A Villa in Sicily: Figs and a Cadaver

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by Fiona Grace




  A VILLA IN SICILY:

  FIGS AND A CADAVER

  (A Cats and Dogs Cozy Mystery—Book Two)

  FIONA GRACE

  Fiona Grace

  Debut author Fiona Grace is author of the LACEY DOYLE COZY MYSTERY series, comprising nine books (and counting); of the TUSCAN VINEYARD COZY MYSTERY series, comprising six books (and counting); of the DUBIOUS WITCH COZY MYSTERY series, comprising three books (and counting); and of the BEACHFRONT BAKERY COZY MYSTERY series, comprising six books (and counting).

  Fiona would love to hear from you, so please visit www.fionagraceauthor.com to receive free ebooks, hear the latest news, and stay in touch.

  Copyright © 2020 by Fiona Grace. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright Romas_Photo, used under license from Shutterstock.com.

  BOOKS BY FIONA GRACE

  LACEY DOYLE COZY MYSTERY

  MURDER IN THE MANOR (Book#1)

  DEATH AND A DOG (Book #2)

  CRIME IN THE CAFE (Book #3)

  VEXED ON A VISIT (Book #4)

  KILLED WITH A KISS (Book #5)

  PERISHED BY A PAINTING (Book #6)

  SILENCED BY A SPELL (Book #7)

  FRAMED BY A FORGERY (Book #8)

  CATASTROPHE IN A CLOISTER (Book #9)

  TUSCAN VINEYARD COZY MYSTERY

  AGED FOR MURDER (Book #1)

  AGED FOR DEATH (Book #2)

  AGED FOR MAYHEM (Book #3)

  AGED FOR SEDUCTION (Book #4)

  AGED FOR VENGEANCE (Book #5)

  AGED FOR ACRIMONY (Book #6)

  DUBIOUS WITCH COZY MYSTERY

  SKEPTIC IN SALEM: AN EPISODE OF MURDER (Book #1)

  SKEPTIC IN SALEM: AN EPISODE OF CRIME (Book #2)

  SKEPTIC IN SALEM: AN EPISODE OF DEATH (Book #3)

  BEACHFRONT BAKERY COZY MYSTERY

  BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A KILLER CUPCAKE (Book #1)

  BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A MURDEROUS MACARON (Book #2)

  BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A PERILOUS CAKE POP (Book #3)

  BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A DEADLY DANISH (Book #4)

  BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A TREACHEROUS TART (Book #5)

  BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A CALAMITOUS COOKIE (Book #6)

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Every time Audrey went for a walk in Mussomeli, she was reminded of how much she loved this town, smack in the middle of the island of Sicily.

  The town, with its old, quaint homes, nestled together atop a hill, was full of baroque architecture, the smells of fresh-baked Italian treats mingling with cool sea breezes and fresh mountain air, and locals and other one-euro home buyers, all waving hello to one another. The sun was usually bright and the weather, a temperate seventy degrees. Though a lot of the homes were rundown, their foundations nearly crumbling to ruin, the place exuded all kinds of possibilities, and a promise that one day, she’d be living in the Mediterranean home of her dreams.

  At first, Mason, her handsome American contractor friend, with his long, athletic strides, was two steps ahead of Audrey, but as they got closer to the place on the map that Orlando Falco, president of the town council, had provided, Audrey picked up the pace, breathing heavily. By the time they made it to Via Barcellona, the street where the property for the new veterinary center was located, she was practically running.

  Mason broke into a jog and easily caught up with her. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted to get rid of me.”

  Not much of an exerciser, she could barely get the breath into her lungs to talk. When she did, it came out in huffs. “I’m just… really excited… can’t wait… to get this place set up… and start getting real clients.”

  “Yeah. Let’s not put the cart before the horse. I hope it’s not in too bad shape.”

  “No. The councilman told me it only needed minor cosmetic touches. I bet we can have it up and running in a week.”

  Falco had stopped by the day before and given her directions to the property, in the form of a hastily hand-drawn map, and the key to the front door. The deal was that the town would provide the property in exchange for her services, and provide a generous allowance to get the place fixed up and in working condition. Audrey peered down at the map and up at the numbers, trying to find the right building among a patchwork of closely packed, nondescript storefronts. She looked up and squinted.

  “Should be around here somewhere.”

  They went past an old Catholic church with a statue of Mary in front, and a town square with a little fountain. Falco had said it was very centrally located, off the square, prime real estate, which had made Audrey wonder, for a blink, why another shop owner hadn’t snapped it up sooner. But she’d been too excited to question Orlando Falco, who was her friend. She stopped, spinning in place, trying to orient herself.

  “Is that it?”

  Mason pointed across the street to a small storefront with a sign in front that said, Affittasi Commerciale.

  She turned the paper around and checked the number on the door, 135. “Yes, that could be it! I think it is!”

  She practically skipped over to it and stood in front of it, taking it in. It was a narrow building with a paper-covered window, so she couldn’t see inside, but it was constructed of red brick and had a pretty turquoise-blue door with a glass doorknob and little brass mail slot. She’d only ever worked for a large veterinary practice, in Boston. Never had she had her very own place. She shivered with excitement, imagining the words Mussomeli Veterinaria, Dott. Audrey Smart painted across the window in regal script.

  And yes, it was almost directly across from the town’s square, a stone’s throw from the pretty fountain. She turned back to it, her heart thumping like mad.

  “Oooh! It is prime location! It looks nice! Don’t you think it looks nice?” she asked Mason, jostling his arm a little. She couldn’t seem to speak in any voice other than childishly excited.

  He had his hands in his pockets and was eyeing the place a bit more skeptically. “Why don’t you save your excitement until we get
inside, Boston?”

  “Yeah, well, I can’t wait,” she said, rushing across the sidewalk to the front door. She stuck the old key in the lock, twisted it, and pushed open the door… to the most horrific stench that had ever invaded her nostrils. It hit her like a wall, making her step back onto Mason’s toes.

  “Ow, hey—” He paused for only a beat. “What died in here?”

  Audrey winced. She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out, but then again, she’d gone through hell and back with her little place. She’d seen some pretty gross things, from green, furry mold to a sink so clogged with someone’s long black hair that she retched the entire time she was cleaning it out. Nothing could scare her now.

  Holding her nose, she pressed forward. There was a little reception desk in the front, then off to the right, natural light poured in through the huge, arched storefront window, lighting up an absolutely gigantic room. “What do you think this was before?” she asked, stooping down to pick up something among the discarded junk. “Oh. That’s what this was!”

  It was an advertisement for a vacuum. She showed it to Mason, whose eyes bugged out like he’d never seen one before in his life. He’d pulled the top of his Pink Floyd T-shirt up to cover his nose, baring some of those abs. Brina would’ve approved… and wanted her to snap a picture.

  “An old vacuum store,” she explained, trying to ignore them.

  “Vacuum store?” Now he was thoroughly confused. With his drawl and the resultant nasal twang from holding his nose, he sounded a little like a sad country song. “You mean, this place just sold vacuums? Why?”

  Sometimes he could be so clueless. It was almost as if he’d lived in another world, before this. She ignored him and went to the storefront. “This is where the waiting area can be,” she said, imagining it all perfectly in her head. She climbed over a broken display rack, still full of brochures for some extremely ancient vacuum models, and waved her hands. “If we put a wall up here, separating it from the back, we’ll probably need two or three exam rooms, a kennel, a supply closet… you think chain-link kennels would be best or should we try to go greener and more animal friendly?”

  Mason’s eyebrows tented. “Uh, Audrey…”

  “Probably greener. I bet people around here appreciate green businesses. Maybe it’ll have tax benefits. Oh, look!” She raced to the back of the place. There was already a hallway in the back of the store, covered in old, wooden paneling, heading toward two rooms. She threw open the doors. A tiny little lunchroom with an old vending machine and a small bistro table, and a tiny bathroom with peeling bubblegum-pink tile. Perfect.

  “You know, girl,” he called to her as she rummaged around in her purse for a pen or pencil. She needed to start writing down a list of supplies. “I may be a damn good carpenter, but there’s no way on God’s green Earth I’m going to have this place ready for you in a week. I hope you realize that.”

  She smiled as she finally located a Bic pen in the deep chasm that was her hobo bag. “You can do anything you put your mind to,” she said, mimicking something her father used to tell her all the time when she was young. “I have faith in you.”

  His eyes ping-ponged around the vast space. “That makes one of us.”

  Audrey studied him, dread pooling in her stomach. The last thing she needed was him giving her a dose of reality. If she couldn’t open the place soon and start getting some paying customers in, she’d be sunk.

  She forced the thought away. “Oh, come on. It’s perfect. Look.” Turning the map over, she started to sketch out her idea atop a glass display case. He peered over her shoulder, laughing a little, but it wasn’t his usual laugh. She paused and looked at him. “What?”

  “You have mighty high aspirations for this place. How much are they giving you to fix it up?”

  “Two thousand euros,” she announced proudly.

  “Yeah, um. Aud? Hate to break it to you, but just one of those walls you’re talking about is going to blow your budget out of the water. And that’s materials alone. You’re not even talking about labor.”

  Right. Labor. His fee. That was really all he cared about, since he definitely wasn’t here for the animals he despised so much.

  “Well, they want me here so badly, maybe they can give us more, if I ask. I mean, I’m the one single-handedly solving their stray problem. They should be willing to cough up big bucks for that, right?”

  “Here? In Mussomeli? Good luck with that,” he muttered as he kicked through a pile of assorted garbage—old food containers, cardboard, dust bunnies, and broken pieces of furniture. “These people aren’t exactly rolling in bucks, in case you didn’t notice. I mean, vacuum guy didn’t make it. What makes you think you will?”

  “I will, because I don’t suck.” She grinned.

  He crossed his tanned arms. “Don’t try to be funny. It doesn’t work for you.”

  “Then don’t be a downer,” she said, heading toward one wall. “Right over here is where the cats can be. We’re going to need at least twenty spots. Maybe more. There are a lot of strays out there and I’m going to want to have a place where they can get out and explore.”

  “Um, Audrey …”

  He was just going to throw his rainclouds everywhere.

  “We can’t very well have cats and dogs in the same spot. So, more walls. One right here, and—”

  “Audrey …”

  “Maybe we can have the surgery over there. A prep room, too, obviously. My office should be pretty big, well, not crazy big, but big enough for three people to meet, because I’ll need somewhere to consult with patients’ owners about treat—”

  He dropped the T-shirt from his face. “Audrey!”

  She stopped. “What?”

  He motioned with his eyes, down to her feet. There, right at her toes, was a mangled mass of fur. From the tail, it looked like a possum. Dead, and swarming with flies and maggots.

  She shrieked and ran to Mason, nearly jumping into his arms. “Oh my gosh!”

  He disentangled himself from her and peered closer at it. “That explains the stench,” he said. “Let’s see if I can find something to dispose of it.”

  They found a couple sticks, and, fighting the overwhelming need to vomit, Audrey and Mason finally scooped the thing into a plastic bag. She’d dealt with all kinds of horrible animal injuries before, but nothing was quite as disgusting as week-dead vermin.

  “Poor thing,” she murmured sadly as Mason tied the top of the plastic bag shut, leaving an oily stain on the floorboards. “I guess the first order of business should be getting some cleaning materials and throwing out the trash.”

  He nodded. “I know a guy we can get a dumpster from. Full-size. I think we’re going to need it.”

  She rubbed her hands together. “Great! So when can we get started?”

  Mason held up a hand. “Chill, girl. I’m starving. Why don’t we get lunch and you can tell me what you need to have done?”

  “I’m not hungry! And there’s so much to do right now, I’d rather get going on this.” She spun around in a circle. She wasn’t sure what to do first. “And I’m paying you to help, not to go to lunch.”

  He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Uh, Audrey …” This time she looked at him, because the last time he’d used that voice, she was dangerously close to stepping in mutilated possum. “You know I’ll do my best, but I do have my own renovation to deal with.”

  “I know, but—”

  “I got to get it done by next month. I have someone from America staying over. To visit.”

  She frowned. Someone. Family? A friend? A girlfriend? That was kind of vague. Was he being so intentionally? “You do?”

  He nodded and didn’t offer more. She had to admit, it made her curious. If it was a girlfriend, that was kind of gross, the way he’d been borderline flirting with her. Actually, he really hadn’t been. Most of his “flirts” were really just risqué jokes, like the offer to come upstairs and help her change. Audrey got the feeling he simply did it not
because he was interested in her, but because he enjoyed seeing her blush.

  Anything that might have been going on was really only in Audrey’s head, and Mason was clearly a woman magnet, so his guest very well could be a girl. And that was fine. Perfectly wonderful. The poor girl probably needed all the prayers Audrey could throw at her, for having to put up with Mason. Then why did those first tendrils of envy creep in? “Um… who?”

  “Someone. Not important. So yeah, like I said,” he continued like he really wanted the subject dropped, kicking a wall with the toe of his boot. “I’m going to try to get over here and help when I’m not working on my reno, but I can’t do it all.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that,” she said, waving him off. “I expect to do a lot of it myself.”

  “You? With your own renovation?”

  “Yep,” she said, giving him a confident smile. “I’ve got it all under control.”

  He raised a doubtful eyebrow.

  “What? I did masterful shower work.”

  “Yeah. I also think you called that shower every curse word in the book. And this is a little more than a shower, girl.”

  Okay, that was true. They’d discussed this before, and sure, it did feel like she had her work cut out for her. But she didn’t have to make the place perfect. All she really needed were the kennels and a clean exam table to operate from. She’d make do. Besides, she didn’t have any of her own family or friends—and definitely no boyfriend— visiting that would necessitate her speeding up her own house renovations. She had plenty of time to worry about the house later.

  Just then, Orlando Falco walked in, a bright politician’s smile on his face. The man was perpetually wearing a black suit and tie, even despite the warm temperatures.

  “Good morning, good morning,” he said, gliding over to her in his shiny Italian loafers and handing her a newspaper. “So you’ve found the place, eh? Pretty nice, don’t you think? Great location.”

 

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