“Where are you going?” I asked.
“That’s on a need-to-know basis, dear.” She stood. “Enjoy your dinner.” Angelica slung her handbag over her shoulder and left.
Imani spoke over my head to Will. “I wonder if we should be paying you out the bet.”
“There’s only one way to find out. We should follow her, but I don’t want to. We’ve come here for a holiday, and she knows that. I don’t want to leave in the middle of a meal to maybe win two hundred pounds.” He grabbed my hand. “As much as I hated that mouthful of anchovy, I came here to enjoy my fiancée’s company. We’ve been through a ridiculous amount of pain to finally be able to enjoy ourselves. I’m not missing a minute.”
“Well said.” Sarah smiled from her spot at the end of the table. “We’ll just ask her about it later. She did say she’d be back for a nightcap. Besides, Lav and I have to go to work tomorrow morning. Apparently the forecast has changed, and it’s supposed to be good weather.”
I frowned. “Bummer.”
Lavender nodded. “And I was looking forward to shopping. We’re hoping to be back late tomorrow afternoon. Anyone care to come with?”
I looked at Will. He shook his head. “No thanks. I hate shopping.”
I turned to Imani. “I hate shopping, too, love. I’m sure I have some reading I want to catch up on. I don’t get much time to do that when I’m on call.”
I shrugged. “I’ll come. It’ll be fun to hang out with you two for a couple of hours.”
With that decided, we chatted about random stuff and finished our meal. When we returned to the hotel, Beren and Liv went upstairs, and the rest of us retired to the quaint bar area. It was a dimly lit room, which contained a grand piano, small bar, and clusters of couches with coffee tables. An ostentatious chandelier hung in the middle of the room. Based on what the small Venetian-glass things cost, that must have been worth in the five figures.
There was only one other couple in the bar area and a young man sitting by himself. It wasn’t easy in the low light, but I recognised that he was the porter who magicked our bags to our rooms when we arrived. He sat slumped on a couch, a drink in one hand and a scowl on his face. Every now and then, his glare flicked to the bartender. Interesting. Looked like someone had a bad day. Had these colleagues had an argument? I shook my head. Stop worrying about other people and relax.
We found Angelica sitting on a couch against the far wall, a glass of what looked like white wine in her hand. As Will, Imani, and I sat on one lounge, Sarah and Lavender sat on another, and my mum plonked next to Angelica. “What does everyone want to drink?” asked Will. We gave him our orders, and he went to the bar.
I leaned forward and looked at Angelica. “What’s the latest on the crime?” At least it wasn’t too loud in here, some jazz music playing softly in the background. So much easier to be heard than the restaurant.
Angelica made a bubble of silence. “Do you really want to know? I thought you were on holiday?”
I couldn’t help asking because I hated not knowing stuff, not to mention, we had a bet riding on it. “I am, but I’m curious. Besides, you took us to that glass-blowing factory for a reason, and I’m sure it was only because it was related to the crime. I’m pretty sure you’re on holiday too.”
“She has you there.” Mum chuckled. It was nice to have someone backing me up against Angelica. My mum was definitely brave.
“Hmm, yes, well.” Angelica glanced towards the bar. “Let’s wait for Will to come back before we start.” Thankfully, he wasn’t long, returning with a large tray of drinks. Once they were distributed, he sat, and Angelica resumed. “We traced one of the magic signatures to a criminal, the glass-blowing artisan from today, Lorenzo. He’s been clean for a few years, as in the police haven’t caught him doing anything. Anyway, he had an alibi that checked out, but the call I got earlier was Matteo from the Italian PIB. They’ve found a motive. The Dal Lago family—the owners of this lovely hotel—owe Lorenzo’s company over two hundred thousand euros. He’s been trying to get his money for the past six months, but they won’t pay.”
I gazed around the uncrowded room. “What do the rest of the hotel’s finances look like? It doesn’t seem to be overrun with tourists, and it’s the busy time of year.”
Lavender sipped his cocktail, then placed it back on the table. “Yes, but if you’re only catering to witches, you’ve probably reduced your potential clientele to one in ten or less. We don’t exactly make up a lot of the population.”
“That sparrow I found, the one Beren bought, did you send it for testing?”
“Yes, dear. It’s as you thought—a real sparrow turned to glass, the same as our victim, Antonio Dal Lago. The glass-blower is obviously our strongest lead right now, but the fact that his alibi checks out—he was at his niece’s birthday party—leaves us without a clear-cut case.”
“But why was his magic signature on the victim?” my mother asked.
“Lorenzo says it’s because he made him promise under oath to repay the loan in thirty days. Lorenzo cast the oath spell. He showed us video footage of Antonio coming to the office at the factory the day before the transformation happened.” Angelica finished off the wine in her glass.
Will leaned forward and sat on the edge of the couch. “What about that woman he was arguing with that afternoon? How is she related to him?”
“That’s
