A Villa in Sicily: Figs and a Cadaver

by Fiona Grace

  The phone rang. Maybe this was serendipity. Oh, please let that be Orlando Falco, telling me the stray tax is off the table!

  She answered with her usual, “Dr. Smart Veterinary Clinic, how may I help you?”

  “Hello,” a female voice said, with a European accent Audrey couldn’t place. “I saw your flyer.”

  “Yes. Great. Do you have any information about the dog we found?”

  “No, not that dog. But I was wondering. Did you happen to find any other stray dogs? I’m missing my Pepe. He’s a white poodle.”

  “Oh. No. I’m sorry. How long has he been missing?”

  “Since Tuesday.”

  Tuesday. The day she found Polpetto on the beach. The day Mimi Catalano was murdered. Lots of strange things happened that day, hadn’t they?

  “We don’t have an animal of that description, but I can take your information, and if he comes in here, I can let you know.”

  “That would be wonderful,” the woman said, and gave her address, one that wasn’t at all familiar to Audrey.

  “Thank you. Where in Mussomeli is that?” Audrey asked.

  “It’s outside the city. On Lago Sfendato.”

  Something prickled on the back of Audrey’s neck. Lago Sfendato. The same place where Mimi Catalano’s body was found. Lots of strange things had happened on that beach, on that day. “And how did you think you lost him?”

  “It’s odd. We always keep him in a fenced yard. Someone must’ve opened the back gate. Pepe couldn’t reach the latch on his own. We’re so sad without him.”

  “Thank you. I’ll keep an eye out,” she said.

  The phone rang again as soon as she hung up. She answered once again, now less hopeful that it would be Orlando, telling her the tax troubles were over.

  A voice began to rush mile-a-minute in Italian. She brought up Google translate on the computer, but the only word she could put in was il negozio, which meant “store.” That, and the speaker, a deep male voice, said something about a cane, which she’d learned was Italian for dog.

  “Mi dispiace, ma non parlo bene l’italiano,” she said in her terrible, broken accent. At least that little guidebook had been good for something. “You say you were at the store? And you saw the flyer about the found dog? Do you have information about it?”

  “Si. Yes. I do.”

  Thank goodness, the man spoke English. Hope igniting in her, she grabbed a pen and paper from the desk and said, “Do you know who the owner is?”

  “Yes,” the man said. “It’s me. I’m the owner. That’s my big boy, Tito.”

  “Oh! Wonderful,” Audrey gushed excitedly. “Well, we’ve been keeping him here at the clinic, taking care of him. He sure is a busy boy who likes his walks. He didn’t have a collar at the time so we didn’t know his name.”

  “Ah. Well, I am so grateful you found him. I have missed him very much. He’s like a son to me.”

  She smiled. She loved dog owners like that, who considered their pets part of the family, and could only imagine the heartache and worry he’d been going through. “Your name?”

  “Alberto. Alberto Nucci.”

  “Well, Mr. Nucci. He’s here at the clinic on Via Barcellona. The address was on the flyer. Would you like to come and pick him up?”

  “Yes. I’ll be there right away. Thank you, thank you again.”

  He ended the call, and she squealed excitedly. Polpetto would be so happy. He’d go back to his forever home, with his loving owner. How wonderful.

  But the more she thought about it, sadness began to descend upon her. Her little Polpetto, the good dog, would be gone for good. She pushed those thoughts away. Audrey, you always get so wrapped up in your patients’ lives. You need to stop that right now.

  She stood up to greet her next patient, who had just arrived. It didn’t matter what she felt. If everything worked out, and it looked like it was going to, Polpetto would be so thrilled to be back in his loving home, and that was the most important thing of all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  “Ciao! Mettiti in sesto presto!” Audrey called to the ailing dog as she helped him and his owner out to the sidewalk. Those words, the Italian form of “get well soon,” were some of the few she’d already learned, out of necessity’s sake. The little dog gave her sad but grateful eyes. Poor thing had a bit of a stomachache. Nothing serious, but he was clearly not his best self.

  When she went back inside, she found Polpetto back in the kennel, and the stray pit bull cross was gone. So Mason was really working through the strays, making sure all of them were getting their walks? Great. He’d also left her a message: The dog smelled. Gave him a bath, too.

  Her jaw dropped. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Mason was angling for a raise. That was, if she’d even been paying him to begin with.

  So what was his angle?

  Polpetto yipped excitedly when she appeared in the doorway and wagged his sharp, lethal weapon of a tail. “Wanting another walk so soon, boy? You were spoiled by your owner, weren’t you?” she said, going over and rubbing his brindle coat. It was still damp from the bath and smelled lightly of soap. He stared up at her with those typical sad mastiff eyes. “But I have good news for you.”

  He panted, handing her his paw again.

  She crouched in front of him. “Yes. That’s right. Your owner is on his way to see you, right this minute!”

  His panting sped up and he looked past her, toward the door, almost as if he understood exactly what she was saying to him.

  “I’ll miss you, though, buddy. Promise me you’ll come by to see me now and then …” She sighed. “All right, Tito?”

  He barked in answer.

  She left him in the kennel and went out to the front of the clinic. She sat down and took a deep breath for the second time that day. Pure bliss. She could get used to having her days like this. Just as she was about to dig back into the financials, the door opened, and a man with a knit skip cap and North Face jacket came in. He was so tall, he had to duck his head not to hit the transom.

  Audrey stared at him, a feeling of déjà vu hitting her as he approached the reception desk. “Hello,” he said, giving her a tentative smile as his eyes volleyed around the reception area.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  When he removed his cap to reveal a bald head, the pieces of the puzzle came together.

  Of course. Mr. Clean, from the council meeting. He was the guy who’d gone off on Mimi Catalano. His face had been a lot redder, then, twisted in anger. Now, he looked normal. Relaxed. Calm.

  He said, “Alberto Nucci.”

  She stared at him, as the pieces continued to fall into place. He knew Mimi Catalano. He’d hated her. He had a temper.

  She realized she hadn’t yet responded to him when he continued, “You have my Tito?”

  “Oh! Yes. I do. It’s so nice to have found you,” she blurted, shaking her head. “We found him running along the beach. You take that route often on your walks? He seemed to know it pretty well.”

  “Yes,” the man said. “That’s Tito’s favorite walk. He loves to splash in the lake. We go walking there twice a day.”

  “You must be very fit. Those stairs are a killer.”

  “No, no,” he said, shaking his head. “I live down on the lake. I have a house there, overlooking the water.”

  “You… do?” she spit out, the gears in her head starting to churn.

  “Yes. I thought he was in our yard, but he must’ve somehow gotten out. The gate was wide open. He’s never done that before.”

  “He hasn’t?” she asked, an all-over cold falling over her body, casting it in millions of goosebumps. That woman who’d called before lived on the lake, and had also had her gate open. She’d lost her dog just the same way. There was no secret that Mimi was no friend to animals. Maybe… was it possible that Mimi had had something to do with all of this?

  She must’ve waited a beat too long, because Alberto’s smile faded. “Are you going to
show me my dog?”

  “Oh.” She jumped out of her seat and went around the reception desk. “Of course. Yes. Right this way. He’s just had a bath and everything.”

  She led him down the hallway in a daze. I need to call DiNardo. Someone needs to question this guy.

  When she got to the kennel, Tito began to wag his tail excitedly. He let out a loud, happy bark. The second Audrey opened the door, the dog raced for his owner, jumping up on him and panting with excitement. “Hey, boy. It’s good to see you.”

  Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. “I’ll let you two get reacquainted while I go and put together the paperwork you have to fill out.”

  He twisted his head toward her. “Paperwork? What kind of paperwork?”

  “Oh. Just routine forms,” she answered vaguely. To be honest, there was no paperwork. But if it would stall him from leaving while DiNardo came over, it would be worth it.

  She rushed to the reception desk and quickly dialed his number. When he answered, she cupped her hand around her mouth and said, “It’s Audrey. I need you at the clinic,” in a low voice.

  “Hello? Who is this?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Clinic. Now!”

  “Audrey?”

  “Yes. Are you—”

  “It’s lunch, and I’m just sitting down to—”

  “NOW,” she barked, quickly hanging up as she heard Tito’s paws scrabbling on the floor behind her.

  She looked up just as Alberto walked the dog out, now wearing the red collar, which she’d left in the room, in a bin with a bunch of other collars. “I’m glad you found his collar,” he told her.

  “Yes, well, actually, he did …” she said, becoming more convinced by the second that she was looking into the eyes of the man who’d murdered Mimi Catalano. How had he known Tito had lost his collar? Why hadn’t he just assumed she’d taken it off to have the bath? “He found it on the beach …”

  “Did he, now?” He beamed down at his dog. Then he looked up at her. “Paperwork?”

  “Right, um …” She reached into a file folder and rifled through all the papers. Adoption forms, receipts, surveys, foster care questionnaires. “Geez. I thought it was here. I think I have to go print out some more copies. It’ll only be a moment.”

  She shook her mouse to wake up her computer, and he crossed his arms impatiently.

  “You know,” she said conversationally, willing her heart to stop beating like it was trying to escape her chest. “I thought you looked familiar. I just realized where I knew you from.”

  He studied her, silently stroking Tito’s ears. Though her eyes were focused on the computer screen, she could tell from the way he tapped his foot that he had no interest.

  “The council meeting!” she said, still moving her mouse aimlessly through various folders. “You were the one who got up and really ripped Mimi Catalano a new one about her stray tax. Weren’t you?”

  She glanced at him, and he visibly stiffened. His voice was low. “I did not get along with that woman.”

  “I could tell that.” She swallowed, wondering how much longer she’d have to stall him for. Venturing a glance out the window, she finally opened a document, then sighed. “Wrong one.”

  She closed the document, and the man fidgeted from foot to foot. “Is this going to take much longer? I have someplace to be.”

  She closed the document. “Not much! Unfortunately, there are rules, and I have to have all my i’s dotted and t’s crossed. You understand.”

  But the more he stood there, the more she could tell that he didn’t understand, and that he was not only getting upset… he was getting suspicious of her stalling tactics. That original reddish tone began to spread under his cheeks, catching like a forest fire.

  “Oh! It might be in here,” she said, opening another file as she furtively glanced out the window. Where was DiNardo? He’d done this before to her, at the lumber yard, and she probably would’ve been killed if it weren’t for Nick. But Nick was nowhere in sight, nor was Mason, or that slow-poke DiNardo. He hadn’t actually said he was on his way. What if he’d ignored her? What if he’d completely forced Audrey’s plea for help from his mind and was sitting down to a nice plate of pasta for lunch, right now?

  “I’ve had enough,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “I’ll give you my address. You find he forms and get back to me. Okay?”

  “No! No, I can’t do that. Legal regulations demand that I—”

  “Listen, Doctor.” She turned to him. His face was lit up, ready to blow like a volcano. She sunk back in her chair as he towered over her. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’ve had enough.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  “I’m sorry,” Audrey squeaked, unable to find more of her voice. She pointed to the computer. “The clinic is new, and my filing system is clearly a mess.”

  She giggled to mask the fear that was gripping her.

  His frown deepened. “Yeah. It is.”

  “But I really do need you to fill out these forms,” she added, trying on her most charming smile.

  That didn’t work either. He leaned closer, his breath sour on her face. Then he nudged the back of her chair. “Fine. Find them. But if you don’t in sixty seconds, I’m out of here.”

  “Okay!” she said, scooting the wheeled chair closer to the computer. He backed away and started to look at a neutering display. Sensing his owner’s unease, Tito lay on the floor, being an extra good boy. She managed another quick glance out the storefront window.

  Eureka. DiNardo was there, walking purposefully for the door.

  Audrey jumped from her seat and ran for it. “One moment!” she called over her shoulder, rushing for the exit, opening the door just as he was about to come inside.

  “Audrey. What was that call all ab—”

  Before he could finish, she nudged the detective out onto the street, as he gave her a look she’d come to be accustomed to. It was the What on earth do you think you’re up to? look. She knew it very well.

  “It’s him,” she whispered, shivering even in the warmth of the early afternoon sun. “I know it is.”

  “It’s… who, exactly?”

  “The killer!” she whispered. “The person who murdered Mimi Catalano. Who else?”

  Scratching his head, he craned his neck to peer in the storefront window. “Yeah, um… Audrey? Let’s not jump to conclusions, shall we?”

  “I’m not jumping to conclusions! He’s really here!” She almost jumped up and down and stomped her feet, but she doubted that would help her case. At least they had him trapped. He couldn’t go anywhere, unless he wanted to rush past DiNardo. And DiNardo was packing heat. At least, she thought so. There was a suspicious bulge under his jacket, near his chest, that she figured was a gun. “I’m sure of it.”

  “Officer Ricci said you sounded pretty sure of yourself this morning, when you nearly tackled that American in the street.”

  Audrey winced. So he’d heard about that?

  “What were you thinking?” he demanded, crossing his arms in front of him. “Did that scene at the lumber yard teach you nothing?”

  “All right. I know I’ve behaved recklessly in the past. But I didn’t this time. I called you to intercede, didn’t I?” She gave him her most innocent look. “So do what you have to do. Question him. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “Fine.” He reached into his pocket. “What did you say this guy’s name was?”

  “Alberto Nucci. He lives by the lake. The stray dog I found was his. He was at a council meeting before Mimi Catalano was killed, and he made no secret of the fact that he hated her guts!” Audrey exclaimed excitedly. “I have a feeling that Mimi Catalano was down by the lake, letting dogs out of their backyards so that she could prove the stray problem was too big a problem for me to handle and encourage euthanasia. He probably caught her. He has tons of motive, and I bet he doesn’t have an alibi.”

  He held up both hands. “Don’t get carried away.
That’s only your theory. Where’s the proof?”

  “Do I have to do everything for you?” She shook her head. “But I do have proof. Remember that collar I found? I had it off the dog because we’d just given him a bath, so it was just sitting on the counter. When he put it on the dog, he said, Thanks for finding the collar. Now, how would he know that the collar was missing if he wasn’t on the beach the day she was killed?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he lost the collar before that? But it doesn’t matter, Audrey. It’ll still be your word against his.”

  “So you’re not going to question him?”

  “I am,” he said, reaching for the door. Before he opened it, he turned back to her. “But I want you to promise me you’ll stay out of it. Capisci?”

  She nodded. If she had to.

  He went inside and stopped short in the doorway. She peered over his shoulder and saw the problem before DiNardo even said, “Now, where is he?”

  She pushed him aside and looked around the reception area. Then she rushed into the back, searching through all the rooms, bewildered. “I don’t know! Where could he have—”

  She stopped when DiNardo pointed down the corridor. There was a dark staircase that she had yet to travel down because it looked like it descended into hell. “Back door?” he asked.

  Of course. Was she stupid? Just because she ignored it didn’t mean it didn’t exist.

  Skipping into a run, Audrey rushed down the stairs. Sure enough, they ended at an old wooden door that was now hanging partially ajar. She threw it open and burst out into a narrow alley that backed up to a solid wood fence. Looking up and down the path, she let out a curse.

  “Back door,” she grumbled, thumping the front of her skull with the heel of her hand.

  She was just about to go back inside when she squinted down the alley and saw a familiar apricot-colored blur in the distance.