Antonia paused, spoon hanging mid-air. “Why? Are you going to look for who killed Mr. Monroe?”
“First, I need to see where Mr. Monroe was found and see if I can determine where he died. The last may take some time.” But not too much time, I hope. We have none to spare.
Antonia descended the stairs and Inez followed, intending to wait for Nico in the office. To her surprise, Nico and a laborer in a paint-splattered apron and peaked cap were standing out in front of the store. Nico, dressed in a stylish morning suit, was gesturing at the sign above the door. He spoke in rapid Italian to the painter, who was nodding vigorously and saying intermittently, “Sì, sì, Signore.”
Nico broke off to say, “Ah! Signora Stannert. What do you think? Should our sign be in gold and black, same as on the window? Or should we try for something different? Perhaps blue? Or red? Or silver and gold?”
Inez realized that there was no reversing course now. Nico was bound and determined that “Donato and Stannert” should be emblazoned, varnished, and swinging in the breeze for all to see. Oh, what does it matter? My efforts to stay anonymous are obviously for naught, at this point. “Black and gold are much more elegant if we are trying to attract an upscale clientele.”
“Of course, of course. You are right, as always.” He addressed a few more fluid words to the painter. The man nodded, tugged on his cap deferentially, and said to Inez, “Buon giorno, Signora,” before hurrying away.
“Mr. Donato, may I have a word with you inside?”
“Of course, of course!”
As they walked toward the rear of the store, Inez began, “You have always said that I have complete management of the store in how it is run, correct?”
He looked at her curiously. “But of course. That is our agreement. And you have done marvelously, as I have said.”
“Good. Because I would like to hire Mr. Welles for a short while, just about a week or so. I understand he is short of work right now. Having him stand in for me for part of the day would work to everyone’s advantage and allow me the time I need to take care of some personal business.”
Nico stopped walking, and Inez was forced to halt as well.
The puzzlement on his face was marred by caution and question. “You need an assistant?”
Inez continued in her most persuasive tone. “It would be good for the store as well to have a responsible person available. And you, well, you are so busy with all your appearances and so on. Welles, as a married family man and a pianist, would be a good choice. Perhaps we might even think of employing him permanently, half-time, if it works out as well as I think it will.” She held her breath, waiting to see if he objected or demanded to know more.
Instead, he said in a peculiar tone, “Well. If you feel you must. As I said, you have complete management of the store. I trust you to do what is best. Thomas would be a good choice, as you say. May I ask, does this important business have to do with Signore Gallagher, the gentleman I met yesterday?”
She stared at him, wondering if he knew about Jamie Monroe being Harry’s son.
“I understand you know each other from before. He told me he knew you from Colorado. He was at the Floods last night.”
Inez held her breath. She now recalled suggesting to Harry that he show his son’s photograph to Nico. If Nico mentioned this, or remarked on the resemblance of Robert Gallagher to Jamie Monroe, she would have to reconsider what to say to Nico about the entire situation and what to withhold. But if he did not mention it, neither would she.
The silence stretched between them until he added hastily, “Scusatemi, I do not mean to pry where it is none of my business.”
She realized Nico was asking in a circumlocutory manner whether there might be a more “personal” connection between her and Harry. “No! It is not that at all. It’s just…” Inez hesitated, wondering how much to divulge. She decided to err on the side of caution, even if it meant inventing excuses. “Mrs. Sweet has decided she wants her daughter taught at home. Others have expressed a similar interest in having me provide private lessons in their residences. This development could ultimately bring more business to our store. I thought it would be a reasonable avenue to explore, and since Mr. Welles is currently at loose ends…”
The tightness in Nico’s face smoothed away. “Ah! That is most entrepreneurial of you, Signora Stannert. Certainly. One week, that is not much to ask, and as you say, will help Signore Welles and the store as well. Excellent idea.”
“I am glad you agree that Mr. Welles is a satisfactory substitute for the time being. If I could ask a favor of you.” She ventured to lay a hand on his sleeve. “I have no idea where Mr. Welles lives. Would you see if he is available to start today, or tomorrow at the latest? It would be such a help to me, if you would.”
“Certamente. I will talk with him. I am sure he and I can come to an agreement.”
Inez noted how smoothly he had slipped the responsibility of handling the arrangements out from under her, but decided, in this case, she would let it go. “Thank you, Mr. Donato.” She gave his arm a small squeeze and withdrew her grasp.
“I am always available to help. You need only ask.” He glanced toward the back of the store, somewhat wistfully, she thought, before adding, “I hope your morning brightens from here, Signora.” He bowed and headed toward the exit.
She went into the back and stopped, staring about. Several big, bristling bouquets dotted the area. One sat
