“Hurry.” She grabbed Giulia’s arm and pulled her into the kitchen, arriving there on his heels. “Give that back right now. You’re not trustworthy.”
“You hurt my feelings.” His con man’s eyes were as innocent as an altar boy’s. “And just when I was getting ready to suggest cooking up a little dinner for the four of us tonight. Nothing elaborate. We could start with some sauteed porcini on top of toasted crostini. Then maybe spaghetti al porcino-a light sauce, very simple. I’ll saute the mushrooms in olive oil and garlic, add some fresh parsley. We could grill the larger ones and use them on an arugula salad. Of course, if I’m being presumptuous…”
“Yes!” Giulia hopped like a child. “Vittorio will be home tonight. I know it is our turn to invite you, but you are a better cook, and I accept for both of us.”
“We’ll see you at eight.” The porcini disappeared into the cupboard.
Satisfied, Giulia slipped back out to the garden to greet some of her friends. Ren glanced at his watch, lifted an imperious eyebrow, and jerked a very arrogant thumb toward the ceiling. “You. Upstairs. Now. And make it fast.”
He wasn’t the only one who knew how to have fun. She yawned. “I don’t think so.”
“Apparently I’m going to have to get rough.”
“I knew this was going to be a good day.”
With a laugh, he dragged her into the living room, pressed her to the wall, and gave her a kiss that made her dizzy. Much too soon, Giulia called out to them from the kitchen, and they were forced to break away.
While they worked, the townspeople spoke with heart-wringing emotion and dramatic gestures about how relieved they would be when old Paolo’s secret money stash was found and they no longer had to live in mortal fear. Isabel wondered if an entire town could win an Academy Award.
Tracy waddled down with Marta and Connor. Harry appeared half an hour later with the older children. He looked frazzled and depressed, and Isabel was surprised to see Ren walk over and speak with him.
Steffie stayed at her father’s side except when she scampered away to talk to Ren. He seemed to enjoy her company, a surprise after all the complaining he’d done about having the children around. Maybe the incident yesterday had changed his outlook. He even crouched down to talk with Brittany, despite the fact that she’d taken off her T-shirt.
When Jeremy saw his sisters getting so much attention, he began to misbehave, something his parents seemed too dispirited to notice. Ren complimented him on his muscles, then set him to work carrying stone.
Isabel decided she preferred food service to manual labor, so she helped make sandwiches and keep the water pitchers filled. Marta chided her in Italian, although not unkindly, for slicing the panforte too thinly. One by one, the people who’d caused her trouble managed to find their way to her side to make amends. Giancarlo apologized for the ghost incident, and Bernardo, off duty for the morning, took her to meet his wife, a sad-eyed woman named Fabiola.
Around one o’clock a handsome Italian with thick, curly hair appeared. Giulia brought him to meet Isabel. “This is Vittorio’s brother, Andrea. He is our very excellent local doctor. He closed his office for the afternoon to help in the search.”
“
Andrea had a small scar on his cheek and a rogue’s practiced eye. As they chatted, she grew aware of Ren watching from the wall, and she tried to convince herself he was being possessive. Unlikely, but a nice fantasy.
Tracy wandered over. Isabel introduced her to Andrea, and she asked him to recommend a local obstetrician.
“I deliver the babies of Casalleone.”
“How fortunate for their mothers.” Tracy’s reply was flirtatious, but only, Isabel suspected, because Harry was near enough to overhear.
By midafternoon the wall had been taken apart stone by stone, and the festive mood had disappeared. They’d found nothing more exciting than a few dead mice and some shards of broken pottery. Giulia stood alone at the top of the scarred hillside, head down. Bernardo looked as though he were comforting his sad-eyed wife. A woman named Tereza, who seemed to be another of Anna’s relatives, linked arms with her mother. Andrea Chiara went off to speak with one of the younger men, who was smoking and kicking the dirt with his boot.
Just then Vittorio arrived. He took in the mood of the group and immediately headed to Giulia’s side. Isabel watched as he steered her into the shadows of the pergola, where he pulled her close.
Ren joined Isabel by one of the gravel paths. “I feel like I’m at a funeral.”
“There’s something more at stake here than a missing artifact.”
“I sure would like to know what.”
Giulia drew away from Vittorio and approached them, looking teary. “You will excuse us from dinner tonight, yes? I am not feeling so good. This will leave more porcini for you to eat.”
Isabel remembered Giulia’s earlier excitement about the meal. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“Can you make a miracle?”
“No, but I can pray for one.”
Giulia gave a wan smile. “Then you must pray very hard.”
“It might be easier if she knew what she was praying for,” Ren said.
Vittorio had remained by the pergola, and Giulia turned her head just enough to give him an imploring look. He shook his head. Isabel saw resentment cloud Giulia’s features and decided it was time to step up the pressure. “We can’t help if you won’t be truthful with us.”
Giulia rubbed one hand with the other. “I do not think you could help anyway.”
“Are you in some kind of trouble?”
Her arms flew. “Do you see a child in my arms? Yes, I am in trouble.”
Vittorio heard her, and he shot forward. “That’s enough, Giulia.”
Ren seemed to read Isabel’s mind, which at that moment was telling her they needed to divide and conquer. As Isabel slipped an arm around Giulia’s shoulders, he stepped into the path to cut Vittorio off. “Why don’t we talk?”
Isabel quickly steered Giulia around the side of the house to her car. “Let’s go for a ride.”
Giulia got into the Panda without protest. Isabel backed out and headed for the road. She waited a few minutes before she said anything.
“I suspect you have a good reason for not telling us the truth.”
Giulia rubbed her eyes wearily. “How do you know I’m not telling the truth?”
“Because your story sounded too much like one of Ren’s movie scripts. Besides, I don’t think stolen money would make you so sad.”
“You are a very smart woman.” She combed her fingers through her hair, hooking it behind her ear. “No one wants to look foolish.”
“And that’s what you’re afraid of? That the truth will make you look foolish? Or is it just that Vittorio has forbidden you to talk?”
“You think I keep silent because Vittorio has told me to?” She gave a tired laugh. “No. It is not because of him.”
“Then why? It’s obvious you need help. Maybe Ren and I could provide a different perspective.”
“Or maybe not.” She crossed her legs. “You’ve been so kind to me.”
“What are friends for?”
“You have been a better friend to me than I have to you.”
As they passed a small farmhouse where a woman worked in the garden, Isabel felt the weight of Giulia’s internal battle.
“It is not my story to tell,” Giulia finally said. “It is the whole town’s, and they will be angry with me.” She grabbed a tissue from a pack Isabel had left on the seat and blew her nose with an angry bleat. “I don’t care. I am going to tell you. And if you think it is foolish… well, then, I cannot blame you.”
Isabel waited. Giulia’s breasts rose and fell before she gave a sigh of resignation. “We are looking for the
It took a few moments for Isabel to remember the votive statue of the Etruscan boy from the Guarnacci
