But then everything changed when Rose arrived.
For some unfathomable reason, Lane’s favored position was usurped by this young, skinny woman.
Sure, Rose was a good soldier. Very good, in fact.
But it didn’t explain why Eva treated her differently than the others.
Lane was sick with jealousy.
Because her own relationship with her mother had always been rocky—especially after her stepsister had come into the picture as a perfect child—Lane had started to view Eva in a motherly role.
It felt like a betrayal for Eva to give this new girl more attention.
Over the past few months, a stranger from Rome had reached out to Lane a few times through email saying something about how he could make her rich beyond her wildest dreams. She had deleted the emails immediately without reading them.
But one night, bored, she opened the latest one.
It was from a man named Savino. He said he needed her help with something involving the Queen of Spades. He said nobody would get hurt—or at least not killed. Would she be interested? He said he’d heard that there was a new girl at the villa who was giving Lane a hard time.
Lane was instantly paranoid. How would this man know anything? She was afraid. What if it was a trap? What if Eva was testing her.
She deleted the email immediately.
Slowly, as the days crawled by and Eva seemed colder toward Lane and warmer to Rose, her hurt turned to anger and then to hatred.
Savino wrote her again.
The subject line was this: Rose is Eva’s family.
This time Lane opened it and read every word.
It would be easy. She could make Eva pay. But even more than that, she could make Rose pay and her stepsister, Aria, who had ruined her life.
It seemed like the absolute perfect plan.
She wrote back that she was all in.
26
Within thirty minutes of hanging up, Rose was at the airport buying a ticket to Rome.
It was a shot in the dark, but it was all she had.
She was going to go speak to Lane’s mother and sister, Aria.
For all she knew that’s exactly where Eva and Gia were headed too. She’d take that chance. If they wanted to lie to her, she felt no guilt in lying right back.
One of the benefits of taking the train instead of flying was that she could bring her gun and dagger. The heft of the gun in the backpack resting on her lap was reassuring.
Not wanting to waste any time, Rose hired a livery driver at the airport.
A young woman with red hair and a curly-haired baby on one hip opened the door.
“Yes?” the woman said, frowning.
“I’m looking for Mrs. Paci.”
“Oh,” the woman said and looked down. “I’m sorry, she passed away last month. But she wasn’t living here. She sold me this place six months ago when she became ill. She was in hospice. Are you a friend or relative?”
She eyed me.
“An old friend.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Rose nodded. She’d never really known Aria’s mother.
“I’m actually her daughter Aria’s friend. Do you know where I might find her?”
The woman shook her head. “No, she wasn’t around when I bought the place. But you might ask at the hospice.”
After taking down the name of the hospice center, Rose climbed back into the car and gave the driver directions.
The hospice house was on the outskirts of Rome. It was in a wooded area surrounded by flowered bushes. It was lovely, Rose thought as she stepped out of the car.
Inside, she was shown into the director’s office.
The woman had frizzy black hair, silver eyeglasses, and a warm smile.
“I’m looking for my friend, Aria. Her mother was here a few months ago. I’m hoping you might be able to help.”
The woman smiled. “Oh yes, Aria is such a doll. Any mother would be blessed to have a daughter like her.”
Rose smiled back. “Do you know where she is?”
The woman’s smile faded. “We do have to respect the privacy of our patients and their families, I’m sorry.”
Rose inhaled sharply. “I’m afraid she might be in danger.”
The woman tilted her head. “And why is that?”
But she said it in such a calm manner that Rose suddenly knew.
“Elana. Her sister,” Rose said.
By the look on the woman’s face, Rose knew she’d struck gold.
“I’m sorry,” the woman said. She stood and put her palm on her desk. “That’s an active police investigation. Are you a reporter or something?”
“No,” Rose said, her heart pounding. Police investigation?
“I’m really a friend of Aria’s, I swear it.”
The woman examined her and seemed to believe her. “Well, I’m sorry. Good luck finding her. I really have to get back to work.”
Rose stood as well and reached across the desk for the woman’s hand, placing hers over it. “Please.”
The woman searched Rose’s eyes. “What is it to you?”
Rose closed her eyes, swallowed, and then opened them again. “Elana—Lane—murdered my boyfriend.”
She let the words hang there.
The woman sank back down into her seat. “Oh my.”
“She might be after Aria next.”
The woman nodded. “From what I understand, Aria is well aware that Elana is a potential threat.”
“Please help me understand,” Rose said. “She might be after me too.”
The woman stared at Rose for a few seconds and then nodded again.
“I can only tell you what I know firsthand.”
“Okay.”
“Elana was here the day her mother died.”
Rose sat back down, holding her breath as the other woman spoke.
“Her mother had not put her on the visitor’s list so our nurse was surprised when she came into the room and saw her sitting there.
“The nurse was hardly skittish, but she screamed and hit the panic button,” the woman said and looked off out the window. “I can only suspect that she saw something that frightened her.”
She grew strangely quiet.
Rose waited.
After exhaling loudly, the director turned to look at Rose. “Mrs. Paci died right then. And Elana, well, she lost her mind. She attacked the nurse. She put her in a coma. She’s still in hospital. We don’t know if she’ll ever recover. By the time we figured out what was going on and called security, Elana had fled.”
“Oh my God,” Rose said. “I’m so sorry for you and the nurse.”
“The police are still looking for her. If Adeline, God forbid, doesn’t make it, then the police will charge her with murder.”
Rose shook her head and bit her lip.
The woman stood again. “That’s all I know.”
Rose stood as well. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Be careful.”
“I will,” Rose said. “And I hope your nurse recovers.”
“Thank you.”
Rose had her hand on the door and her back to the room when the director spoke again.
“I heard Aria was acting at a small theater in the Esquilino neighborhood. That’s all I know. I could get in trouble for even saying that.”
“Thank you,” Rose said without turning around.
It wasn’t hard to find the theater. There was only one small theater in that area.
There was a show later that night. She had some time to kill before it began.
For a second, Rose considered reaching out to a woman she had met all those years ago in Rome. Violet had helped her and Eva take on the Sultan.
The young woman was the head of a biker gang at the time. After that, she had become an instrumental part of Eva’s operations in Rome. Rose could easily reach out to her, but she worried that if Eva and Gia were in town hunting Lane then they would surely recruit Violet to he
lp.
It would be best to avoid any contact.
No, she would kill time elsewhere.
Rose left and told the driver to take her to Scalinata di Trinità dei Monti—the famous tourist spot that most people knew as the Spanish Steps.
The last time she was there, she’d been running for her life. She’d sought sanctuary at the Steps because she knew it was one of Eva’s favorite places in Rome.
Before Rose stepped out of the car, she looked up at the driver who was holding the door open for her. She hadn’t really paid much attention to him before, just meeting his sunglassed eyes in the rearview mirror to bark orders. He was an attractive man in his twenties. Dark-haired in a suit despite the hot day.
“I’m going to need you until late tonight. Will that work?”
He gave a slight nod.
She climbed out of the car and turned to him.
“Are you hungry?”
“No, signorina.”
She acknowledged his response with her own slight nod but then turned and left.
Cafes surrounded the Spanish Steps, but she knew exactly which one she wanted to dine at. It had tables with umbrellas facing the steps. There was a long line out front. It was 2:00 p.m.
She was about to turn away when her driver brushed past her. He walked straight up to the concierge standing at the podium and said something to him. The concierge, who was balding except small tufts of hair on each side of his head, looked up and met Rose’s eyes. He nodded.
Then the driver walked away, heading off in another direction.
The concierge, who was still staring at Rose, raised his hand, beckoning her. Although she was tempted to look behind her to make sure he was speaking to her, Rose knew he was.
She stepped forward with confidence, past the people waiting in line. When she reached the concierge, he bowed slightly and said in Italian, “Right this way.”
He seated her at what looked like the best table in the outdoor patio of the restaurant.
When he handed her a menu, she didn’t take it. She smiled up at him. “I would be honored if you would order for me, sir. If it’s not too much trouble.”
He bowed and walked away.
Two hours later, Rose was sated. She’d had fresh cantaloupe wrapped in prosciutto, a small dish of pasta with pancetta and parmesan, a sliver of melt-in-your-mouth pork braised in a sweet cherry sauce, a small dish of spumoni, and a small bottle of prosecco.
When the waiter brought her the cantaloupe, she had smiled up at him and asked him to prepare exactly what she was having in to-go boxes for her.
The concierge immediately appeared at her side. “I would be happy to grant you your wish, but I must warn you some of the dishes will not travel well and taste best when eaten immediately.”
She frowned and thought about it for a second.
“I want them for my driver, the man who spoke to you. I don’t think he’s had anything to eat all day, and I expect to keep him busy until late at night.”
They both looked over at the black car parked under a tree a block away.
The concierge tilted his head and said, “I will handle it.”
“I will make it worth your while,” Rose said and then immediately regretted it when she saw the man blanche.
“I don’t do it for a tip, signorina. I do it out of respect.”
Rose blushed. “My apologies. You are right. I appreciate that.”
She tried not to stare as each time a course came out for her, a busboy carried a tray, set with a linen napkin and silverware and covered plate, over to the car. The window would roll down, and the tray would be handed over.
Rose smiled.
For part of the time she spent at the restaurant, Rose watched the Roman people and the tourists on the Spanish Step. Such an interesting crowd: teenagers with backpacks; women carrying designer handbags, wobbling across the cobblestones in kitten heels; tourists in sun visors and fanny packs holding maps; locals still in aprons and uniforms unfolding sandwiches or smoking cigarettes.
When she grew bored of people watching, Rose took out the paperback she’d brought to read on the train. Timothy had given it to her the day before her birthday, saying it was an early present. It was a signed copy of Foucault’s Pendulum by Umberto Eco. Of course, she’d read The Name of the Rose already. Timothy wouldn’t be so obvious as to get her that Eco book.
After getting lost in Eco’s tale, she finished eating and headed back to the car. When she arrived, the driver leaped out and opened the door.
“Thank you. Your choices were excellent,” he said with a small bow.
“It was your friend,” she said. “I asked him to order for me too.”
The driver smiled. “You are a wise woman.”
Woman. The word felt strange. But he was correct. She was no longer a child. She was now eighteen. An adult. A woman.
By this time, it was late enough that Rose could head straight to the theater.
There was already a small crowd waiting outside.
She was relieved to see that nobody was dressed up.
The white cropped top she wore with a jean skirt and Converse sneakers would work just fine. She tugged on a navy cardigan before she stepped out of the car, knowing it would be cool in the theater. Hefting her backpack onto one shoulder, she got in line. She knew the driver would be waiting for her when she stepped out of the theater without her having to call to let him know the show was over.
The theater was small and dark.
Rose waited until everyone in line had settled in and then made her way to an empty row toward the back. She slouched down into the center seat.
Thumbing through social media on her phone, Rose was startled when the lights dimmed and the play started.
Aria was in the first scene.
Even though she looked much different, Rose recognized her immediately. The scar that ran from her lip to her right cheek was faded but still visible. She also had the same big brown eyes, but her hair was no longer frizzy and she’d grown into her chubby cheeks. She was now a slim young woman.
Rose was thrown back to when she had first seen Aria at the holding house where Bruno Savino kept the girls he sex trafficked.
Aria looked like she’d been there much longer than two days. Her hair, which had been bouncy in the photo was dark with grease. She had large circles under her brown eyes. She stared straight ahead in a daze. Rose’s heart sunk. The girl had only been here two days longer than Rose, yet she looked like she’d been there for a year.
After lunch, the girls filed back upstairs. This time Aria and the other two girls came with them.
Rose hesitated so she could walk near Aria. She didn’t want to say anything that the others could hear, but she gave the other girl a small smile.
Aria looked at her blankly.
To Rose’s dismay, Aria got in line for the pills and immediately swallowed hers.
Rose couldn’t blame her. Whatever she’d been through the past few days had probably made the drugs a welcome relief to blot out the misery.
At one point, Rose whispered, “Don’t react, but I know your sister, Lane.”
The girl’s fingers froze. But she didn’t utter a sound or turn to look at Rose.
“I’m here because of her. I’m going to help get you out of here.”
Again, the girl kept her cool. Both she and Rose continued looking straight ahead.
After a few seconds, Rose saw tears dropping on the table in front of the other girl in a slow, steady beat.
Under the table, Rose patted the girl’s leg.
“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered.
“How do you know my sister,” Aria said.
“We train together,” Rose whispered.
The girl’s eyes grew wide.
“Oh.”
“We need to get out of here tonight,” Rose said, staring out over the rooftops.
Later, they were led into what looked like a living room.
�
�Have a seat. Look pretty. The men are here.”
Rose’s stomach clenched.
Aria reached for her hand. “Please don’t let them take me.”
“I won’t,” Rose said but knew it was a lie. She wouldn’t know how to stop them. But she would try her best.
“Does this happen every night?” Rose said in a low voice.
Aria nodded. “The two nights I’ve been here. Yes.”
Although she was afraid of the answer, Rose asked anyway. “Did anyone pick you?”
The girl looked down at her knees.
Rose’s heart sank.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
The girl didn’t answer.
Fury coursed through Rose. Despite rushing to Rome right away, she’d still been too late. Now, the only thing she could do was escape with the girl before this became her new way of life.
But now in the theater, Rose thought, look how great Aria had turned out.
At least it seemed like she had.
Rose hoped so with all her heart. She’d soon find out.
At one point, Aria’s character gazed out into the audience, and Rose swore they made eye contact but then dismissed the idea. She probably couldn’t see much with the stage lights on her.
After the show, Rose didn’t file out with the other audience members but went through an emergency exit door that led to the alley. It was a hunch.
And it paid off.
A few minutes after she got there, Aria came outside with some of the other actors. They were laughing and talking animatedly, but as soon as Aria saw Rose, she stopped.
“Aria?” one of the other actors said, looking alarmed.
“It’s fine,” Aria said. “This is an old friend of mine. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
A heavyset guy with a thick beard and glasses eyed Rose warily.
Rose met his eyes head on, and he nodded. “Okay, then. I’ll see you in a half hour?”
“Great,” Aria said.
Rose looked at him. “I’ll drive her wherever you are meeting.”
He nodded again and left with the group.
When they were alone, Aria smiled at Rose.
“Hi,” she said in a shy voice.
“You were really good in the play.”
Blood & Roses (Vigilante Crime Series) Page 12
