No Place Like Rome

by Julie Moffett

  Slash remained silent and the answer hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt stupid for not realizing it earlier.

  “It’s not just the money they’re after.”

  “That’s a distinct possibility.”

  “The encrypted file—the big one. You think whatever they want is in that file. But why didn’t they just take the file, if they had remote access to her computer, and then destroy the original?”

  “Excellent question.” Slash rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s what’s bothering me. It doesn’t make sense. It’s not logical.”

  I smacked myself on the forehead. “Oh, jeez, Slash. Crap, crap, crap. I’m such a doofus. I know exactly why they didn’t take the file. Her computer. Serafina shut her computer down. I had to boot it up. She denied them access. They must not have been able to access the computer remotely to get the file.”

  His eyes flashed in surprise. “Interesting. That definitely implies she was not cooperating with them.”

  My excitement grew. “I bet if we checked the date she obtained that file, it would be shortly before she shut down. But first, she hid it. Strictly amateur. They could have easily found the file if they knew she had it, but maybe they didn’t know. We’ve got to crack it open, Slash.”

  “Si. I believe that what we have going on here is more than just the siphoning of Vatican funds. It’s something else. Something big.”

  I walked over to Slash, put my hand on his shoulder. “If whoever killed Serafina has any contacts inside the police force, they’ll have that file by now.”

  “I know. But we have it, too, cara. That’s what has them running scared. Now the race is on to see who can open it first and discover what’s inside. Apparently, they aren’t getting anywhere and are worried that we are.”

  “Good. Does that mean I’m still on the team?”

  He grabbed a fistful of my T-shirt and yanked me into his chest. “I don’t really like this. I want you to understand that. But from this moment on, you’re with me unless I say otherwise. You must do as I say, stay close to me, and no heroics of any kind. Understood?”

  “Actually, I’m the least heroic person I know.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not agreeing to anything, are you?”

  “Not really.”

  “Ah, cara. What am I to do with you?”

  He slid his hand behind the back of my neck and then lowered his head to kiss me. His lips were soft and tender.

  All rational thought fled from my brain. When he pulled away, I nearly collapsed to the floor. All this kissing was seriously confusing me, not to mention making me hot in places better not discussed. I was pretty sure this kind of kissing, involving a hand behind my neck and focused tenderness on my lips, did not occur between people who were just casual friends. Still, I didn’t know exactly what it meant to Slash. I needed my best friend and social director, Basia, to help me figure it all out, but she was a continent away and I was about to go on the lam alone with Slash. I couldn’t see how that would clarify matters any.

  Still, if I looked at the bright side, I remained on the team. Unfortunately, I had a heck of a lot to be worried about. Only the part that scared me the most didn’t involve computers, encrypted files and poison umbrellas. Just elegant hacker hands and one heck of a good kiss.

  Chapter Six

  Slash took a few minutes to pack his personal items. Tito returned just as we were heading out.

  He held up a clear plastic bag and inside was a small dart. I shivered looking at it, knowing it had been aimed at me and wondering what was in it.

  Slash took the bag and tucked it into a side pocket on his black duffel. “Good work, Tito.”

  Tito nodded. “I’m going to see if I can take a few days off. Meet you down in Sperlonga. You might be able to use my help.”

  “Be careful, my friend. You may have been identified.”

  Tito put his hand on the door handle. “Will do. See you soon.” He pointed a finger at me. “You be careful of old men.”

  “No kidding. It’s at the top on my list.”

  He left and Slash followed him out to get a bellhop cart to lug our stuff downstairs. We checked out of the hotel and the valet pulled Slash’s sedan around. Slash made me sit safely in the car while he packed everything in the trunk.

  The trip to the police station went smoother than expected, at least for the time being. My nerves were jangling as I showed my passport and explained how, on behalf of X-Corp, I had traced the hack to Serafina’s computer. I volunteered no technical information on how I discovered the hack, next to nothing about my look on her computer, and absolutely zip on the trip to her apartment where I discovered her dead body. I was relieved I didn’t have to lie outright, but it still made me nervous as heck that at some point down the line, I could be charged with what could technically be considered illegal omission. Finding a dead body and then not mentioning it during a police investigation would not be considered a good thing. However, the detective seemed satisfied for the time being with my answers. Thankfully I wasn’t a suspect in any way. They were just seeking information.

  I followed Slash out of the station. “Whew, that wasn’t as bad as I expected. How’d I do?”

  “Excellent.”

  “Well, I’m surprised he didn’t insist on me staying in town.”

  “He did.”

  I stopped. “What? Did you tell him we were leaving?”

  He shrugged. “If he needs to speak with you, cara, he can. He has my number.”

  I suppressed the urge to hyperventilate, trying not to stress over whether I’d make it out of Italy without a lengthy stint in jail. We climbed back in the car and Slash drove through the city at a breathtaking speed, weaving in and out of traffic without a moment’s hesitation or fear. I closed my eyes and tried to think in a positive manner. After all, if I died in a car accident, I wouldn’t have to worry about umbrella darts or jail time.

  I don’t know how long I kept my eyes closed, but when I woke up we were well out of the city and I could see the coast from the window.

  “Jeez, I fell asleep?” I squiggled in my seat and tried to stretch a cramp out of my left calf.

  He slid his hand off the gearshift and over to my knee, patting it. My pulse spiked. Why was I so jumpy around him?

  I shook my head trying to clear it. Maybe I was more tired than I thought. But holy cow, did he have to look so good with his tousled black hair and a sexy five-o’clock shadow that gave him an even more dangerous air than he already had? Not to mention that he’d left his hand where it was on my knee and it was burning a hole through my jeans.

  I gave myself a mental slap, reminding myself to stay on task. “Focus, Carmichael.”

  Slash turned his head. “Did you say something?”

  “No. Yes. Never mind. Where are we?”

  “Minutes from home.”

  I looked back out the window and saw a gorgeous stretch of white beach surrounded by rocky cliffs. A structure of some kind had been built into the rock.

  I sat up in my seat, staring at the sight with an open mouth. “That’s stunning.”

  Slash smiled. “It’s Tiberius’s Villa. Well, what’s left of it, anyway.”

  “Tiberius as in the Roman emperor?”

  “Si. If we have time, I’ll show you his grotto. It’s spectacular and remarkably well preserved.”

  He drove into the charming town and through a few winding side streets. There was a beach view from almost every angle and it was breathtaking.

  Slash opened his window and took a deep breath. I could smell the salt from the ocean. “Tourism is our main attraction here. M
ost people come for the beaches, but the historical sites are a big draw as well.”

  “You’re lucky to have grown up here. It’s beyond beautiful. Does all your family live in Sperlonga?”

  “Not any more. Just Nonna and a handful of my cousins. My mother and stepfather live in Naples. Stefano lives in London and Giorgio is in Florence.”

  “No sisters?”

  “No sisters.”

  After a minute, he pulled into a small driveway in front of a yellow house. The yard was immaculate and well landscaped. We climbed out of the car and he came around to take my hand. Together we went to the front door. Instead of knocking, he simply opened the door and stepped in.

  “Nonna?”

  An elderly lady with silver hair in a bun stepped into sight. She saw Slash and her entire face lit up.

  “Chierichetto!” she called out to him, cupping his cheeks between her hands and kissing both cheeks. He enveloped her in a big bear hug and she squealed with delight. I couldn’t help but smile.

  He pulled away, saying something to her in Italian. She turned her gaze on me, her bright blue eyes seeming to pin me to the spot with laser intensity.

  Swallowing my sudden nervousness, I held out a hand. “Uh, hi.”

  Her lips turned up into a smile and she put her hand in mine. Although small, she squeezed with the strength of a linebacker and I had to swallow my wince.

  She said something else and Slash put his arm around each of us, ushering us further into the house. “She’s going to fix us something to eat. Now, cara, you will taste true Italian cooking.”

  Frankly, I was starving, so I would have eaten anything, including the kitchen sink. But the prospect of having real Italian food made my stomach gurgle so loudly that both Slash and his grandmother looked at me. I grinned and lifted my shoulders in a sheepish shrug.

  Slash pointed me to a kitchen chair. “Sit. I’ll unload the car.”

  I grabbed his arm. There was no way on God’s green earth I was going to be left alone with his grandmother. What if something happened? What if she took a swing at me or I insulted her by accident? It was painfully clear I needed constant supervision when interacting with his acquaintances, especially Italian ones.

  “I’ll help. Really.”

  I knew my voice bordered on desperation. But Slash just smiled. He probably knew what was going through my mind.

  “Okay, cara. Come on.”

  He said something to his grandmother and she kissed him again as if she couldn’t believe he had come to visit. We unloaded the car and piled all our computer equipment in a small sewing room with a long table and a flowered couch. Slash put the sewing machine in a corner of the room and we began to set up on the table. Once we’d finished, we headed back down to the kitchen where Nonna was cooking something that had a delicious aroma.

  I lifted my nose in the air. “Oh, my God. Whatever that is, it smells like heaven.”

  Slash put his hand in the small of my back, ushering me into the kitchen. He parked me at the kitchen table with a glass of Italian red wine while he stood at the counter and helped Nonna cook. I couldn’t help but watch in fascination as he expertly chopped, diced and sliced vegetables with laser precision, all the while sipping wine and carrying on a lively conversation with his grandmother. A couple of times I almost had a heart attack as Nonna said something to him and gestured wildly, a knife still in her hand. Slash didn’t miss a beat or even duck, acting as if it was completely normal. All this hand gesturing and kissing was apparently an intuitive part of being Italian. I was fascinated by it even if I didn’t get it.

  After some time had passed, I began to feel useless just sitting there. Against my better judgment, I offered to help.

  Slash raised a dark eyebrow. Nonna said something and Slash smiled.

  “Nonna wants to know if you have a particular cooking specialty.”

  Sure, I knew what my specialty was—cornflakes. But I had to say something. “Um, corn. And corn derivatives.”

  Slash’s smile widened. Damn, he knew me better than I thought. I had to tread cautiously here.

  He crooked a finger at me. “Come here, cara. You can help me chop.”

  I’m pretty sure I was a danger to myself, Slash, and possibly all of Italian society with a knife, but I put on a brave face. “Okay. I’d better wash up first. Where’s the bathroom?”

  Slash pointed behind me and I headed in that direction. The bathroom was tiny and held not only a sink and a toilet, but a small washing machine as well. No dryer, I guess. A laundry line had been strung across the room and I had to duck beneath underwear, bras and panty hose to get to the toilet.

  I went to the bathroom and was about to wash my hands when I heard something beneath the sink. I bent down and nearly jumped out of my skin as a large gray cat with green eyes peered out at me.

  “Jeez.” I didn’t know when I’d become so jumpy. I guess dead bodies and shooting umbrellas can be unnerving. I pressed my hand against my chest to calm my heart. “Okay. Thank goodness, I didn’t have a heart attack.”

  I knelt down and held out a hand. “Hi, kitty. What’s your name?”

  The cat arched its back and hissed at me. I quickly drew my hand back. “Okay, I get it. I’m the intruder here. Don’t let me keep you from your business.” I waved a hand at the kitty litter box. “Go for it.”

  To my surprise, the cat walked around in a circle and then peed on the floor in front of the toilet. I stared at the puddle on the floor. I’d never had a cat before. Actually I’d never owned any kind of pet before, so I wasn’t sure what to make of this. I washed my hands and then opened the door to the bathroom. The cat streaked out. I returned to the kitchen and saw Slash was missing.

  Nonna pointed upstairs and I nodded.

  “Okay. Um, your cat. She peed on the floor.”

  Nonna shook her head. She didn’t have a clue what I was saying. I tried to demonstrate, but realized it was awkward pretending I was peeing. I tried meowing, but I still wasn’t getting anywhere.

  Thankfully, Slash returned to the kitchen as I was circling around the kitchen acting like a cat and pretending to pee. He stared at me in amazement.

  “I’m trying to tell your grandmother that the cat just peed on the floor in the bathroom.”

  “What?”

  “The cat. She left a puddle on the floor in the bathroom. I didn’t know how I should clean it up.”

  Slashed stared at me for a long moment. “Cara, cats don’t pee on the floor. They aren’t dogs. They have litter boxes.”

  “Tell me about it. You can see why I’m so shocked.”

  Slash said something to his grandmother and she replied angrily.

  “She says Principessa has never peed on the floor in her life.”

  “Principessa?”

  “The cat.”

  “Oh, right. Well, I swear, she did it right in front of me—on the floor by the toilet.”

  Slash said something to Nonna and she took off for the bathroom, screeching.

  I lifted my hands. “I swear I didn’t even touch it.”

  Nonna came back to the kitchen with the large gray cat in her arms. It stared at me with big green eyes, its tail swishing.

  Nonna murmured, while stroking it. “Principessa.”

  “Is the cat okay?”

  “Nonna thinks you might have scared her.”

  “Me? She was hiding under the sink. I freaked out when I saw her. I wasn’t expecting a cat in the bathroom. Oh, jeez. Now she thinks I terrorize cats.”

  Slash put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ll go clean it up.”

  Slash disappeared. Nonna sat with the cat that kept staring at me as if I was the devil incarnate. I swallowed my entire glass of wine in a few gulps.

  Slash returned
a few minutes later. “All clean. Now, cara, I do believe you were about ready to show us your superior skills in the kitchen.”

  After the cat incident, I needed a carafe of wine to persuade me to help. “Um, well, about that.”

  “Didn’t you offer to help?”

  “Yes. But...Nonna isn’t making corn.”

  “Or cornflakes.”

  “Hey, have you been snooping in my cupboards?”

  “Ah, contraire. I’m quite observant. You don’t put them in your cupboard, cara. The box has a permanent spot on your counter.”

  He had me there. “Jeez.”

  He smiled, picked up my wineglass and filled it again. “I’m teasing you. Dinner is already finished. Come on, let’s eat.”

  Nonna set Principessa down and Slash began carrying dishes to the kitchen table. I helped set the forks, knives, and napkins while Nonna put the finishing touches on the food.

  We sat and Nonna brought over a large covered dish. She took off the lid and I forgot all about the cat. “Is that...lasagna?”

  Slash smiled. “No. That’s not lasagna. That’s Nonna’s lasagna.”

  I could not believe the amazing smell that came from the dish. She served up Slash and I large servings, giving herself a piece about one-fourth the size of ours. Before we ate, she said a prayer in Italian. I folded my hands in my lap, but I peeked and saw Slash had closed his eyes and was murmuring the words with her.

  I didn’t waste any time digging in. Slash pulled off a piece of bread from a loaf of thick, crusted bread and handed it to me, while Nonna plied me with a vegetable dish called fenoci in salata. I must have died and gone to food heaven.

  I had two helpings of the lasagna, two pieces of bread, an extra helping of the salad and another glass of wine. It took us an inordinately long time to eat, but I’m certain it would stand as one of the most memorable meals of all time. I was so busy eating I didn’t even have time to talk much. Nonna didn’t speak English, and it made for a darn near perfect dinner situation for me.

  During dinner Slash laughed and smiled. I’d never seen him more relaxed and happy. He was truly in his element and I could see how fond he was of his grandmother. After my third glass of wine, I actually became rather chatty. I must have thanked her a dozen times for such an incredible meal. It was better than any restaurant I’d ever been to and probably would ever visit in my entire life. I don’t think I’d ever been so happily stuffed.