A Villa in Sicily: Capers and a Calamity

by Fiona Grace

  When Audrey walked in, her nostrils flared, accosted with the saline scent of fresh sweat. The few men there scoured her with their eyes like she was a piece of meat. The air seemed charged with steroids and testosterone. This wasn’t the juice-bar-and-elliptical-machine type of gym she knew of from Boston. This was for some seriously scary-looking dudes.

  No wonder Vito had warned her. Some of these guys had thighs the circumference of Vito’s entire torso.

  “Lovely,” she whispered to him, just as a tiny puppy barked, announcing their arrival.

  The second it bounded up to her, Audrey felt a thousand times more at ease. That was the usual effect animals had on her. As she leaned down to pet it, she realized it was a tiny version of the golden retriever she’d seen in Bustante’s files. “Hi there, baby. Who are you?”

  A loud voice boomed from the back of the room, behind the various weightlifting equipment. She grasped a few words from the rapid-fire Italian—the puppy’s name was Picco, the gym was running a special, and would Vito like a membership application? His tone wasn’t solicitous, like he wanted them to join . . . he sounded more doubtful as if he already knew they’d have their work cut out for them.

  When he appeared, Audrey understood why. He looked like Mr. Clean, right down to the gold earring. He was bald, wearing a tank top that showed off his massive muscles and trim waist. The only thing was, he wasn’t smiling.

  Audrey said, “No, we don’t want an app—”

  Vito began to speak over her, translating her thoughts into Italian. No, we wanted to ask you a few questions about your visit to Dr. Mauro.

  Bustante’s eyes narrowed, shifted between the two of them. “Mauro? Che vuoi?” What do you want?

  Audrey said, “Did he meet with Dr. Mauro? Did Dr. Mauro tell him that his dog was sick? Did he—”

  Vito held out a hand and spoke to him. Bustante nodded and spoke some more, gesticulating wildly. “What is he saying?”

  Vito said, “He’s saying that yes, this dog, Picco, is Picco junior, Picco senior died a month ago. He had cancer and was very ill, according to Mauro. One day he was fine, the next day, the doctor said he was too far gone and needed to be put down.”

  Audrey frowned. Euthanasia was something she didn’t take lightly. She always tried to find an alternative method. It was a last resort. And unless the animal was in substantial pain, it was never something that she rushed into. The pet owners were always prepared for it, because it was an important part of the process. “And Picco senior was only four years old. So he didn’t seem sick at all?”

  Vito translated, and Bustante shook his head. Then his eyes narrowed. “Che? Chi sei?” Who are you?

  Audrey completely understood what Vito meant: This man looked like Heads are gonna roll was the motto he lived his life by. A vein bulged on the side of his neck, angry and on the verge of bursting. That couldn’t have be good. If she were looking for guilty parties based on temperament alone, Davide Bustante would be at the top of the list.

  Time to defuse the situation.

  “Signore Bustante,” she said, as sweetly as she could. “Scusi. We didn’t mean to disturb you. I’m a veterinarian. I was just conducting a survey and wanted to see if you were happy with your level of care?”

  Vito translated. The man’s featured softened, but he shook his head. “Dr. Mauro. . . bastardo. Sono felice che sia morto.”

  Audrey’s eyes widened. Vito went to translate, but she held up a hand. She knew what that meant. I’m glad he’s dead. “So he knows?”

  Vito nodded. “Apparently.” Then he asked, in Italian, How did you find out?

  The man snorted and replied something about how there are no secrets in a town this small. All of Lipari knows. Then he narrowed his eyes again and said something that Audrey didn’t understand. She looked at Vito.

  Vito backed away and muttered, “He says if we don’t get out of here and stop snooping, he’s going to call the police.” Then Vito seemed to have second thoughts. He said something about Picco to Davide.

  Davide nodded and his face fell. For a moment, he looked like he might cry. Then he leaned down and picked up his puppy and said something, again, that Audrey could barely make out.

  Vito nodded solemnly. Then he said to Audrey. “I think we should go.”

  “But . . .What did he say?” Audrey whispered.

  “I’ll tell you when we’re outside,” he said, still eyeing him and trying to nudge her toward the door.

  Eventually, she gave in and followed him out into the bright sun. “Well?”

  “He said that he tried to sue Mauro, but the local judge is a friend of Mauro’s and the case was dismissed. So there’s no love lost there.”

  “Aha!” Audrey said, eyeing him through the storefront. He was eyeing her right back, looking absolutely guilty as sin. “Why did you make me leave? I could’ve asked him more—”

  “Because he said he was in Messina yesterday for the whole day. He only got back last night.”

  “He did?” Her spirits plummeted. “He could be lying.”

  Vito shook his head. “I don’t think so. He said he was at a wedding and that there are a hundred people who could vouch for his whereabouts and that he didn’t get home until midnight.”

  She sighed. “Oh.”

  That meant that, for all their crazy, dangerous escapades today, they were at a dead end.

  She walked toward his car, her stomach swirling with a combination of relief and dread. “Come on. Let’s go, Vito. We have some animals to take care of.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Audrey was lying on the beach, wriggling her toes in the warm water, the sun hot on her face. She had a tropical drink in her hand, a buff waiter at her beck and call, and no cares in the world. In the distance, seagulls squawked, and every so often, a cool breeze caressed her face. It was heaven, until . . .

  “Wake up.”

  She squeezed her eyes tighter, trying to ignore the command.

  “Audrey. Wake up.” The voice was more insistent this time.

  She blinked and found herself in Vito’s car, with Nick and Vito both staring at her. Her cheek was pressed against her shoulder at an unnatural angle, and a line of drool dripped from her chin. She swiped at it and looked around. “What—where are we?”

  “The shelter. It’s after one. We have to finish the check-ups on the new cats we brought in yesterday.”

  “Oh, right.” The fantasy popped in her head. As much as she loved the job of caring for animals, she had to admit, she liked that dream a lot better. To be sitting there, with no pressing engagements, no murder investigation going on . . .

  The murder investigation.

  “Ugh.” She rubbed her sore neck, thinking of everything they’d done that day. From breaking and entering, to interviewing Davide Bustante and a number of the other names from the files she’d collected, they’d been all over the island. And they had absolutely nothing to show for it. Her stomach swam with the realization. “That was a waste of time, wasn’t it?”

  Vito shrugged. “It depends on how you look at it. It’s like Edison, finding two thousand ways how not to make a light bulb. We just found four people who couldn’t have killed Dr. Mauro.”

  She laughed bitterly. “I hope we don’t have to do that two thousand times. I can’t take it,” she said, yawning and sitting up in the front passenger’s seat. Sure enough, the shelter stood in front of them. She must’ve fallen asleep after their last visit to the old lady with the dog with kidney disease, because it all felt like a faraway dream. It was amazing that Vito’s crazy driving hadn’t woken her up once.

  She pulled on the door handle and got out, still rubbing her sore neck. That catnap had only served to make her feel more exhausted. As they went around to the front of the building, she noticed Councilman Gallo’s car parked out front.

  Great. Just what I need right now. An interview with the boss. I wonder if he’s going to think I murdered Mauro, too, she thought, smoothing her hai
r back into a ponytail and letting it fall neatly behind her back. She paused in front of the window and inspected her reflection. She had enough bags under her eyes for a trip to Japan. Let’s get this over with.

  She went inside just as Gallo was unleashing a series of robust sneezes. She found him rushing out of the kennel room, eyes watering. “Oh, Dottore Smart!” he said, relieved. “Thank goodness. I need to talk to you.”

  “Would you like to go outside?” she said.

  He sneezed. “Yes. Grazie. That would be best.”

  She told Vito to get started tending to the animals and headed outside with the ailing councilman. When she got there, before he could turn around, she said, “I know why you’re here.”

  He turned, a confused expression on his face. “And why is that?”

  “Dr. Mauro. I’m sure you’ve heard.”

  He nodded, his face full of regret. “Indeed. It’s a shame, what happened to him. Lipari is quiet place. I can’t believe it happened.”

  She swallowed. “That’s why I wanted to let you know. I understand the reservations you must have about working with me and trusting me to care for these animals. But I wanted to reassure you that as long as I can, my focus has been and will always be on the animals first.”

  Confusion darkened his expression. “Reservations?” He started to laugh. “Oh, no, Dottore Smart. Of course, it was a shock, but I have no reservations where you are concerned. None at all.”

  She rocked from her heels to her toes. “You mean, you don’t think that I killed him?”

  He laughed even harder. “Now why would I think such a thing?”

  “Well, first, because the police seem to think it was me. I suppose they think I was jealous and wanted to take his position from him. And since I found the body, I know how to administer the pentobarbital, and they don’t have any other suspects . . .”

  “Ah. Well—” He paused. “You found the body? Why on earth were you—”

  “I had had a bit of a fight with him a few hours before, and I stopped by his clinic to clear the air with him. Not to kill him.”

  He stared at her, a peculiar expression on his face, almost as if he was suddenly deciding the police were right. Maybe she’d said too much. It was better when he thought she could do no wrong. “That’s . . . astonishing.”

  “Yes. But the fact remains . . . I didn’t kill him.”

  “Oh, I know that, dear,” he said, waving it off. “I’ve seen enough mysteries to know that the person who finds the body and calls it in is very rarely the killer. Why stick around and wait to be caught? Right?”

  “Oh.” That made sense. “Yes, I guess you’re right. I never thought about that.”

  “And so you wanted to clear the air with him? You know what a stubborn fool he can be?”

  She nodded. “I realized that if the animal control problem in Lipari was ever going to get better, I needed to reason with him, since he’s all this town has, once I leave.”

  Gallo held up a finger. “Which brings me to my visit to you. The reason I was here, my dear, was because I was hoping that you might consider relocating your clinic to Lipari. Considering we’re now in dire need of a veterinarian.”

  She blinked. She hadn’t been expecting that one. “What?”

  “I know, I know. But we’re up against a wall here. You understand. And we need the help.”

  She understood that, but it still sounded rather crass. Dr. Mauro had been dead less than twenty-four hours, and here they were, already trying to get a replacement? “Oh, yes, but—”

  “You’ll think about it?”

  It would be easy enough to give it all up for the greener grass on the other side. But then she thought of the friends she’d made in Mussomeli. The many pets she’d grown to love over the past few months. Not to mention Concetta, G, the café owner who was so sweet to her, and of course, Mason. She’d left too many things unresolved. Though the speed bumps along the line were many, her work there was far from done. She shook her head. “I would, but I don’t see how I possibly can. Back in Mussomeli—”

  “We received a generous grant to support the animal control effort. That’s where your pay came from. But there’s much more planned. We could arrange a new clinic, state-of-the-art equipment, whatever you need. How about it?”

  “It sounds really amazing, but—” She paused. A lot of her troubles in Mussomeli revolved around never having enough money. Her home was still a mess, the clinic was a work in progress, and she was constantly watching her bank account. Besides, it wasn’t like there was anyone in Mussomeli missing her so badly.

  She cringed as she thought of Mason, prancing off with that gorgeous girl of his. He’d toyed with her for months, making her think he was interested, only to play her for a fool, the jerk. Lipari could be a fresh start. A new beginning . . .

  He cleared his throat, startling her out of her thoughts. “Well, if you can think of another one of your colleagues, please let me know,” he said, shaking his head. “Or maybe you change your mind? Think on it and see.”

  She smiled. “Okay. Maybe.”

  “Maybe is good!” he said.

  I doubt it, she thought. I’ve been here less than a day and already I’m a murder suspect. At least in Mussomeli, I went several days before that happened.

  She almost laughed at her bad luck. Not to mention, it wouldn’t be all roses and sunshine, here either. For one thing, she’d have to deal with an island of people who might not trust her, simply because of the bad reputation of her predecessor. That would be a hard thing to shake, being under the thumb of a euthanasia-happy man. There were probably plenty of residents who refused to see the vet when their pet really needed it, simply because—

  Suddenly, something struck her. “Councilman Gallo, I have a question for you,” she said, plowing forward without waiting for him to respond. “You mentioned that there were other solutions to the stray problem presented to the council, right?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Who else provided those solutions? Did Dr. Mauro have any ideas?”

  He nodded slowly. “He did indeed. None that any of us were very keen on. That was why we decided to look for outside help. We never took his plan very seriously, and, well . . . it angered many of the locals who deemed it inhumane.”

  “What was it?” she asked, though she had a pretty good idea already.

  “Well, he wanted to perform mass euthanasia on the cats. Kill almost all of the ones in the shelters, and poison the ones that were running free.”

  Audrey’s blood ran cold. Even though Gallo said it with a great deal of regret in his voice, she could hardly imagine, as a veterinarian, advocating for anything so cruel. She shuddered. “That’s awful. I’m glad you looked into other avenues.”

  He smiled. “I’m glad, too.”

  But the fact remained that Dr. Mauro had been murdered by the same euthanasia drug that he was planning to use on the stray pet population. He had a number of enemies who saw him as inhumane. Maybe someone out there, some crazed pet lover or a person who really wanted to save all the animals, had decided he deserved a dose of his own medicine?

  If that was the case, only one question remained: Did she know anyone who fit that description?

  As she turned back to the shelter, the answer hit her straight between the eyes.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Audrey’s knees wobbled as she went inside to the kennels.

  As she walked inside, deep in thought, she couldn’t shake the strange feeling that overtook her. Sabina had mentioned something about a cat she had owned that Dr. Mauro had supposedly killed, years ago. Sabina loved animals like her own babies. Sabina had transformed her home into a refuge for stray cats. If anyone on the island of Lipari could be called a stray pet lover, it was Sabina.

  And there was a very good chance that a pet lover had killed Dr. Mauro over his unorthodox animal control tactics.

  That meant that, as much as she didn’t want to believe it
. . .

  Sabina had motive.

  Sabina wasn’t in the kennel area when she arrived. She hesitated in the doorway, watching Vito pour food into bowls for the cats. He was a good kid. Sabina may have been a little crazy, but she was all he had.

  The thought of her being locked away in prison for murder tore at Audrey’s heart. She felt so sick over it that she didn’t notice Vito staring at her curiously. “Everything okay, Audrey?”

  She nodded and swallowed. “Yep. Fine.”

  “’Cause pardon my saying so, but you look like you’re gonna hurl.” He smirked.

  Truthfully, she did feel like she was going to be sick. She swallowed the bile in her throat and shook her head. “Just a little tired.”

  “Okay. Ready to start the exams?”

  “Um.” She ducked her head out and looked up and down the hall. No Sabina. “Can you finish feeding? I just have something to discuss with Sabina. Do you know where she is?”

  “Sure thing,” he said, pouring more cat food into the bowls. “I think she went out back.”

  Audrey slowly meandered down the hallway, not sure how she was going to broach the subject. Did you murder the veterinarian? wasn’t exactly the best way of going about it. But as she walked down the hall, more and more of the pieces seemed to fall into place. As a shelter manager, it was possible Sabina knew how to administer pentobarbital. It was likely there was some on hand in the shelter, too, easily accessible.

  That also meant that Sabina had the means.

  When she reached the back of the clinic, she peered into the break room. No Sabina. She peeked into the storage room, too, but Sabina wasn’t there. At the last door, the utility room, she heard Sabina cooing something in Italian, as if she was speaking to a baby.

  Audrey pushed open the door to find Sabina with a large white-and-gold-striped cat. It was wearing a flowered scarf and a straw hat, and looked rather miserable. “Oh, Audrey! Tell Bella how pretty she looks! I just gave her her bath, and now she’s ready for a night on the town!”

  “You gave her a . . . a bath?” Audrey asked, tilting her head. Though Sabina was holding the poor creature down, Bella managed to get a paw loose and swipe the hat off her head. “Did she get into something? Because with her short coat, she really shouldn’t need—”