A Villa in Sicily: Capers and a Calamity Read online

  She stiffened as she realized that she had a few of the stolen files in her bag. All it would take would be one search, and she’d be in some big trouble.

  She pulled her purse closer to her side. “Oh? What would that be?”

  “There were no fingerprints on the syringe. Not a single one, not even Mauro’s,” she noted lightly. “But there was a fine powder found, indicating that the killer had likely worn latex gloves. So that’s really going against that suicide theory of yours, don’t you think?”

  Audrey’s heart quickened. “I suppose it is.”

  “And the latex gloves are concerning. Where did they come from?”

  Audrey’s breath caught as she thought of the box of gloves in the back of Vito’s car. But many people used latex gloves. It wasn’t strange, considering the profession. Dr. Mauro probably used them all the time. She opened her mouth to say that, but Lorenzo beat her to it.

  “Interestingly enough, Dr. Mauro was allergic to latex, and didn’t use them at all in his practice,” she said, making all the air leave Audrey’s lungs in a rush. “So the killer must’ve brought them along with her.”

  Her. There could be no mistaking the officer’s intention.

  “Oh?” Audrey asked, nonchalant.

  “Yes. Interesting, don’t you think?” she said, her eyes carefully trained on Audrey.

  She’s trying to get me to give something away, she thought. But Audrey shook her head, trying to keep her reaction as normal as possible. “Not really. Latex allergies are common.”

  “Are they? Are you allergic?”

  “No,” she said. “In fact, I carry a package of latex gloves in my medical case. But a lot of people do. They’re used at Sabina’s shelter. They’re used everywhere. And if the killer brought his own gloves with him, it tells me that it was planned ahead of time.”

  The officer considered this. “Yes, I suppose it does.”

  “Whoever went there, went there with the sole purpose of killing him,” Audrey continued. “And like I said, I went there to talk reason into him. I didn’t bring my medical bag, and I wasn’t wearing gloves. I’m sure you found my prints everywhere. Wouldn’t I have tried to conceal them, if I were the killer? And I certainly wouldn’t have reported the crime if I was guilty of it.”

  She felt triumphant, repeating the words Gallo had said to her.

  But Officer Lorenzo didn’t seem convinced. She just said, “Hmm,” and then started to walk past Audrey, toward Vittoria. She only got a few steps before turning. “Remember, Miss Smart. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Audrey groaned and muttered under her breath, “Doctor.”

  Of course she wasn’t going to go anywhere. The island was small, and now she got the feeling that the Lipari police were keeping a very close eye on her. As Officer Lorenzo quietly questioned Vittoria, she kept looking up, every so often, at Audrey. The other officer, too, seemed to be watching her every move. Were they following her?

  Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten all day. She grabbed her phone, looking for the nearest café to get something to eat, when she noticed a text. It was from Mason:

  Hey, went by your house and your office and the girl there said you were gone for a few days. When you get back, can we talk?

  A little thrill spiked in her, followed by dread. He’d probably tell her how he’d made up with his girlfriend, or some half-hearted excuse for leading her on, and “Sorry it didn’t work out.” The last thing she wanted to do was listen to that. Not that she had to worry about that anytime soon. She was stuck here in Lipari. Actually, compared to that conversation, a prison in Lipari didn’t sound all that bad.

  She started to type a message in return, and stopped. Her mind cycled through a dozen different replies, from “Get lost, loser” to “I’d love to.” In the end, she decided not to respond at all.

  Yes, that was better. Let him dangle a little, just like she’d been doing.

  Pocketing her phone, she turned toward town, clutching her bag for dear life. Why had she let Vito talk her into breaking into the office? Now she had evidence on her person that tied her to the crime. And that wasn’t good.

  But maybe they’d decide she was the killer anyway . . . even without the evidence. Especially if they came up with no other leads.

  She turned back toward the officer who was interviewing Vittoria, but gazing suspiciously at Audrey.

  Definitely not good. Audrey really needed to find answers before they finished their investigation and decided that all signs pointed to her.

  But first, an early dinner. Away from the prying eyes of Officer Lorenzo, she’d figure out who to talk to next.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Audrey decided to stop at that outdoor café on the harbor that she’d noticed when the ferry first arrived on the shores of Lipari. It was on a wooden pier, hanging over the sea, and all the tables had red and green beach umbrellas, tilting different ways to shield against the bright sun. She got a table in the corner, closest to the ocean, and ordered a San Pellegrino and a Calabria panini, with salami, pepper-jack cheese, and pesto. There, the only thing to break her concentration would be the occasional cry of a child down by the seashore, or the squawk of a seagull, overhead.

  She needed to concentrate now. She needed to think about just who she should interview next. It was good that Officer Lorenzo was thinking to interview the town busybody, especially considering Vittelo didn’t like Mauro and had made such a scene at the council meeting. Audrey had to give the Lipari police force props for that. But since Vittoria Vitello was also the eyes and the ears of the town, Audrey got the feeling that they were interviewing Vittelo, not as a suspect, but as a potential witness.

  Sipping her drink while she waited for the food to arrive, she shivered in the shade and the sea breeze. Her bare arms were slightly sunburned from her earlier foray to the beach. And I didn’t even get a chance to chill out and read a book, she thought a little sourly.

  The restaurant was busy, but it seemed to be mostly tourists. She scanned the area, half-expecting one of the Lipari police to be watching. But nobody was paying attention to her. She was in the corner, in a relatively secluded section of the pier, backed up to the ocean, so she carefully reached into her bag, leaving it on the bench beside her, and cracked open the next case file.

  She didn’t accomplish much. Every time someone came by, she quickly slammed the file closed, afraid that someone would see her with the stolen files. Even when the waiter came with her food, she jumped nearly sky high, expecting to see Officer Lorenzo, ready to snap handcuffs on her.

  There has to be something here, she thought, taking a bite of her sandwich. The gooey melted cheese stretched out, clinging to her chin, but she wiped it hastily away. She got so involved in the research that before long, she went to grab her sandwich and realized she’d eaten the whole thing without even stopping to enjoy it. Had it tasted good? She swallowed, but couldn’t remember.

  Oh, but your hips will remember. It’ll probably add another pound to your waistline, at least, Audrey thought as she pushed the plate away and continued to turn the pages.

  She paused as she found something slipped haphazardly into one of the files. It was in Italian, but she quickly translated in her head. It was a third notice, dated only a couple months before, saying that the vet was required to cease operations until he took the proper steps to reinstate his license. So the doctor had been operating under an expired license? And his receptionist, whoever that was, hadn’t attempted to renew it? Perhaps they’d forgotten . . . or had he had it revoked for some reason?

  That was serious business. If he was ever found out, the fines would be enormous, and it could be even worse—he could’ve gone to prison.

  Whatever the reason was, it meant one thing: Dr. Mauro shouldn’t have been practicing veterinary medicine on the island.

  And yet he was. He’d been their only hope.

  At that, Audrey thought about Gallo’s offer. The poor animals of Lipari—and the
people who cared for them—certainly deserved better. Audrey felt sure she could give them that. It wouldn’t take very much. And Gallo definitely seemed willing to make her comfortable here, and support her efforts.

  Not to mention that it would be nice to avoid Mason Legare . . . possibly forever. Take that, Legare! I didn’t need you anyway. She could just imagine the look on his face when he learned she was never coming back, moving on to greener pastures.

  As she was entertaining that thought, smiling a little, she looked up and saw a familiar face beyond the tables, at the host stand.

  It was Sabina. Audrey quickly stuffed the files away and waved to her.

  She spotted Audrey and said something to the host, who handed her a menu. Then she came forward, weaving around the tables, until she reached Audrey. “Ah! I see you’ve already eaten!”

  “Yes, I have. It was very good.” I think.

  The woman struggled to pull her body behind the bench and plopped down, opening the menu. “Their paninis are delicious here,” she said. “I asked Vito to come with me but he say he have too much work to do. I think you created a monster!”

  Audrey frowned. That was a little suspicious. Yes, Vito was a good kid, but Audrey didn’t know many teens who’d turn down food. She had to wonder if he’d gotten rid of Sabina simply so that he could do a little sleuthing of his own. “Is he back at the shelter?”

  She nodded. “He said you’d probably gone out to try to round up more strays?”

  “Oh, yes. He’s right. That’s what I’ve been doing.”

  Sabina laughed. “Haven’t been very successful, eh?”

  “What do you mean?” Audrey shifted uncomfortably on the bench.

  Sabina shrugged and peeked under the table. “Well, if you’re collecting strays, then, where are they?”

  That was what she should have been doing. That was what Gallo was expecting her to do. It was what he was paying her for. But all she’d been doing was meandering about, trying to find out more about this murder. “Oh, I haven’t been having much luck,” she said, throwing up her hands. “They must all be avoiding me!”

  Just as she said that, she watched a mangy cat meander underneath one of the nearby tables, after a scrap of food. Luckily, Sabina didn’t notice. She said, “I suppose you have gotten a reputation among them?” with a little giggle.

  “Yes. And running after cats works up an appetite, so I just stopped for something to eat.” She reached for her purse. “But if you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you here, in the best seat in the place, and get back to it!”

  “Of course!” Sabina said with a smile, glancing down at her menu. “Good luck.”

  Audrey managed a smile as she slid out from behind the table. Catching strays while I’m the main suspect in a murder investigation? I’m going to need it.

  As soon as she paid for her lunch and headed off the pier, Audrey noticed another couple of cats scampering across the road, toward a fenced-in lot with a broken-down building, its windows boarded up. Audrey watched them go inside and gritted her teeth. It was a perfect refuge for stray cats. She’d likely find a slew of them in there.

  Nick met her on the sidewalk, and was already on high-alert, his ears perked up and his nose twitching.

  “What do you say, bub? You think we should check it out?”

  He raced off toward it, narrowly avoiding a couple on a bicycle-built-for-two lazily meandering down the road. He was clearly up for the adventure, disappearing through an invisible hole in the fence faster than her eyes could track him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Nick!” she called as she ran across the street, trying to figure out how he gained entrance. Now, she’d have to do the same thing—but she was nowhere near as small and spry as her pet.

  She inspected the chain-link fence and found an opening in it that would allow her to pass through. She reached into her bag, found her gloves, and slipped them on. Then, taking a deep breath, she hurried across the street toward the old stone house and ducked through the gap in the fence.

  She heard the sound of something inside, even before she reached the window. Somewhere, a cat let out a little shriek. Climbing over the rubble and debris scattered over the front lawn, she stepped up the crumbling front stoop and leaned over, craning to see through a place in the window where one of the wooden boards had been pulled back.

  Blinking, she tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness. Several small forms moved within. The first things she saw were several sets of eyes, unblinking, staring back at her.

  It was a destroyed living room that, funnily enough, didn’t look much different from her own home in Mussomeli, with its tattered wallpaper, broken light fixtures, and pitted floors. The cats seemed to like it just fine, though. She started to count them, but lost count as they scampered away. There were at least a dozen cats calling this living room home.

  Somewhere inside, Nick hissed.

  “Great, making friends all over the place, are we, bub?” she mumbled, squinting to see better.

  Audrey shoved aside the broken board with the heel of her hand, giving herself enough of a space to squeeze through. Climbing up onto the window ledge, she eased herself inside. Somehow, after her escapades earlier that day, slipping into the window of the vet office, this was a breeze. Her feet came down in a puff of dust on the ruined wood flooring. The dust was thick, but full of tiny little cat prints, heading all over the house. She sneezed as she looked around, spotting a young gray, on the decaying mantel of a stone fireplace. Nick was keeping him at bay. He let out a little mewl of concern as he tried to find a way down.

  “Hello, baby,” she said as its green eyes glinted. Looking around, she spied an overturned milk crate and waded through the debris to pick it up. Well, I can’t get in your whole family, but I might be able to catch just one of you. That’s a little bit of progress.

  She grabbed the crate and lifted it up. Out spilled a pile of dirt and what looked like a dead rat. The strong scent of earth and something rotten rose up to meet her.

  The panini in her stomach threatened to come back up her throat. She swallowed it back and took the crate over to the gray cat, who was watching her curiously, all the while licking its paws.

  “All right, honey,” she cooed to it, treading carefully toward it. “I’m not here to hurt you, I’m just going to take you in and get you looked at, all right?”

  The cat simply watched her, unafraid, as she crept up and started to scoop him into her arms.

  “That’s right. No problem,” she said, beginning to lift it off the mantel.

  Suddenly it screeched and flew forward, claws extended. It caught her on the side of the face before jumping onto her shoulder, then gracefully hopping to the ground. She turned to grab ahold of it, but it was too quick. It slipped right through her fingers, and as she lunged for it, she lost her balance and fell to her knees. Choking in the thick layer of dust on the floor, she watched it scamper up the decaying staircase to the second floor.

  Her cheek began to sting. She reached up and touched it, only to find her fingers dark with blood. Fantastic. I’ve gotten about three million scratches on this island since I got here, and I’ve caught about . . . one stray cat. I’d say the cats are winning.

  The sun was just about gone, too, the room growing even darker by the second.

  Whoa. It got dark really fast. What’s going on out there?

  Whatever it was, it was probably not a good idea to be in this abandoned place after dark, considering it was a hazard in the daytime, when she could see the potential dangers. So giving up, she went to the window and pushed aside the broken board. As she did, one of the cats came down the stairs. She knew she was only imagining it, but it seemed triumphant to be getting rid of her.

  “I’ll be back,” she murmured, then turned and eased herself out the way she’d come.

  When her feet hit the ground outside the condemned home, Nick was already outside, waiting for her. She looked up and saw that clouds had begun
to gather, blocking out the sun on the horizon. The white bodies of the seagulls stood out among the multiplying black clouds. The wind was picking up, signaling a coming storm. “Let’s get out of here, Nick,” she murmured to him, “before we get drenched.”

  She shivered as her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out to find a call coming in from the clinic in Mussomeli. She brought it to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Audrey? You didn’t call today,” a voice, sounding rather timid, said. It was Concetta, but she sounded a little perturbed.

  “I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been busy. I was going to call, but it—” It completely slipped my mind. “Is everything okay?”

  “Well, it was,” she said, her voice shaking a little. “Up until about an hour ago. Someone just brought in a stray dog, and I think . . . well, it has all the classic signs of rabies.”

  “Rabies? Are you sure?”

  “No. I don’t know for sure. But it was acting really crazy. At first I thought that it just didn’t want to be restrained. But then it bit me. And after I cleaned up the mess, I noticed it was foaming a little at the mouth.”

  Oh, no. “Okay, Concetta. Listen to me. You know where I keep the pentobarbital, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “The first thing you need to do . . . is put the dog down.”

  She paused. “I know that, but I—”

  “Concetta. You know I’m the last person who’d advocate for ending an animal’s life. But rabies is untreatable. It’s going to die anyway, and painfully, and it might infect other animals while it’s at it. So the most humane thing you can—”

  “Well, that’s the problem. It escaped.”

  Audrey blinked. “It escaped?”

  “Yes. I tried to go after it, but it disappeared. And now that bite . . . it’s getting a little puffy.” Concetta sounded far from the calm, controlled woman whose favorite refrain was, “I’ve got it under control!” Right now, she was clearly a little frantic, her voice far away, trembling. “And well, I haven’t had the rabies vaccine, so I’m a little concerned . . .”