“Tell your Uncle Rinaldo what your father is like. Uncle Rinaldo says that your father does not care about us.”
“He does!” Diego shot back. His eyes quickly scanned over to the bread and chocolate-hazelnut spread. “Mama, may I?”
“Of course,” Sofia said, softening and giving him a little cuddle. “Now sit down, my lovely boy, and tell us about your father.” She began to spread three pieces of bread. “I’ll make you some sweet tea, too, love.”
Rinaldo looked at Diego. “I did not say your father does not care about you.”
“Yes, you did,” said Sofia. “Or at least you implied it.”
“My father is wonderful,” Diego said. “Much better than you. You work in a field. He owns the field. He is rich and buys me lots of treats and clothes, and he will buy me a car very soon,” he said. “He cannot come and live with us because he lives with an evil witch called Chiari.” The young boy said the name like it was some kind of infectious disease. “But one day he will defeat her, and come and live with us forever and ever.”
Rinaldo sighed and stared out the window, absentmindedly munching on his bread. “Is that a fact?”
“Yes,” Diego said with conviction.
Sofia got up to put the kettle on the stove. “Uncle Rinaldo says your father is lying.”
Diego thumped Rinaldo on his arm. “He is not lying!”
“Don’t do that, Diego,” Sofia said, but in a rather lackluster tone. When she turned away to fix the kettle, she had a small smile on her face.
“You are the liar!” Diego shouted at Rinaldo. “You are just jealous of him. Jealous of us. Everybody is jealous of us.” He stuffed a large piece of bread in his mouth and spoke through it. “My father is a hero. You are a… big fat zero.”
Rinaldo sighed. He couldn’t work up anger for the child. Obviously Bruno, in his deceit, and Sofia, in her utter stupidity, had poisoned his mind. “Well, fine then,” he said, getting up. “I will go out for a while. To look for work.”
“Yes, go,” Sofia said. “And don’t think you can still sleep here if you have terrible things to say about Bruno. I don’t care if you sleep on the street, if that’s your attitude. Fix your mouth before you come back. Bruno is the love of my life and that is that.”
Rinaldo shrugged as he walked out of the house and closed the front door behind him.
CHAPTER 4
Luigi’s vineyards and sprawling castle were on the way to Deborah’s, where Kat and Blaine were staying.
“I am honored to ask you to have dinner at my home tonigt,” Luigi said from his seat behind the wheel of the Maybach.
“Thank you,” Blaine said.
Kat smiled. “We’d love to.”
“We’ll stop first at Luigi’s, and then we’ll head over to my place,” Deborah said, turning around in her seat to look back at them. Kat just loved the way her eyes sparkled and danced. She was so glad to see her friend truly happy. “I want you to get unpacked and see the house before it gets dark. And my own vineyard. It’s a baby vineyard, compared to Luigi’s.”
The afternoon sun laid a golden veneer over the Italian countryside. The sky was deepening into a lilac color as the sun began to set. The green of the vineyards became lusher and richer in the changing light.
“These are my vineyards,” Luigi said. “Well, the Giordano vineyards, to be more precise. They will pass to my sons when I die.” He laughed and said, “Hopefully I’ve got a few good years left.”
“I should hope so!” Deborah said, “After all, you’re only fifty-five.
“How many sons do you have?” Kat asked.
“Two,” Luigi said.
“They’re wonderful young men,” Deborah said. “They both work in Florence. Leo’s a financial analyst, and Matteo’s a lawyer. They come down and see Luigi quite regularly.”
Luigi laughed. “By the time I’m gone, I’m hoping they’ll have cultivated some kind of vague interest in wine, although I’m afraid there’s not an inkling of it so far. As it stands now, my vineyards will go to seed under their care.”
The vineyards, which stretched out before them as they drove, seemed to be never-ending.
“Are all these yours?” Kat asked.
Luigi laughed and said, “I’m afraid so.”
“The castle is the real jewel in the crown,” said Deborah. “Wait until you see it, Kat.” Kat knew Deborah wasn’t boasting. She was just enjoying the dream that her life had become since she’d had the courage to pack up her things in Lindsay, Kansas, and venture half way around the world to start a new life. She wanted to share her joy with Kat, and Kat was touched by it.
“Oh, but it is a nightmare to clean,” Luigi said modestly. “My mother, God bless her soul, if she were still alive, would be on her hands and knees day and night scrubbing the place. Unfortunately, I do not have her stamina, and have had to bring in some help.”
“Look, look, it’s coming up!” Deborah said, clapping her hands with excitement, and turning back to look at Kat and Blaine to see their reaction.
They rounded a bend in the huge Maybach, and…
“Wow!” Kat exclaimed.
The castle, nestled as it was in the Italian countryside and surrounded by lush green vineyards, looked like some sort of a famous landscape painting. Or perhaps, Kat thought, a backdrop on a movie set or theater. In the early evening sunset, it had a dreamy quality that made it look ethereal. If you blinked your eyes, it might disappear, like something out of a fairytale.
It was a vast stone building, rising up and away from the vines of the vineyards and the terraced lawns that surrounded it. It would have looked like quite an austere stone fortress, if it weren’t for two things – one, the soft brown color of the stones, and two, the abundance of greenery in the adjoining grounds. Trees stood all around, and vines and climbers crept all over the castle’s face, until it looked quite soft and welcoming.
“That’s really something,” Blaine said.
“It sure is,” Kat said. “It must be like living in a storybook.”
“For a while,” Luigi said. “Then it becomes normal, like most other things in life.”
His statement sounded quite profound, but Kat wasn’t sure what to make of it. “What do you mean, Luigi?” she asked.
“I came from a poor family, Ms. Denham. I was determined to make my way out of a life where we had holes in our shoes and some days we had no food for dinner. But I found out money was not everything.”
Blaine nodded. “I’ve come to a similar realization about that,” he said. “What made you realize it?”
“Well, as a young boy I got a job carrying farm produce from our small rural village into town for market,” Luigi said. “Soon I traded in the market myself, and before long I was doing much bigger deals. I was very afraid of being poor, and all I could think about was money and how to make more and more of it. But what I have come to realize is money can prevent you from suffering from poverty, but it cannot prevent you from suffering from many other things. A broken heart is one of these things.”
“Very true,” Kat said.
“The mother of my boys, my late wife, died when my boys were nine and seven. I had not paid nearly enough attention to them. I realized this when, after she died, I was faced with raising two young children who were almost strangers to me. I could not even remember their birthdays. All I had done was work and work and work. I measured the success of each day by how much money I had made that day. I kept detailed records of how much I made every day. I had not taken one moment to slow down and cherish what I had.”
The atmosphere in the car had changed. It was deep and somber, but not uncomfortable.
“Unfortunately, it was too late for me to reconnect with my wife,” Luigi said. “But I put my heart and soul into raising my sons.”
“Thank goodness,” Deborah said. “They really needed you. And now you have a great relationship with both of them.”
Luigi smiled. “Yes, thank God. I feel I am se
eing the fruits of my labor. Both my boys are doing well, and are happy with their partners. And I…” He breathed out as he looked across at Deborah. “And I… was blessed with a rare American flower, who happened to bloom in Florence.”
Sitting in the back seat with Blaine, Kat looked at him with a sentimental smile and squeezed his hand. Luigi’s open, romantic ways were really quite refreshing.
They drove past the castle and traveled on in silence for a while until they arrived in a suburban neighborhood with large modern homes. They turned right onto a tree-lined avenue, then drove a short way down it.
“Here we are,” Deborah said. “Home sweet home.”
“Oh, is this your house?” Kat asked. “It’s lovely!”
“Thanks,” Deborah said with a smile.
It really was lovely. It was an intriguing mix between classical Italian architecture and the modern glass and polished steel look that was so popular these days.
There was a rounded portico in the center, set in front of the double front doors, with gleaming rounded steps leading up to the doors, and equally gleaming pillars holding it all in place. Then the building jutted out at each side in orderly right angles. Floor to ceiling glass windows were positioned on each side of the doors, and now that it was just beginning to get a little dark, the golden lights inside the house illuminated the interior and made the whole place look magical. The house was painted white and its flat roof had sleek detailing where it met the walls, making the whole thing look smooth and modern.
“Aww, Primo!” Deborah said as she got out of the car.
A huge dark brown dog came bounding up to her. It had a black muzzle and looked so intimidating that Kat thought twice about getting out of the car. “Whoa, Deborah, that’s quite a dog.”
Deborah laughed. “He won’t bite or anything. He’s got a very good sense of who’s a good person and who’s here to make trouble. He’ll be absolutely fine with you.” She looked back at Kat’s nervous face. “Still, I’ll hold his collar.”
Blaine was already out of the car, and Kat decided she’d take her chances. She wasn’t usually afraid of dogs, in fact, she loved them. Her own two dogs, Jazz and Rudy, brought great joy to her life, but she’d also had some bad experiences with other dogs in the past. “I don’t recognize the breed,” she said to Deborah. “What is he?”
“A cane corso,” Deborah said. “He’s an ancestor of the Neapolitan Mastiff.”
“Okay,” Kat said. “I’m unfamiliar with the breed.”
“They’re great guard dogs,” Luigi said, hauling their suitcases out of the trunk.
“I got him from the family that sold me the house,” Deborah said. “They couldn’t take him with them when they moved. Thankfully he warmed up to me quickly. He’s really a wonderful dog.”
“You always wanted a dog, didn’t you?” Kat said.
“Yes, but my ex-husband was allergic to them,” Deborah said with a laugh. “I should have gotten rid of him a long time ago and had a dog instead. Would have been better company.” Everyone laughed.
Primo edged toward Kat, looking at her with suspicion.
“I’ll pet him once he gets used to me,” Kat said nervously. “And not a moment before.”
Deborah laughed as they walked up to the front door. “If he can scare you, Kat, he can scare anybody.”
“That’s true enough,” Luigi said. “I’ve been hearing all about your detective exploits, Kat.”
“And worrying me sick,” Blaine said, while nudging Kat and giving her a quick smile. “I feel like I must be married to the bravest woman in the world.”
“I’m sure you do,” Deborah said. “You’re one of a kind, Kat Denham.” Then she put the key in the front door and opened it.
The entrance to Deborah’s house was truly gorgeous. The house was large with four bedrooms, but by no means a mansion on the scale of Luigi’s castle. Still, it had a two-story entrance hall with an elaborate glass skylight and a curved white staircase that led to the upper floor.
“My, my, my!” Kat said. “Look how we’re living it up!”
Deborah blushed. “Oh, stop. Italians just like a little grandeur, is all.”
“Such interesting architecture,” Blaine said, looking around. There were quite a few curved surfaces and walls, including an unusual design where all the rooms led into the hallway, with their own curved entrance spaces. “What a unique home.”
“Thank you,” Deborah said. “I think my favorite thing about it is the high ceilings.”
“I just love how you’ve decorated it,” Kat said. Almost everything was white with bronze and gold accents. The dark heavy wooden doors contrasted beautifully with the color scheme. There was some elaborate white plasterwork at the top of various pillars, which added a more classical Italian flair, but overall the house had a very clean, modern feel to it. The floor was marble, with decorative circular patterns with tiny flashes of gold, bronze, orange, and turquoise at each doorway.
“I actually didn’t do any of the decorating,” Deborah said. “Not even the furniture. It was all included when I bought the house. The prior owners moved to England to renovate a large country manor, and they said this sort of furniture would stand out like a sore thumb in their new home. They were going to go ‘antiquing’, as they called it, to buy furniture. Now please follow me, and I’ll take you to your room.”
Kat and Blaine were delighted with the guestroom Deborah led them to. Not only did it have a wonderfully luxurious four-poster bed, it had thick cream colored rugs, a two-person jacuzzi tub in the gleaming bathroom, and a large balcony overlooking the back garden.
“Oh, Deborah!” Kat said as they all stepped onto the balcony. “You’re spoiling us.”
Deborah gave her a quick side-hug and a grin. “Glad to be able to. After all, you saved my life, so it’s the least I can do,” she said referring to when the coed’s murderer had threatened to take Kat and Deborah’s lives before Deborah had left Lindsay for Italy.
Blaine rested his hands on the railing and looked out over the garden. “This outdoor space you have is just beautiful.”
“Thanks,” Deborah said. “I have some fruit trees, and I’m starting a vegetable garden. That’s in addition to the vineyard which is located towards the back of the property. I’m thinking of what else I should do. Perhaps a little swimming pool, or an ornamental pond. I’m considering a number of possibilities. That is… if I’m going to be staying here for long. Who knows?” She smiled at Luigi, her eyes full of light and love. “Now, who’s hungry? Let’s head over to Luigi’s and have dinner.”
CHAPTER 5
Chiari Lombardi was a master at hiding her emotions. She wasn’t born that way, it was a skill she’d learned over the years she’d been with Bruno.
It all started on her wedding night. Her family was from Lazio, the district on the Italian mainland where they were prominent members of society. Her parents had moved to Sardinia for business purposes, and she and her much younger brothers and sisters were the first generation of the family to be born in Sardinia, and as such, much was expected of them. The family had quite a fearsome reputation in Lazio for getting the best of the best, and stopping at nothing to get it. Everyone’s eyes were firmly locked on the new Sardinian branch of the family. There was an unspoken warning always hanging in the air: Don’t let the Romano family down.
So she had done what she was meant to do – find a handsome, wealthy young suitor to marry. At first she’d been in love with Salvatore, but she’d been quickly talked out of that match by both the Romano and the Lombardi family. His head was full of dreams, they said. He wanted to be a politician so he could help disadvantaged people, an idea which seemed utterly idealistic and even childish to them. Chiari had thought it was romantic, but she’d quickly been set straight by her elders and by Bruno.
Bruno had filled every box on her family’s checklist. Rich. Forward (some would even say aggressive). Confident. Well-bred. Ambitious. He fit in better with Chia
ri’s family than she did herself. She, with her sensitive heart and dreams of making the world a better place, had always felt like somewhat of an outcast. Her family clearly thought there was something slightly wrong with her, although they never quite said as much, but when Bruno was around, they embraced her. They kept saying things like, “You’re making the Romanos so very proud,” and her hungry heart lapped it all up.
On the day of her wedding, the family beamed and clapped as she was escorted down the aisle by her father, but that night, when Bruno had become angry when she had mentioned Salvatore’s name.
He was drunk from far too much wedding wine. In their wedding suite at one of Sardinia’s most prestigious hotels, she said it was a shame Salvatore had not been able to attend the wedding. Bruno hit the roof, called her all sorts of disgusting names, and said that if she ever mentioned Salvatore’s name again, she would have a bruise or a scar to remember the incident by.
It was then, with her heart feeling like it was breaking inside her chest, that Chiari realized she had trapped herself in a cage. But life with Bruno hadn’t turned out to be all bad. In fact, he could often be absolutely charming, especially when he was happy. He went all out and bought her many gifts. Not just expensive ones, but thoughtful ones, that showed he really knew her taste and cared for her. He let her spend money however she pleased, and never once berated her about it.
They tried to have a child for many years. Chiari had always imagined herself being a mother with umpteen little ones running around her feet. Her own mother had been quite cold, which had always made Chiari feel alone, but Chiari’s aching heart had all the love in the world to give. But it wasn’t to be. After a raft of tests, and hundreds and thousands of dollars spent on every treatment under the sun, her doctor finally said, “It’s just not going to happen, Mrs. Lombardi.”
After she’d heard the sad pronouncement by her doctor, Chiari had mourned terribly. She’d written baby name lists in the back of her diaries since she was about eleven years old. Long ago she’d decided on Diego Domenico for a boy and Vittoria Noemi for a girl.
Murder in Italy Page 3
