A Villa in Sicily: Figs and a Cadaver

by Fiona Grace

  Audrey’s stomach turned. She’d never really thought about that. Oh, she was worried that her business could fail, and that she might not have the money to do the reno, but she always thought Mussomeli would grow, with or without her, into a vibrant, exciting city. The thought of foreigners escaping the dying remains of town… of the houses crumbling even more… of more sick, hungry strays roaming the streets… It filled her with dread.

  “I’m sorry you’re leaving, Bruno,” she said.

  He grabbed his credit card back from the waitress and peered out the window. “I am, too. There’s my cab. Nice chatting with you. Good luck,” he said, grabbing his duffel and heading out, as Audrey finished in her head: I’m going to need it.

  She watched him leave and dropped her half-eaten pastry to her plate, appetite gone. On the curb, the driver opened the trunk, letting Bruno shove his big luggage inside. He opened the door, pulling his long, beefy limbs into the car, scanning the area as if he was hoping to avoid someone.

  Suddenly, something occurred to her. Something that Nessa had said. He was tall. Big. He was wearing like a hat, I think.

  “Principessa!” a voice called from the back room, behind the counter, but Audrey was only vaguely aware of it. She was too busy thinking of Nessa’s description. Before, she’d thought it worthless, but now, everything seemed to fall into place.

  Tall. Big and bulky. Wearing a hat.

  “Oh my God,” Audrey whispered aloud, rising slowly from her seat.

  Grabbing her phone and shoving it into her pocket, she rushed for the exit.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  Audrey bolted for the door, swerving around customers. She threw it open and exploded out onto the narrow street, but by the time she got there, breathing hard, the taxi was already gone.

  I got this, she told herself, breaking into a run, heading down the road the way the cab must’ve gone.

  All of the roads around the area were very narrow and one-way, so she reasoned that in order to get onto the main road, headed toward the airport in Palermo, they’d have to get onto Via Barcellona.

  Hanging a quick right, she dodged into an alley. The stench of garbage nearly overpowered her. Pumping her legs, trying not to pay attention to the burning in her lungs, she ran until she came to a fence. At first, she thought she was stuck, but then she spotted an opening in it. She slipped through and kept going, the walls of the buildings blurring around her.

  She tore into someone’s small patch of backyard, into their freshly washed laundry, dripping from a crooked line. Pushing it out of the way, she came to a short chain-link fence. She climbed over it, hurdling over an old manual lawnmower before her ankle got caught in a coil of watering hose. Finally, she extricated herself and raced down a narrow passage between two homes. When she cleared the houses, she raced between two cars, into the street.

  The horn blared. Tires screeched. She took one look to the left and her mouth formed the shape of a scream as the taxi bore down on her, and one thought filled her head: Maybe I don’t got this.

  Before she could let out the shriek in her throat, the cab came to a complete stop, its front bumper just inches from her kneecaps.

  She threw her hands down on the hood of the car. “Wait! Wait right there!” she warned the driver.

  Bruno was already opening the door, pulling his hefty body from the seat, a bewildered expression on his face. “What the—”

  He looked as though he was about to ask her if she was okay, but she didn’t need the sympathy of a murderer. Gathering every last bit of breath into her lungs, she pointed an accusing finger at him. “It was you, wasn’t it?” she shouted. “Wasn’t it?”

  He stared at her, squinting slightly. “Me, what?”

  “You’re tall …” She heaved a big breath. “Big…” She gasped.

  He leaned in close to her. “Are you okay?”

  She ignored him, still panting and waving a hand in front of her face. “Yeah. Fine. You’re wearing a hat …” She trailed off when she realized just what she’d said to Nessa earlier. And so are half the men in town.

  He scowled. “And?”

  She kept her eyes on him, though she was aware of other people on the sidewalks, stopping, watching the scene. “And… you killed her. Mimi.” She raised her chin, daring him to defy her.

  “Who the hell is Mimi?”

  “The councilwoman …” she started, still indignant, though her righteous armor was beginning to show chinks. “Obviously. You should know. You killed her. On that beach?”

  He laughed. Long and hard, no holds barred. “What beach? Who do you think you are? Agatha Christie? I didn’t kill no one. I’ve never been to any beach in my life, especially around here. I don’t like sand.”

  “You’re lying. I can see it in your eyes. You must’ve. Maybe you followed her.”

  He laughed. “You really think I’d waste my time going all the way down there, just to kill that councilwoman?”

  Her eyes widened. “You must’ve been. Otherwise, how would you know how steep the walk is?”

  He froze, and his face began to turn red, just like Nessa’s had when she’d been caught in a lie.

  Oh, my god, she thought. I’ve got him! I am turning out to be a regular Miss Marple!

  Emboldened, she continued: “You were walking on the beach and you saw her, you took your chance, and you shoved her. You killed her, and then you ran away. And now you’re running away before you get caught. Admit it. I know someone who was running on the beach. She saw you. She can identify you.”

  More people were now gathering around, coming out of local businesses and homes. There was an Italian butcher’s shop, full of meats and sausages hanging in the window, that Audrey had never seen before, but must be a pretty happening place, judging from how many people poured out of it to see what was going on.

  But Bruno did not admit anything. He crossed his arms. “I’m not saying another word. I’m getting in my taxi and going to the airport. So get out of the road and let me go.”

  Bruno tried to go back to his seat, but Audrey stood firm, in front of the taxi’s hood.

  He gritted his teeth. “Hey. Scram. You’re going to make me miss my flight.”

  She shrugged innocently, then smiled as the sound of sirens filled the air. A police car appeared in the road, behind the cab, heading toward the small crowd. “All right. If you won’t tell me, then maybe you will tell the police?”

  Bruno looked over his shoulder, threw up his hands, and muttered a torrent of curses any sailor would’ve been impressed by.

  The police car slowed to a stop behind the cab, and to Audrey’s delight, Officer Ricci, her old friend, stepped out. He’d been in charge of monitoring her house twenty-four-seven when she was suspected of murdering the foreman, and he’d eaten a healthy dose of crow after she was cleared. She and the young, baby-faced officer were friends now.

  “Audrey?” he asked, as if he wasn’t particularly surprised to see her here.

  “Hi, Officer Ricci,” she called, waving to him. “This here is Bruno. He is trying to leave the country for good, without explaining to you why he was on the same beach as Mimi Catalano on the morning she was killed.”

  A collective gasp rose up from the crowd.

  Officer Ricci approached, his suspicion misplaced. He was doubtfully eyeing her, instead of the culprit, even though she was pointing at him with both hands.

  “Audrey. How do you get to be part of this?” he asked in very fragmented English, staring her down like she was a recalcitrant child.

  “I just—” That was a long story, one she didn’t want to tell, when they were so close to cracking the darn case. “It’s not important. What’s important is that this man was on the beach when—”

  Ricci held up a hand. “I get it. Grazie.” He finally looked at Bruno. “Is it true you were leaving town?”

  Bruno’s eyes went to the sky. “Yes.” He checked his phone. “Probably not now. I’m gonna miss my flight.”r />
  “American? What’s your name?”

  “Bruno Altavera.” He reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out his passport, opening it to the front page. “See?”

  Officer Ricci took the passport and read it, writing something down in a small, spiral notepad. “And is what she say true? You saw the victim that morning?”

  He dragged in a breath and looked at Audrey. “Yeah. I did.”

  More gasps in the crowd.

  But before Audrey could feel vindicated for her crazy behavior, he shouted, “But I didn’t kill her! I swear. Yes, I saw her there. I was down there fishing. I like to fish, but nothing was biting, so I was pissed. She started telling me I wasn’t welcome here, whatever.” He shrugged. “So I might’ve told her a couple of inappropriate things in the heat of the moment. But that was it. Then I just gathered up my stuff and left.”

  “Did you shove the victim?”

  “No. No, I didn’t lay a finger on her. I was too far away. She was walking in the loose sand and I was down by the water. We just kind of yelled at each other. And then we went our separate ways. I went back up to town, and she kept walking the beach, which I thought was dumb, considering she was wearing those stupid red heels. But I didn’t kill her. Didn’t touch her.”

  Ricci kept scribbling something. “You no can leave. Not until we sort this out. You understand?”

  “But I’ve got a ticket! I have a flight! I have a life to get back to. You can’t keep me here.”

  Audrey rolled her eyes. She knew all too well. Yes, they can. And they will.

  The cab driver, a spry old man, had jumped out of the cab and deposited Bruno’s bag at his feet, muttering something in Italian that sounded like Crazy Americans. Popping back behind his seat, he stared daggers at Bruno, his knuckles wrapped tight around the steering wheel. He revved the engine and inched closer to them, as if he was ready to take off the moment that they moved out of the way. Officer Ricci took Audrey’s sleeve, pulled her aside, and motioned to the driver to continue on.

  The driver floored it, tires squealing as it peeled around a sharp corner.

  Officer Ricci turned to Bruno, whose face was so red, he looked like a bowl of tomato soup, a pressure cooker ready to explode. “Signore, where are you staying?”

  He was still scowling at Audrey. “This is B.S. You’re going to hear from my attorney.” Then he let out a dramatic sigh, and his voice softened. “The Regalpetra. On Via Garibaldi.”

  “Grazie, signore,” the officer said, writing that down. He turned to Audrey. “Come. I walk you home.”

  “I’m actually going to the clinic.”

  “I walk you to the clinic, then.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  Truthfully, she didn’t want to go anywhere alone right now. Especially with the way Bruno, a suspected murderer she’d just accused, was looking at her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  When Officer Ricci brought her to the clinic, it was after nine. Audrey was frantic, expecting her first appointment would be waiting outside, impatient. But as she approached, she saw no one. Then she realized that the door sign had been flipped to APERTO, and the door itself was a bit open. There were even lights on inside.

  “I’m sure I closed up yesterday. What is going on?” she wondered aloud, running ahead the next few steps. Had someone broken in?

  Ricci caught up with her and grabbed her arm. “Hold on. Let me check.”

  Before he could, though, she spied Mason through the storefront window, straightening some of the magazines. Her nine o’clock was sitting in the waiting room with her pooch, patiently reading a magazine.

  “It’s okay,” she told the officer. “I can take it from here.”

  “You sure?”

  She nodded and thanked him.

  “All right,” Ricci said. “You call me if you need anything.”

  She jogged inside. Mason grinned at her. “You must’ve been really tired last night. You forgot to lock up.”

  Thoughts of the text she’d sent Brina shortly before her adventure swirled in her head, and her face heated. “Oh. I did?”

  “Yeah. So when I got here, your nine was standing outside. I thought, no sense in letting her wait, so I let her in. Hope you don’t mind.” He stared closely at her, as if he could read that text she’d sent Brina right on her face. “Everything okay? Why are you red?”

  She touched her cheek. “Nothing. No, I don’t mind. Thank you. I was—” She stopped short before telling him about her jaunt down the street, after the potential murderer. It was too long a story for now. “Great.”

  Audrey tried to skirt away from him, head down, wondering if she’d always feel like a lovesick teenager when it came to men she liked. Why couldn’t she act like a normal adult and chill?

  Mason said, “I took care of the animals and got the exam room ready, so you should be all set.”

  She spun and stared at him for a moment. Who was this man and what had he done with the old Mason? “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “You told me you hated the animals. And you took care of them?”

  “Yep.”

  This would be, in the Hallmark Christmas movies, where he clasped his hands together and professed his love for her. I did it because I realized how much I adore you. But it wasn’t Christmas, and she wasn’t that lucky.

  She peered behind the counter, toward the kennels, wondering if all was okay. There were no strange sounds coming from there, just a lot of normal yips and the scrabbling of little paws on the floor. “And no problems?”

  “Not one.”

  Just then, her nine o’clock appointment shifted in her chair. It wasn’t an act of impatience, but it jarred Audrey out of her silly romantic thoughts. Besides, Mason was starting to look at her like she had something coming out of her nose. Focus, Audrey.

  “Ohhhkay,” she said suspiciously, then checked the appointment book and turned to the woman with a bright smile. “Hello, is this Marco? What a beautiful dog you are! Come on back.”

  Everything went like clockwork with the next patient. She went through the Abruzzese Sheepdog’s check-up, and when she was finishing up with him, she came outside to find that Mason had disappeared. She checked Marco’s owner out herself and said goodbye, and suddenly heard an excited barking coming from the play area by the dog kennel. She walked into the back to find Mason playing with Polpetto, the mastiff jumping up and down like a little puppy as Mason held a ball for him. Mason had a big smile on his face that she’d never seen before, and it made him look even more breathtaking.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, flabbergasted.

  “I was just… playing fetch with the dog.” He gave her a nonchalant shrug and dropped the ball on the ground, this time not complaining at all that his hand was wet with drool. “Need help with something else?”

  “What are you, sick?” She thought about feeling his forehead, but that would require touching him, something that gave her excited tingles she wasn’t sure she should be feeling.

  He shrugged. “Just trying to be helpful.”

  “If you don’t mind… it would be amazing if you could take Polpetto for a walk. He’s used to going on them. Actually, all the dogs could use exercise, and I have a full list of appointments all morning.”

  “No problem,” he said, swiping a leash off the counter. “Hey. You gonna tell me why you were late? And had a cop drop you off? And why your pants are like that?”

  She looked down. Her favorite jeans had a tear down the thigh, likely one she’d sustained while hurdling over one of the chain-link fences during her hot pursuit. She touched it. It wasn’t bleeding, at least, but unless she could find a giant patch, the jeans were ruined.

  “Ugh. Great.” She sighed. “I thought I found Mimi Catalano’s murderer. Chased him down the street.”

  He leaned forward on the counter, interested. “You did? Let me guess. He got away.”

  “No. I caught him
. Actually. His taxi nearly caught me and flattened me like a little pancake.” She shrugged. “The police came and questioned him but he denied everything. Only thing was, Nessa saw him on the beach. He said he was there, but he didn’t murder anyone.”

  “That’s interesting. How did you suspect him?”

  “Nessa said she saw a big guy with a hat. And he told me he was getting trouble from the local council. He was an American, so I figured he was getting the same treatment you and I were getting, from Mimi. Considering he was at the beach at the time… it all fits together. Only thing is …”

  “He says he’s innocent.”

  “Yeah. But don’t they all? I caught him trying to skip town early. It just makes sense. Maybe the police will question him more, and he’ll crack. Still …” She frowned. “Something doesn’t sit right with me. I mean, he ticks off all the boxes, and yet… I feel like something is off.”

  “Right… probably the fact that you chased down and accused of murder a big guy that probably could’ve flattened you. Boston, you need to stop taking chances like that, don’t you think?”

  She was about to argue, but she’d seen that rabid look in Bruno’s eyes. If the police hadn’t shown up, it could’ve been bad for her. “Yes. I guess you are right. I’ll be more careful.” She gnawed on her lip. “But that might just be the New York in him. There’s plenty of people who get emotional about things. Doesn’t make them killers. I don’t know. It’s so confusing.”

  “You don’t need to know. Leave it to the police, all right? All you need to do is take care of these animals,” he reminded her. Polpetto had been standing beside him, gazing up at him like an adoring fan. Mason clipped the leash on his collar. “I guess you won’t get into too much trouble if I leave you alone here?”

  She fisted her hands on her hips. Way to talk to her like a child. But she’d earned that by acting like one without any concern for her own safety. “I’ll be fine. Go.”

  When he left, she sat down at the reception desk to try to go over some of the financials and balance the books. She opened the Excel file and her head spun when she saw the number in red. It was a small number, really, but one that was likely to grow if that tax went through.