A Villa in Sicily: Cannoli and a Casualty Page 3

  She nodded and swallowed, then pushed her plate away. Now, she really was no longer hungry. “Sounds like a plan. I will be ready.”

  *

  As Audrey knelt, hunched down, near the upstairs toilet, trying to fit a cut tile into the space behind it, she groaned. Only fifteen minutes in, and every muscle in her back and legs hurt from the strange contortions she was doing to fit the pieces of tile into the right places.

  “I am dying,” she muttered to no one in particular, straightening and massaging her lower back. As she did, she noticed Nick perched on the sink console, peering at her curiously. “You don’t do tile, do you? You’re smaller than me. If you could just fit under there with a little grout on your paws, you could really help me out . . .”

  He hissed and scampered off.

  “Yep. Thanks for your help, Bub.”

  She grabbed her bottle of water and took a swig, then sat on the toilet seat, looking around. She was going to paint the room the color of old parchment, and had little rose-speckled curtains for the single window over the clawfoot bathtub. It would look great once it was finished.

  When this room was done, she’d be nearly at the home stretch. All she’d have was her bedroom. She’d had such fun picking out the mauve paint for that room, and choosing the right hardwood for the floor. But that shouldn’t take more than another month. Then she’d be done.

  Sadness unexpectedly crept in.

  And then what? What happened afterwards?

  As hard as it was, it was also kind of depressing to know that her home would be done. Sure, she could give the outside a coat of paint, work in the garden, but . . . as frustrating as all of it had been and as much as she complained about it, when she didn’t have it to deal with . . . she had a feeling she’d miss it.

  And sure, things were exciting now, but that was because she had so much pulling on her. So many things that needed to be done. But once the house was done, once Concetta became a licensed vet, what would come next? What was the next chapter in her life?

  She wasn’t sure.

  I’m just feeling nervous because of what’s about to happen tomorrow, she thought. Ever since Rafael’s visit, she hadn’t been able to think of anything but the trip.

  Audrey bristled at a vision of walking down the aisle with Rafael, followed by a man with a machine gun pointed at her back. What if this was just the start of things, and it was too late? What if they forced her into marrying into the family? An invitation like that, one from on high, is not something you turn down.

  She gagged at the thought. Rafael was perfectly nice and handsome, though a bit frightening, but his family? They were downright petrifying.

  And she was going to spend the whole weekend with them.

  So who knew what came next, after the house was done? Maybe she’d never have a chance to find out. Maybe she’d go to this thing tomorrow and never return.

  This was definitely the stuff of one of those one-hour true crime series.

  “Tonight on Unsolved Mysteries,” she mumbled to herself, doing her best Robert Stack impersonation. “She went into the idyllic town of Corleone, Sicily, for a simple weekend away from her day-to-day drudgery. But then she disappeared without a trace! What happened to American veterinarian Audrey Smart?”

  The thought made her feel ill. Ill enough to fake a sickness and spend the whole weekend in bed, at home.

  But was this home? Even though she’d covered it with her colors, her décor, something about it still felt foreign. Not like hers. Even after all this time, all the work she’d done and all the friends she’d made, she had to admit . . . she still felt a little like an outsider.

  Maybe it was just that the vet center was practically overrun with animals, and she still had bills to pay on it. Or that the house, as well as it was coming along, had been a lot of work and yet still wasn’t perfect. Or that none of the men in her life seemed to be able to say what they meant around her.

  Mason should’ve kissed me.

  She shoved the thought away. If he hasn’t done it in five months, he probably never will.

  Besides, maybe taking the weekend and being with the Piccolos would make her feel like part of a family. She’d never had that before.

  But did she want this particular family to welcome her in? That was the question. The Piccolos were probably a lot like a roach motel—you can get in, but you can’t get out.

  Ever.

  Shivering more at that thought, she wiped the sweat from her brow and stood up, peering at herself in the cracked mirror. She needed a new one. That thing was not only cracked, but she could barely see her reflection anymore in the surface.

  But renovations would have to wait for now. She needed to start packing for tomorrow. Grabbing her phone, she texted Concetta: Wanted to let you know I decided to accept the invitation and I’m going to Corleone for the weekend. Can you fill in?

  Concetta: Of course! But . . . :0

  Audrey: I know, I know! It’ll be fine. I’m sure. I’ll call Linda from the road to see how Grumpy is doing. And if I don’t show up on Monday. . .

  Concetta: Don’t say that! You’ll be fine. Have a great time. I’ll call if I need anything.

  Thank goodness for Concetta. Over the past couple of months, she’d really turned into Audrey’s right hand.

  Standing there with her phone, she wondered if she should let anyone else know.

  Mason, mostly.

  Then she decided against it. He’d only try to convince her what a bad idea it was, and make her feel even more nervous.

  Plus, he hadn’t kissed her . . .

  She found herself dragging her feet as she went to her bedroom and pulled her suitcase out from under her bed, then took the weekend bag out from inside it. Opening it, she tapped her finger against her chin, trying to decide what to wear. What do mafia people wear? What’s the weather going to be like? Where is Corleone, anyway?

  Well, she could answer at least a few of those questions. She picked up her phone and typed in Corleone weather. The first thing that showed up was a small paragraph about the city: Several mafia bosses have come from Corleone. It is also the birthplace of several fictional characters in Mario Puzo’s The Godfather, including the eponymous Vito Corleone.

  Great. Corleone, Sicily: All mafia, all the time.

  But good news: It had a warm and temperate climate with relatively dry weather.

  She filled her bag with her necessities, trying to keep the dread at bay.

  Stop it, Audrey, be happy! You are going on a great adventure! A family reunion! There’ll be food, companionship, dancing, and . . .

  Guns. And drugs. And racketeering, whatever that is. Maybe even a couple of murders.

  She shook that thought away. After all, in the past few months, she’d found herself in plenty of bad situations, and they’d all worked in her favor, eventually.

  She’d just have to find a way to make sure this weekend worked in her favor, too.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The following morning was a bright and sunny one. When Audrey pushed open the shutters to the large picture window in her bedroom, she took in deep breaths of cool, dewy air, and stared as the sun spread its rays upon Mussomeli Castle and the orange groves below. The weather reports forecast clear skies and eighty-degree temperatures for the entire weekend.

  It’s going to be a beautiful day! she thought to cheer herself, as Nick hopped into her arms, demanding to be stroked. If I can survive it.

  Trying not to think all those thoughts of doom and gloom, especially during such a glorious day, she quickly showered and dressed in capris and a nice sweater, and lugged her weekend bag downstairs. As she was chopping up some snacks to put in Nick’s pet carrier, someone knocked on the door.

  She checked her phone. Eleven, exactly.

  Those mafia people sure were punctual.

  Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. Rafael stood there, in his blazer and white dress shirt open at the throat, showing a gold chain wit
h a cross on it. His hair was wet and slicked back from his face, and he had dark sunglasses on.

  “Ciao, Bella,” he said, a smile spreading on his face. “Are you ready?”

  She nodded and handed him the pet carrier, then reached for her other bag. “Yes, if you just take this, I’ll get my other things, and then we can be on the—”

  “So you are bringing your fox, eh?”

  She nodded. “I can’t go anywhere without him,” she explained, which was not exactly true. He’d been injured, and wound up following her around once she nursed him to health, and though she’d come to depend on the little animal to keep her company, he’d likely be perfectly fine on his own, on the streets, for the next few days. “Is that a problem?”

  She was hoping he’d say yes, that his grandfather was allergic, and that she’d have to stay home. But instead he smiled and put the carrier in the back of his Mercedes convertible. “Of course not. The more, the merrier.”

  As she locked the door, she looked up and down the street. Thankfully, Nessa and her filming pals had cleared out, and the street was empty. When she got to the car door, Rafael swept in, ever the gentleman, and opened it for her, settling her inside. “Thank you.”

  Rafael took the narrow street to the main piazza, then turned left, heading out of the city. Her cinnamon hair blew into her face, so she quickly pulled it into a ponytail. Soon, they were going up and down among the grassy, rolling hills of the countryside, and Audrey’s ears were popping like crazy. Rafael leaned in to say something, but she didn’t hear because of her clogged ears and the rushing wind. “What did you say?” she yelled.

  “I said I’ve been making inquiries into your father!” he yelled back.

  “Oh?” she said, allowing hope to flutter in her stomach. Her father had been her best friend, growing up in Boston. He’d been her greatest champion, and a contractor, too, who’d taught her everything she knew about fixing up an old house. It was his spirit of adventure, and his appetite for fixing old, broken things, wearing off on Audrey, that had probably led her to Sicily in the first place.

  But then Miles Smart had disappeared without a trace, without a single word to Audrey. Audrey was only a young teenager when he walked out of her life forever. Sabrina had been bitter about it, but not Audrey. She’d desperately wanted to talk to him, to find out what had driven him away from her. She’d been trying to find him ever since, with no luck.

  But Rafael had given her hope. He’d said he had connections that spanned the globe, that specialized in finding those who didn’t want to be found. And if the mafia was able to do things that other people technically couldn’t, maybe Rafael and his people could finally succeed where she had failed.

  When she saw the look on his face, though, all her hope drained away. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. So far, nothing. I called on a couple of friends that lived in Montagnanera, but neither of them knew a Miles Smart who lived there. One knew an American who lived in town, but it was not the same person. I also looked into some other possible Miles Smarts, but they were not the same person. It’s possible he changed his name.” Pity clouded his eyes. “I wish I had better news.”

  “It’s all right,” she said. Truthfully, she didn’t know how she’d even react if she ever did meet her father again. Would she feel complete? Would she blubber like a total mess? Or would she be angry? It was probably better this way. “Thank you for trying.”

  “But I have only just begun. I will keep on digging, checking into other resources I have,” he said, patting his leather steering wheel. “So cheer up. I have many more leads I can follow. I am not done.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe you should just stop. If he changed his name . . . Maybe he left because he wants to stay lost.”

  “From you, charming girl? I doubt it,” he said, giving her a brilliant smile. “I am sure he would be proud of you for the woman you have become. A doctor, and a beautiful one at that.”

  She felt herself heating from head to toe. Was he flirting with her? Sometimes she couldn’t tell.

  The image of her in a wedding dress, with the barrel of a gun pointed between her shoulder blades, popped into her head. She forced it out.

  “Thank you. I’m excited to meet the rest of your family,” she said, looking over her shoulder to check on Nick. “Your grandfather will be there?”

  “Oh yes, and they’ll all be excited to meet you.”

  Nick seemed a little agitated, pressing his nose up against the door, but he never did like his carrier. She stuck a finger in and petted his head. “They know that I’m coming?”

  “Of course! You are going to be our guest of honor.”

  She gritted her teeth. She hated that kind of attention. “Guest of honor? Why?”

  “Well, because word gets around about how you saved my family from any embarrassment regarding the murder that happened at my estate. We are all eternally grateful for your assistance in that matter.”

  “That was nothing,” she said with a wave, though it had been quite the adventure. It had involved gunplay, threats, kidnapping . . . basically all the typical mafia stuff she hoped to avoid for the rest of her life. “How many people will be there?”

  “At my grandfather’s estate? Not many. Ninety . . . one hundred people?”

  Her jaw dropped. “You’re kidding. All family?”

  He shrugged. “I have a big family. My father is one of thirteen children.”

  “Oh my god. And surely not all of them know about me?” That whole guest of honor thing had to be an exaggeration. She really hoped it was an exaggeration.

  “They all do! My grandfather can’t wait for you to come, and my father especially wants to meet you. Carmine, his name is. He is the true don, the head of the business, now that my grandfather’s health has been declining.”

  The last time Audrey had seen Don Piccolo, he’d barely looked at her from across the table at this big celebratory dinner they had. He probably couldn’t have even seen her across the table. He was so old, probably about ninety, frail, likely only a shadow of the man he once was.

  She could deal with an old man, even if he was mafia. But Carmine, his son? Audrey had to admit, if he was anything like Rafael, she’d probably be shaking in her shoes. She’d been so intimidated the first time she met Rafael.

  “Well, I can’t wait to see them. But I don’t think I’m going to be able to remember the names of all your family.”

  “That’s all right. I barely remember them myself.” He reached over the console and patted her arm. “You’ll be fine.”

  She had begun to relax a little bit, but the moment he touched her, the butterflies returned. His hand lingered on her forearm a few beats too long. This was it, the confirmation she was looking for. He was flirting.

  Wasn’t he?

  No wonder you’re single, Audrey. If Sabrina was here, she could tell you. Maybe he’s just being a touchy-feely Sicilian.

  Suddenly, she had a terrible thought. What if they put the two of them, together, in a single room? What if they expected her to sleep in a bed with Rafael? Her face blanched at the thought.

  He must’ve sensed her unease, because he pulled away, almost too suddenly. “I should probably tell you a little about some of the people you’ll be meet—” He stopped and took his foot off the gas. “We are almost there! First, a small stop. I’m low on gasoline.”

  They pulled into a small roadside station with a single old-style pump and a car service building with windows so dusted up, one could barely see the APERTO sign propped up in the corner. In America, this would be the kind of place she would’ve driven right past, in favor of a nice, clean Sunoco. She guessed that on this route, out practically in the middle of nowhere, they didn’t have much of a choice. This was actually one of the few busier intersections they’d come across.

  “One moment. Can I get you anything to drink?” he asked her as he hopped out of the car.

  She shook her head and spotted a tiny st
ore on the corner, across the street, framed by a red plank fence and lots of unruly bushes and long grass. It looked like an abandoned place at first, but then Audrey noticed the faded sign in the dirty front picture window, and realized it was a junk store, with lots of dusty wares and rusting items for sale. Nothing of interest.

  But that’s when she saw it, among the old shovels, bird cages, auto parts, broken lawn equipment, and outdated furniture.

  A beautiful antique mirror with a thick, leaden frame, embedded with multicolor glass stones.

  Her jaw dropped. It was like finding a needle among a haystack, that beautiful, antique piece, waiting there, just for her. That would be absolutely perfect in my upstairs bathroom!

  She lifted herself out of the car just as Rafael returned from inside and lifted the gas nozzle from the side of the pump. She said to him, “Do you mind if I go across the street to that store for a few minutes?”

  “Oh, yes, a very nice antiques store. Not at all. Enjoy yourself. Do some shopping! Tell Maria and Flavio I said hello. They’re the owners.”

  “Sure!” She grabbed her purse from the seat. Nick scratched at the door to his carrier, wanting to be let out. She leaned in and pressed her nose to his. “You’d cause too much trouble there, Bub. I’ll be right back. Promise.”

  Hurrying across the empty road, as she came to the small wooden porch, she became even more excited. The glass was intact and a bit cloudy, though not too bad, much better than the broken thing she currently had. This mirror was a nice size, but what was best about the mirror was the iridescent stones inlaid in the thick lead frame. They sparkled in the bright sun, throwing prisms all over the porch. It was simply gorgeous. She could already picture it on the wall upstairs—it would be the showpiece of the bathroom, maybe even the entire house.

  She stepped over an old manual lawn clipper and went past a bullet refrigerator that looked like it had seen better days, looking for the door of the store. She found it buried among knickknacks, from old jars and soup cans to giant carved columns that must’ve been rescued from old buildings.