by Fiona Grace
Concetta calmly explained to the woman, but the woman shook her head, her eyes fastened on Audrey, her mouth curved into a deep frown. “No.”
Concetta said, “I’m sorry. Her mind’s made up.”
“But can you ask her why?” Audrey asked, her face flaming. She had never actually had a patient taken away from her. Well, often when she worked at the Back Bay Animal Hospital, people initially requested one of the other doctors in the practice, thinking because of her youthful appearance that she was an intern or technician who wasn’t capable of handling the heavy issues. She’d usually been able to win them over, but still, having to work twice as hard as the male doctors to prove herself had been one of the more annoying aspects of her job. That wasn’t supposed to happen in her own practice, where her name was on the door.
Concetta gently spoke to the woman, but it was clear from her tone of voice that it wasn’t anything good. Concetta finally said, “She just wants a second opinion. And her decision is final.”
Audrey frowned. Is her decision because she already heard about the murder and my possible involvement in it? She may have been a newcomer to Mussomeli, but she’d been there long enough to know that news—especially juicy gossip like that—travelled extremely fast around town. The streets were full of it.
“All right, right this way,” she said, leading her into the back room.
She helped the woman get Bambino prepared for travel and watched sadly as the two left the clinic. Audrey knew she had no choice, but saving animals was her life, and this felt like a failure. There was only one thing she could think of that would fix things. And that was finding out who the true killer was, so that she could resume business as usual without her customers doubting her.
“Don’t worry,” Concetta said brightly after the woman had left, “Cheer up. It’ll be okay. I’m sure the vet in Palermo will give her the same diagnosis.”
“Yes,” she murmured. “But I wanted to be the one to save him.”
“You can’t save every animal.”
“But I can try,” she whispered. This time, I failed.
“Hey,” Concetta said, checking her phone. “You have your date tonight, right? With the American hunk?”
Audrey stared at her. The change of subject was so jarring that at first it didn’t compute. Date? What date? American hunk? Who was that?
But suddenly, it came flooding back. She did have a date. With Mason.
And after everything she’d been through today, she felt like the walking dead. She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea that I go. Not with everything going on. Plus, I’m so tired. I should probably—"
“Nonsense! What better way to get your mind off it all?”
“Yes, but you’ve been at the clinic almost twenty-four hours straight, Concetta, and I’m not a slave-driver. I promised I’d relieve you when I got back from the grove, and now I—”
“Fine, relieve me,” she said with a smile. “Now that Bambino is gone, we don’t need to stay here twenty-four hours. All the other animals will be just fine overnight.”
Audrey hesitated. She did have a point. But she wasn’t sure if she wanted to do the suitor-juggling thing right now, after all that had happened. It felt like stirring a can of worms that she should just leave alone. “But—”
“Come on, Doctor,” Concetta said, grabbing her jacket and keys and donning some fashionable sunglasses. “You need to go. That man has it bad for you. Don’t break his beautiful heart.”
With a wave, Audrey’s vet intern stepped out the door.
Audrey stood there, rehashing the whole Bambino incident, and cringing. Yes, it would be nice to get her mind off things, and Mason, as an American, was probably the person she related to best.
I’ll keep it a friendly get-together, she told herself to keep the pressure off. Not a date.
But she wasn’t sure she could trust Mason to follow her lead. What if he only complicated things?
Groaning, she slid into the chair and sighed. I’ll cancel.
Then she thought of his cute little dimple. And how her sister, Brina, seemed to think they were a match made in heaven.
Or not.
She buried her face in her hands and let out a long, agonized groan.
CHAPTER TEN
At seven that night, Mason rapped on the door.
Audrey felt like the dead. She’d showered, changing into a nice sundress, and put her hair into a bun, applying light lip gloss and mascara, hoping to get into the right, festive kind of mood. But it hadn’t helped much. The bruise on her forehead was still terrible, she had about a thousand itchy mosquito bites from the orange grove, and yet those were the least of her problems.
It was too much to think about. But she was glad she hadn’t cancelled on Mason, because she really didn’t feel like being alone, either.
She opened the door to reveal her handsome neighbor from via Milano. He was freshly showered, his cinnamon hair a little wet, and carrying a picnic basket. Those ice-blue eyes settled on her and his perfect lips spread into a smirk, revealing those dimples and perfectly white teeth. He had the same effect on her as always—she started to smolder. She fought the urge to fan her face.
“Hi. What’s that?” she said, pointing at the basket.
When he drawled, “How y’all doing, Boston?” it still managed to tug on her heartstrings, even with everything going on. The man was all about jeans and cowboy boots. She’d never seen him in anything else. “It’s a surprise. What happened there?”
He was looking at her forehead. “Don’t ask.”
“Something with the house renovations? You know you could’ve asked me, if you needed the help.”
Oh, she did. She probably would’ve, if he hadn’t asked her on this date. But now, things felt strained. She didn’t tell him that, though. Instead, she said, “I’m going to. At the end of the night. My faucet’s leaking.”
“Which one?”
“Kitchen.”
“Didn’t you just replace that?”
“Yes. But apparently I did it wrong.”
He cocked his head to one side to look over her shoulder. His eyes always seemed to gleam with excitement whenever there was something that needed his magic wizard’s touch. “I can—"
“No, no. Later!” Turning out the kitchen light, she looked over to his right and saw Polpetto, his giant adopted mastiff, wagging his tail excitedly. She leaned over to pet him. “Is this a pet-friendly evening?”
“Yep.” He shrugged. “I figured you’d appreciate.”
She smiled, patting her heart, touched. Jewels and flowers might be the way to the hearts of some women; animals had always been the way into hers. “I love it.” She looked around. “But where’s Nick?”
He motioned to a crack between her house and the one beside it. “Took one look at old Polp here and bolted.”
Audrey sighed. Their pets had always had a rather tenuous relationship. “Oh well. I guess he’ll catch up.” She closed the door behind her and stepped off the stoop. “Lead the way.”
They headed down toward the outside of town, which was great, since the last thing Audrey wanted to do was run into G. Or the police. Or, really, anyone, after the way that Bambino’s owner had treated her. When they got to the steps that led down to the lake, he turned back to her. “You okay with this?”
“I’m fine. Thanks,” she said, following him, even though she wasn’t sure she would be able to climb up, later. The run up from the orange grove had been a killer. But she stepped after him, trying her best to be agreeable and enjoy it, since he’d clearly put a lot of thought into it. “Are we going to the lake?”
He nodded. “Best place to watch the sunset.”
“Oh?” It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Not because she’d once found a body on the beach, a couple months ago. Not because it was a favorite place of poor strays who had no place to go.
It was because it sounded romantic. Really romantic. They’d be
alone, watching the sunset . . . could anything spell romance more clearly?
As usual, the stone staircase to the beach was busy with people, coming back from their exercise and strolls around the gorgeous lake. Luckily, Audrey didn’t happen upon her neighbor Nessa; this was her favorite running trail, and of course, if she’d heard the latest rumors, she’d be sure to get her digs in about how Audrey had been implicated in yet another murder.
Mason plucked the front of his t-shirt and sniffed. “Gee. Do I smell, or what?”
“What do you mean?” she asked nonchalantly, carefully watching her step as she took the steep stairs.
“Everyone’s looking at me like they want to kill me.”
“What?” She paused.
“Did you notice how people are looking at me?”
The first person she saw, a woman in a ponytail, glared at her. She took another step and noticed more, staring at her. Those whose eyes she caught seemed to scowl in disgust. Some of them stepped aside, as if they were afraid that she’d pull a gun on them. Did all the town already know?
“It’s not you,” she mumbled.
“Then who?” He laughed. “You? What’d you do now, Boston?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
They reached the bottom of the staircase and walked the long, tree-lined path to the clearing, where the sandy white beach spread out before them. Beyond that, the lake itself was like a mirror, reflecting the dying sun. It was like a postcard.
Polpetto rushed ahead, after a butterfly, like a giddy puppy, snapping his jaws in the air, trying to catch the thing. Mason stopped at the edge of the lake and pulled out a blanket, which he laid out on the sand. “So . . . how was your trip?”
She’d been staring out at the placid scenery, thinking how nature could seem so beautiful, even while a murder was taking place. Here. The orange grove. She shuddered. “Uh, what?”
“Your trip?” Confused, she still stared at him until he said, “I asked you if you needed anything yesterday and you told me you were going up to Montagna to see if you could find your dad? Did you?”
“Oh! Right.” She barely remembered the conversation. She’d been vague about it to everyone, but Concetta and him. “No. Dead end.”
“That’s a shame.” He motioned for her to sit.
She dropped to her knees, and he did, on the other side of the blanket. He opened the flap of the picnic basket, and immediately she smelled something delicious. He pulled out a big basket of fried chicken and biscuits. Delicious American food. The Colonel couldn’t have done it better.
“You made this?”
He shrugged humbly. “You can take the kid out of the south, but you can’t take the south out of the kid. I’ve been dying for good fried chicken since I landed my butt here. You like it?”
She nodded. Even though she hadn’t had much appetite, up to now, she was surprised to find her mouth watering. “Absolutely.”
He brought out a carton of fruit salad and spooned a little on a plate for her, then handed her a biscuit and drumstick. Then he poured two glasses of wine.
She peeled the crispy skin off the chicken and took a nibble of it. Wow. This man knows how to cook. “This is great.”
Mason leaned back on his elbows, his legs stretched out and crossed in front of him, staring at the lake. “I know.”
She wanted to smack him. There was that ego again. “Aren’t you eating?”
“Yep. But I want to see what you think, first.” Polpetto came bounding up, and he tossed him some meat off the drumstick, which the dog eagerly took. “All right, boy. Here you go, Polp.”
She stared at the overflowing bucket. “I don’t think the three of us can eat all this.”
He shrugged as he sipped his wine. “We have all night.”
Audrey yawned on cue, and her skin began to tickle like it’d been marred by a thousand mosquito bites. She scratched at it. “Probably not all night. I have to get back. I have all these bites . . .”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out some insect repellant, which he tossed to her.
“I didn’t know you were a boy scout,” she said, a little sourly, because now, all of her excuses to go home were gone.
He rolled over on his side and looked at her. “I didn’t know you were in such a rush to get away from me.”
“I’m not!” she protested. She looked down at her plate. Sure, she might not have felt that way, but that was probably how it looked. She couldn’t blame him for thinking it. “I’m sorry. You’re amazing. This was so nice. And . . .”
And I’m feeling guilty because my mind’s not on the date, and because I’m going to have to let one of you go.
“It’s not you. I promise you.”
“Then what is it?”
“Just . . . a lot on my mind.”
There was a silence, in which the only sound was that of the small waves, lapping at the shore.
“Not a problem. You want to talk about it?”
She didn’t, really. She wanted to go back to her room, away from people who might accuse her with their eyes, and hole up in her bed. She stared at her wine. She didn’t even have the appetite for that, after the earlier Prosecco. But when she looked up, he was staring at her, and his eyes were the first she’d seen in a long time that weren’t accusing. They were sympathetic.
So, she said, “Those people were staring at me because they must think I’m a killer.”
He let out a laugh. When she didn’t laugh along with him, he said, “That murder of that councilwoman is water under the bridge. They can’t possibly think you did it. The murderer was caught, remem—”
“There’s been another murder,” she said.
“Come on.”
“It’s true. Everyone in town knows about it. Why don’t you? What rock were you hiding under?”
His eyes widened in astonishment. “I was under the house all day. Working on my crawl space. There was a murder? Who? Where?”
“In that orange grove outside of town.”
“You mean that mafia place?”
At least he wasn’t completely oblivious to the gossip. “Right.”
“And what do you have to do with that?”
“I got a call that there was an injured animal out there, so I went to see if I could help. And instead—” She stopped, gauging how she wanted to tell the story. If she told him about that lunch with Rafael, would that qualify as a date? Would he be jealous? Better to steer away from that. “Instead, I found the body.”
“So why would they think you had anything to do with it?”
“I don’t know.”
“I mean, the place is mafia. What do they expect to happen at places like that? Flower festivals?”
“No one knows for sure if it’s mafia. The owner didn’t really look the type. He seemed nice, not like a—”
“You met the owner?”
She nodded.
“You think everyone in the mafia looks like Marlon Brando?”
“No, but . . . I mean, maybe he was mafia. I don’t know. The police questioned him, and I think he gave them the impression that I was the killer.”
“Now why would they think that?”
“Because I was trespassing, and because he sneaked up on me and scared me, made me nervous. So I guess I just look guilty.”
“But you’re not. Anyone who knows you knows that,” he said. “So I wouldn’t worry.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t get it. If the mafia has the local police in their pocket, and is setting me up as their patsy, then it doesn’t matter if I’m guilty. I’ll go to jail.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “But you said you don’t know if he is mafia.”
“I don’t, but . . .”
“Seems to me that’s the first thing you need to find out.”
She put her drumstick down and took a sip of wine, then settled down on the blanket and tried to get comfortable. “I guess. I just wish that it wasn’t me, finding all these dead bodies. I
t’s no wonder the police are suspicious of me. Did I tell you I found one in Lipari?”
He nodded, and she remembered the conversation. It seemed like ages ago, even though it was just last week. With everything happening to her, it felt like she hadn’t a second to catch her breath.
And she definitely didn’t have the time to focus on picking a boyfriend. Even with a perfect one, staring her straight in the eye. How could she?
“That’s some bad luck, Boston.”
“I think I’m cursed.” And maybe, if I decide to date you more than casually, my bad luck will rub off on you.
He tilted his head toward the moon, and his hair tousled in the breeze. “Nah. Look at it this way. You’re here, in the most beautiful place on Earth.”
She smiled. He was right; the sky was dazzling pink, dappling oranges and purples all over the placid lake, and all above them, stars were beginning to pop out. The beach’s sand was warm and pleasant between her toes. It was quiet and calm, without another soul in sight, like one of those moments she wanted to bottle and keep, forever.
He continued, “With the most beautiful guy on Earth.”
This time, she did reach over and smack him. As egotistical as he could be, she knew he was only kidding.
He chuckled and sat up, wiping his hands on his jeans to get rid of the sand. “Come on. You look tired. Eat up, and I’ll take you home. What you probably need is a good night’s sleep. Not all the excitement I can provide.”
She shook her head. “But you went through all this trouble.”
“Yeah. And I’ll hold it against you at a later date, too. Eat.”
She laughed and finished the food on her plate, as he told her a little bit about the renovations he’d been doing in his house. Contrary to Audrey’s place, his was almost done, and now he was just putting on a number of finishing touches. He was building a massive dog house for Polpetto on the back patio, fit for a king. Funny, considering he used to say he didn’t like pets. Now, he and Polpetto were inseparable.
When she was done, she finished her wine. “Strange. I was in such a bad mood. But now I actually feel better. So thank you.”
