Dead of Spring: An Alexa Williams Novel

by Sherry Knowlton

  Susan chattered away as she and Alexa followed. “We have tickets for the Uffizi tomorrow and then the Galleria Accademia later in the day. We knew you’d want to see Michelangelo’s David. Today, we planned on wandering around the city center and visiting the Duomo and the Ponte Vecchio. We love this one restaurant on the Piazza della Signoria. They have outstanding pizza. We thought we’d have lunch there and people-watch.”

  “If there’s time, we’ll go through the Boboli Gardens,” her dad tossed a comment over his shoulder.

  Alexa’s head was spinning in a good way. “It all sounds great. Maybe I can change into something cooler in your room? It’s a lot warmer here than in Pennsylvania. I got this really cute striped top from Bloomies, very European.”

  Although the ancient city teemed with tourists, the excitement energized Alexa after her long flight. The clear Mediterranean light seemed to drive away the heartbreak and horror of the last few months at home. John’s homicide and the deaths of Senator Martinelli, Lauren, the Capitol cops―Alexa could feel the weight of those tragedies start to fall from her shoulders. She welcomed the breather, even if just for a couple of weeks.

  “Beautiful colors.” As they waited in line to enter, the Duomo’s walls of green, pink, and white marble shimmered in the sun. Inside, the huge sanctuary provided a cool respite from the warm morning. Listening to the audio-tour on headphones, Alexa was thrown off guard when she looked up to take in the massive curved dome of the cathedral. For a moment, she flashed back to the State Capitol dome. But this structure was much more ornate. The inner dome was decorated with rows and rows of circular paintings embellished with gold leaf depicting the Last Judgment. With satisfaction, Alexa pictured the faces of Walter Toland and Nason Kurtz on two of the bodies spilling headlong into the flames of Hell burning in the lower section of the painting. Then she shook off the disconcerting image. She had come here to get away from all the bad memories―and to have a good time.

  Outside the Duomo, Norris said, “We can go up to the top of the Duomo if you want.”

  “Up there?” Alexa asked in disbelief.

  “Yeah. There’s a separate line, and you have to climb up the stairs; almost five hundred of them. But you see the inside of the dome. And then you come out up there on the tippy top. They call that tiny section at the top of the dome, a lantern.”

  “I’ll pass.” Alexa shivered at the memory of Senator Martinelli’s body falling through the air. “You sound like you’ve made the climb.”

  “I went up the first time we were here,” Norris bragged.

  “While I stayed on the ground and shopped. In fact, I picked up this lovely scarf at the outdoor market stalls that day.” Susan fluffed the lightweight silk confection looped stylishly around her neck. As usual, her mother’s most casual outfit made Alexa feel underdressed.

  “Where’s that place for pizza? I’d much rather eat than climb . . . how high?”

  “Not quite four hundred feet,” Norris supplied the number.

  “Like I said.” Alexa rolled her eyes at her mother.

  “No problem. There are a couple of other vantage points. Looking out over the red tile rooftops is a wonderful sight.” Norris smiled. “But that’s for later. Let’s go have pizza.”

  Over lunch, Alexa briefed her parents on everything that had happened since John’s death. Around them, the Piazza della Signoria bustled with tourists. The brick, castle-like structure of the Palazzo Vecchio with its tall tower loomed over the huge plaza. The replica statue of David kept watch over the line of outdoor cafés, their tight rows of tables overflowing with diners. These sights had entranced Alexa when they’d been first seated at the café. Now she barely noticed as she fought back tears in the face of her parents’ concern.

  Norris leaned forward. The slanting afternoon sun highlighted the worry lines on his forehead. “You told us a little bit about your escape from this man, Kurtz. But, we had no idea the extent―”

  “Honey, this is absolutely appalling,” Mom cut in. “He chased you and this legislator all over the capitol building? Two policemen were killed?” Susan’s hand trembled on her wine glass, splashing the house red onto the table.

  Alexa watched the wine trickle across the white tablecloth like a rivulet of blood. She closed her eyes, willing away the image of Senator Martinelli’s broken head, bleeding onto the rotunda tiles. “What? Yes, two policemen. And the representative, Walt Jordan―he was wounded.”

  A tall waiter rushed to the table with a cloth to blot the spilled wine. “Mi scusi, signora.” He offered the wine bottle. “Vorresti più vino? More wine?”

  “Per favore.”

  Taking advantage of the break, Alexa studied the fountain across the piazza in silence. When the waiter left, her father leapt right back into the conversation.

  “My God, Lexie. How do you get yourself involved in these dangerous situations?” Norris asked.

  Alexa put down her slice of pizza to protest. “It’s not like I go looking for trouble. It just seems to find me.”

  “We’re just glad you’re safe,” Susan stepped in to defuse the tension.

  “I am safe. And the bad guys, these lobbyists and their buddies, are going to jail for multiple murders. So Senator Martinelli; my young intern friend, Lauren; and two capitol cops are going to get the justice they deserve. John’s killers are going to be prosecuted. I just wish they’d been able to prove that Monongas had a role in all of this. Maybe someone there will still be arrested. But there are too many layers between the energy company masterminds and the people they pay to do their dirty work. At least this scandal has ruined the chances for any expansion of fracking in Pennsylvania for the near future. Everybody knows the industry was behind this―and there’s been a tremendous backlash.”

  “I heard about that from Silas Gabler. I guess he’s had a real rough time of it, just stepping into that new role as head of the energy committee when all hell broke loose.”

  “More than that. From his remarks at that hearing on the bill, Silas seemed totally invested in getting the bill passed. He sounded like a real cheerleader for opening up public land to fracking and more. So he must be pretty bummed his side lost. Plus, he lost his executive director, Keisha Washington. I heard she’s turning state’s evidence to avoid a jail term, but she’ll never work in State government again.”

  “Silas didn’t mention that. Of course, he might be embarrassed that her actions will reflect badly on him. That he exercised poor judgment when he hired her.”

  “Whatever. Let’s just say I can’t feel too bad for your old friend, Silas.”

  Susan jumped in. “I understand this whole fracking issue and the lawless actions of these people make you see red, Alexa. But, I hope you can find some charity in your heart for Silas. You know he’s been a family friend forever.”

  “I know. But after working with Uncle Silas on that trafficking commission, and now, knowing his position on fracking―a little bit of the shine has worn off.” Alexa turned to her father. “Sorry, Dad. I know he’s your friend.”

  Susan and Norris exchanged a quick glance.

  “What?” Alexa knew they were holding something back.

  “We didn’t plan it this way, but Silas and Cynthia are coming over to stay with us on Saturday. We had wanted to spend the time alone with you, dear. Then Silas called. Said he needed a break and the only time he could make it is next week. I guess the Senate’s in recess. We’d invited them to visit a number of times, so it was difficult to say no. I hope you can be civil to Silas.”

  Alexa sighed. It appeared she couldn’t get away from reminders of this fracking mess no matter how far she traveled. “No problem. I’m just glad to get a chance to hang out in Umbria with you. I’m a little disillusioned with Uncle Silas, but I’m not going to make a scene or anything like that. And Cynthia is lovely. Does he know I’m here?”

  Norris scrunched his face like he was thinking. “I don’t recall if I mentioned that during our conversation. D
o you think it would make a difference? Have you two had a serious falling out?” Her father’s voice rose in consternation.

  “No, nothing like that. But I don’t think he appreciated me taking an active role against his fracking bill. I was just curious.” Alexa took another bite of pizza, savoring the hint of basil. “We need to bring Graham and Kate and the kids here for Friday pizza night. This might be the best pizza I’ve ever eaten.”

  Driving through an ancient gate in the old city walls, the Williams family said farewell to Florence. “What an amazing city. The David is everything it’s cracked up to be. And seeing Botticelli’s Venus. So sweet,” Alexa babbled in excitement.

  “We just touched the surface. We’ll have to come back on your next trip,” Susan spoke from the back seat of the car.

  Alexa watched La Bella Toscana unwind from her prime spot in front. They drove the back roads of Tuscany through rolling fields of rippling green wheat punctuated by rows of tall, narrow evergreens leading to hilltop farms.

  Alexa chortled to her parents. “I can’t believe it. Look at the cypress trees. Tuscany looks exactly like the photos.” She took a deep breath of the dry air through the open window. “It smells so green and earthy.”

  Her mother smiled when she replied, “This is classic Tuscany, the Crete Sensei. While you’re here, we’ll come back north to Tuscany and see a few hill towns. Montepulciano and Montalcino. Of course, we’d like to you see some of Umbria too. Assisi for sure. Maybe Orvieto.”

  “The Gablers want to visit Siena. Maybe we can do a day trip the week they’re here,” Norris chimed in.

  “Is that where they have the horse races in the palazzo?”

  “In the piazza. A palazzo is a palace. The plaza, or square, is the piazza,” Norris corrected with a grin. “Either way, you’ll miss the races, and so will we. They’re in July, and we’ll be back home by then.”

  As they drove farther south, the fields were thick with crimson poppies. “I expected to see sunflowers.” Alexa remarked.

  “You’re a few weeks early. They bloom from mid-June through sometime in August. We’re almost in Umbria.”

  They passed another hill, carpeted with poppies, glowing vivid red in the early afternoon sun. A gust of wind sent the poppies into an undulating movement. The languid waves of blood red flowers made Alexa think of John, broken and bleeding after the utility truck hit him. Although she hadn’t seen John’s body, she’d had nightmares about the blood.

  Alexa rubbed her forehead. I really need this break.

  Aloud, Alexa told her parents. “Let’s make sure to take a few days to just hang out.”

  “Sure. You can read a book by the pool. Or just sit on the loggia and contemplate the view. Whatever you want to do, dear.” Susan smiled.

  Less than an hour later, Dad turned the little Mercedes into a white gravel lane that cut through acres of vineyards. As they climbed a steep hill, the terrain became wooded and rocky. After traveling across the hill for a few miles, they drove into a mix of open fields and olive orchards.

  “We’re up there.” Norris pointed through the windshield.

  “Amazing,” Alexa breathed when she glimpsed the tan stone farmhouse perched on the hillside. Vines covered one side of the ancient stones. A broad veranda fronted the house, with an expansive view of vineyards below. When they emerged from the car, Alexa soaked in the blazing clear light and the stunning view below. “I can’t wait to see inside.”

  Her parents led her past an outdoor eating area shaded by a vine-covered pergola. A long swimming pool on the hill above overlooked the villa. The house embodied everyone’s idea of a Tuscan house, painted in dreamy shades of ocher with terracotta floors.

  “This is your bedroom.” Susan left Alexa standing in the middle of a second-floor bedroom with soft blue plaster walls. An iron four-poster bed, its headboard adorned with painted cherubs, dominated the room. An exquisite wooden armoire and gilded desk completed the Italian country house look. Alexa pulled a comfortable chair up to the open window and looked out across the valley. Several buildings with towers that looked like castles dotted the vista below.

  She took a deep breath and sighed. “Pure magic.”

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Alexa spent the next week falling in love with Tuscany and Umbria. As her parents had promised, they filled the sunny days with trips to several of the ancient towns that crowned the rolling hills of the region. Their polysyllabic names rolled off her tongue like treasures to be savored. Montepulciano, Montalcino, Cortona, Assisi.

  “Every vacation should be like this,” she said to her parents over a leisurely lunch at an outdoor café. “It’s so much fun to just wander through all these narrow streets. I’ve lost track of how many ancient churches we’ve visited.”

  “Or artisan shops.” Her mother nodded at the bag of hand-thrown ceramic plates at Alexa’s feet.

  Norris took a sip of wine. “I’m looking forward to the wine tasting this afternoon. The Brunello di Montalcino is such a powerful red. We’ll take some home to go with our steak tonight.”

  “I’m usually not that keen on reds,” Alexa declared as she took a spoonful of zuppa di fagioli, the thick Tuscan bean soup.

  “Maybe next week we’ll head toward Orvieto. They specialize in a white down there, Orvieto. Is it Classico, Norris?”

  “Yes. And don’t forget, we want to run up to San Gimignano. They’ve got a well-known white DOC.”

  “DOC?” Alexa asked as she dipped a piece of crusty bread in olive oil.

  “It’s just a term that denotes regional wines of a certain quality. They must meet a set of controls to get the DOC designation.”

  “When did you become such a wine connoisseur, Dad?”

  Susan replied, “When we bought a house in Umbria. Wine is a way of life here. Personally, I’m fine with most of the local wines they serve in the trattorias and cafés. I can’t tell the difference between them and the ones with the fancy labels.”

  “Do we have time to go into the castle before we do the wine tasting?” Alexa asked.

  “Of course. Let’s make the most of this last day on our own. The Gablers arrive tomorrow,” Norris answered.

  “Are you going to drive to Florence to pick them up?”

  Susan smiled. “No. That’s a special service we reserve for daughters only. They’re flying into Rome and taking another flight to Perugia. We’ll drive over to Perugia to collect them.”

  “We’ve arranged to rent a van from one of the locals for the week. It will be too cramped to do day trips in our tiny Mercedes.”

  “Sounds like a good day for me to hang out by the pool with a book.” Alexa looked forward to some downtime.

  The addition of the Gablers to the Umbrian house party was turning out better than Alexa had expected. With her parents’ attention focused on the new arrivals, Alexa had more time to explore the area surrounding Villa Belle Nuvole. Her parents had named the villa “Beautiful Clouds” for the misty clouds that settled in the valley below on most mornings.

  During the first week of her stay, Alexa had discovered a path along the ridge that she liked to walk at dawn. The path ended in an outcrop of rocks where she could watch the morning sun rise and burn off the mist below. As the light warmed the valley, first the turrets of the castles peeked from the pale golden mist. Then the larger buildings emerged until, finally, the full panorama of the valley unfolded. It was a morning scene that hadn’t yet grown old. Alexa doubted that it ever would.

  After a quiet Sunday by the pool, the Gablers had recovered from the flight and were anxious to see the sights. So the whole group piled into the van for a drive to the city of towers, San Gimignano, and Siena. Alexa made an effort to be cordial to Senator Gabler, and he seemed his usual affable self. By the time the group met for a late lunch in Siena’s Piazza del Campo, she had relaxed in his presence. It appeared that Silas was as eager to take a break from Harrisburg issues as Alexa.

  At Wednesday breakfast, S
usan declared the coming evening would be a night to enjoy an al fresco dinner at Villa Belle Nuvole. “We’ve had wonderful dinners in our travels to Siena, and yesterday, near Orvieto. Tonight we hope to top those. We have a local chef coming in to cook us a dinner of Tuscan and Umbrian specialties. This morning, we’re suggesting a short drive down to Lake Trasimeno and a wander through the surrounding villages. We can take a boat or the ferry out to Isola Maggiore if we want.”

  Cynthia Gabler exclaimed, “Isn’t that island known for its lace?”

  “Yes. Norris and I had lunch out there once, too. A lovely little restaurant right on the water.”

  “Sounds like a fine way to spend the day.” Silas nodded.

  “What are they cooking for dinner?” Alexa asked. It seemed as if she’d done nothing but eat since she arrived in Italy. The food was wonderful.

  “I couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to. I’ve left that up to Emilio and Chiara. They like to cook with whatever’s fresh, so it will be a surprise to all of us.”

  “What a spectacular dinner,” Alexa announced to the group seated around the table. They sat outside in the soft night air beneath the pergola. Alexa had dressed in her favorite sundress, blush linen, for the occasion. At least twenty candles flickered in the center of the long table. A string of lights woven through the ceiling of the pergola provided additional illumination. Below, in the valley, Alexa glimpsed the soft glow of lamplight shining from the window of the castle with the tallest stone tower. She continued, “I loved the truffle pasta thingy.”

  As he cleared the dishes, Emilio said, “Tagliolini tartufo. I apologize that the tartufi were not fresh. We made this pasta during the harvest with dried tartufi. Come back in the fall, signorina, and taste the tartufo bianco.” He kissed the tips of his fingers on his right hand. “Mamma mia, the tartufo bianco, she is the queen of the Italian truffles. There is even a festival at San Giovanni d’Asso.”