles were raw.
Chapter 10
“Massimo!” I cried as he looked over at me with grave concern. “Evelyn’s not answering the door!”
“Put a rush call on those squad cars. It’s urgent!” Massimo shouted into the phone before bolting to my side.
“Massimo, I’m really worried. Why isn’t she answering the door?” I said breathlessly as he led me over to the side of the house.
“I don’t know, but we need to break down the window and get in,” he said harshly.
He held his fist up to the glass, poised to punch the window open. “Don’t! You could break your hand,” I hissed. “Isn’t there something in your car that you could use to break the window open?”
“Probably,” Massimo huffed, rushing back to the car as I followed.
“I should never have asked to stop for that stupid ice cream. We might have given Leonard just enough time to…”
“Don’t say it,” Massimo begged, examining an umbrella and deeming it too weak to shatter the glass.
“Kill her!” I finished with a lump in my throat. “They probably had a huge fight and he lost his temper and…”
“Okay, don’t get carried away. We don’t know what happened yet. But we’re going to.” Massimo lifted a heavy metal wrench out of the car, running towards the window and hurling it at the glass. “Duck down!” He ordered as the glass shards flew everywhere.
A Fashion Felon in Rome Page 6