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Authors: Melinda De Ross

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BOOK: Falling for Italy
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Giovanni’s head was pounding with pain, exhaustion and fury. He massaged the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment in an attempt to cling to reason. After taking a calming breath, he addressed the manager.

“How was it possible that a strange man could stroll in here, in broad daylight, trash our room and take our property without anyone so much as questioning him?”

His voice rose, in spite of his trying to control it. Sonia sat next to him looking tired and shaken, holding her forehead in her hand. For her benefit, everyone spoke English, at Giovanni’s request.

“I’m terribly sorry,
signore
Coriola. I have no excuse. The staff members are being questioned and those responsible of carelessness will be sanctioned drastically, I promise you.”

Signore
Corrado, the hotel manager, had moved them into another suite, cancelling all their expenses. Not that it was any consolation after they had been robbed. It wasn’t the taking of the things themselves, Giovanni thought, but the sense of violation of their property, their security, their intimacy. The thought of some stranger pawing through their belongings drove him mad.

What if he’d left Sonia at the hotel, instead of taking her with him? She would have been defenseless, at the mercy of an individual who was probably armed and dangerous.

He plowed a hand through his hair, closing his eyes tightly and clasping her hand. He had to buy her a gun, and fast. Italy wasn’t all pretty buildings and fashionable facades. It was dangerous and she was out of her element.

He refocused his attention on what the
commissario
was saying.

“We found no sign of forced entry. The burglar either had a keycard or a good clone. Our crime scene investigators have processed the location. The only things that come close to being evidence are the fingerprints they have gathered from all over the place.”

He looked at his polished shoes.

“There are dozens of them. We will try to match those of the staff and exclude the people who had alibis for that timeframe. I am afraid that will take days, not to mention the other ones that cannot be identified, of other guests.”

“What you are trying to say,
Commissario,
is that there’s a very thin chance you will catch this man and recover our property.”

“No,
signore
Coriola. I assure you we will do our best to capture this individual. I have here the description of the missing items—a gold bracelet, two gold chains, a watch and a laptop. Is this correct?”

He proceeded to re-read the description of the things that had been stolen. Giovanni and Sonia had been allowed to enter the room and check what was missing, after the
commissario
’s team had gathered all the evidence.

“Thank God I forgot to get your mother’s broche out of my bag yesterday. Otherwise he would have taken that too. And my amulet,” Sonia said, folding her hand over her handbag.

“We will try to trace the jewelry and your laptop. Sooner or later, burglars sell the stolen goods on the black market, so we have a good chance there. Will you go and see the images now, please?” Alberto asked, already heading to the door of their new suite.

They went downstairs to the security quarters, where they were ushered into a room full of monitors and security equipment. As they approached, one of the men pointed out to a monitor, whose image was frozen.

“This is the man,” the security guy told them.

“Do either of you recognize or have seen this man before? Take a close look,” Alberto prompted, coming up behind them.

Giovanni stared hard at the image of the man who was suspected to have robbed them. Average build, average looks. He couldn’t see his face clearly, just a glimpse of a short beard, dark hair. He was dressed as one of the bellmen. In fact…

“That looks like Lorenzo!” he exclaimed, turning to Alberto.

“Yes, he resembles Lorenzo DiMarco, but it is not him. We already checked that. At 2:10 Lorenzo went to the parking lot to escort a couple that were just leaving and to carry their luggage. They have confirmed that through telephone, when we contacted them. Shortly after that, the receptionist saw a man, whom she presumed was Lorenzo, crossing the lobby and heading to the elevators. This man.” Alberto nodded to the screen. “She only glanced at him from the corner of her eye, and saw what she expected to see. The real Lorenzo was still in the parking lot during all this time, talking on the phone with his wife. Then he stopped at the entry to chat a bit with the parking valet. At that time, the receptionists were just changing shifts, so no one took any notice of this discrepancy. Not until you reported the robbery.”

Sonia, who was standing close to Giovanni, absently toying with her pendant, glanced up suddenly.


Commissario
, has any other suite been disturbed?”

“No,
signorina.

“Could that mean that we—Sonia or I—have been specifically targeted?” Giovanni asked, a bit incredulous.

Alberto hesitated.

“At this time, we cannot be sure. But it is a possibility. Do you have any enemies in Rome? Or perhaps someone who is aware of your wealth?”

“Unless you refer to business competitors as enemies, I have none, as far as I know. As for my wealth—as you call it—my financial status is no secret to anybody. But never has something like this happened to me.”

“How about you,
signorina
Galsworthy?” Alberto addressed Sonia, moving his attention to her.

“I don’t even know anybody here. I only arrived less than a week ago,” she replied puzzled. “I can’t imagine someone who would target us specifically. I think it was just a coincidence.”

“What are you going to do about this,
Commissario
?” Giovanni asked the elderly man. Although he wore a slight resemblance with the anthological Lieutenant Columbo, he didn’t seem half as bright.

“Well, we will try to match his face with any of those that are in our system—offenders and criminals who have records. But, as you can see, his face isn’t visible. At all times, he angled his head in such a way that he wasn’t seen clearly. It’s like he knew exactly where the cameras were.”

“Yeah, a burglar that smart and prepared could have emptied the entire hotel, but he just takes some trinkets from us, trinkets that valued less than five thousand Euros. Don’t you find that weird?” Giovanni mused, talking as much to himself as to Alberto.

“It is, yes,” the man replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “
Signore
Coriola, I understand you plan to leave for home tomorrow, to Firenze. I will need your contact information so I can keep you updated about the investigation.”

Giovanni reached for his wallet and extracted a business card, which he handed to Alberto.

“My home number is there too. Please let me know as soon as you have something, anything.”

“Of course. I don’t want you to worry. I assure you we will do our best to get to the bottom of this. I am sorry for any inconvenience.”

“I’m even sorrier,” Giovanni muttered under his breath, but shook the man’s hand. “Can we gather our things now, and then get some rest? My fiancée and I are exhausted,
Commissario
. This has been an eventful day and not in a good way.”

“Yes, we are done here for now. Have a safe trip,
signore, signorina.
” He inclined his head to each of them in turn. “I will be in touch with you soon.”

After Alberto and his team left, Giovanni took Sonia’s hand and they headed upstairs to their former suite. The room was even more of a mess after the crime team had finished with it.

They gathered their belongings in silence, stuffing them into plastic bags provided by the hotel. They planned to send the clothes to the cleaner as soon as they got home, and then have them sent to a charity center or something similar. Neither of them was going to wear anything that had been touched by the creep who’d snuck into their room and stolen their property.

Giovanni watched Sonia as she bent down to pick up a red silk negligee she’d bought the day before. She’d tried it on for him last night but ended up only wearing it for just a few brief minutes, before he’d slipped it off her body and made love with her.

Now, tired and quiet, she took the tainted fabric between two fingers and dropped it into one of the bags, a deep frown clouding her features.

A smoldering fury burned in his blood. If he found this man, he knew he could easily kill him. The robbery had been a deliberate act. Not the desperate attempt of a poor man trying to feed his starving family—which he could have forgiven. No way was that man an ordinary mugger. His timing, his execution had been too well planned, even though at the end it appeared sloppy and messy. The man was a pro, hired by someone.

The whole thing had been a snubbing by someone who knew him. Of someone who wanted to send him a message.

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

 

The drive back to Florence was as silent and gloomy as the weather. Sonia stared sightlessly through the windows, as the landscape rushed by, putting distance between them and the
Sontuoso—
a place where she didn’t ever want to return. She kept twisting thoughts and hypothesis in her mind, trying to find an explanation for what had happened, but with no avail.

It was unthinkable that someone would deliberately target them and go to all the trouble of organizing a robbery just for a few trinkets or to give them a fright. But it was just as farfetched that the mysterious bearded man had stumbled precisely in their suite and only there, when he could have emptied a lot of other rooms. Sure, he wouldn’t know they would be gone unless he or a partner had followed them.

The thought of that made her more uneasy than any other element of this whole business. To know someone had been watching them was nasty, disconcerting. She wondered if she would ever feel safe again.

She looked across at Giovanni, who drove single-minded and quiet. His features were rigid and his eyes were cold, looking straight ahead, either at the road or toward his own inner ponderings.

“What do you really think about what happened?” she asked him, unable to bear the tense silence any longer.

He glanced at her in surprise, as though he’d been so lost in thought he’d forgotten she was there. He shook his head slowly from side to side in bewilderment.

“I don’t know,
cara
. I just don’t know. The only person with whom I’ve had a confrontation was that son of a bitch, Tony. But that’s not news and we’ve had a lot worse word exchanges ever since my sister met him. I doubt he’d go to all the trouble to pay me back now, when our dealings with each other are over. Besides, I don’t think he has the contacts to pull off a hit like this so fast. And what would be the purpose? Tony is wealthy, he has no need to pay a guy to steal some jewelry.”

“What exactly does he do?” Sonia asked, bending forward to turn down the radio’s volume.

“He manufactures and sells wines, as far as I know.”

“But you said Linda always felt he was involved in other things too,” she reminded him. “That might mean interlope stuff and such.”

“It could, but this was such a silly thing—if we assume the purpose was to teach me a lesson. Not even Tony is that juvenile.”

“Maybe the burglar was looking for something else, and only took the jewelry to make it look like a robbery.”

He shot her an inquisitive look.

“Like what?”

She shrugged vaguely.

“I don’t know. Money, credit cards…information about your business,” she went on, and then a thought struck her. “Your laptop! He took your laptop!”

“That’s a thought that didn’t occur to me,” he mused. “But you don’t have to worry. I don’t keep anything important on my laptop. I access all my work-related info via a secure VPN connection. And after every session, the software automatically deletes any history and opened files. It’s close to impossible for anyone to trace something I’ve accessed. If that’s what he wanted, he’s in for a huge disappointment.”

“Thank God!” She sighed in relief, massaging her brow. “If we keep this up, we’re going to go crazy. Let’s just wait for the police to do their job. See what they find out.”

“I agree,
amore.
I intend to call Alberto in a couple of days or so, if he doesn’t get back to me until then. Meanwhile,” he said, turning to look at her, “we will go buy you a gun.”

Her face lighted and her spirits uplifted.

“Really? I’d love that! But I don’t have papers, I’m not an Italian citizen yet. Is my gun permit valid here?”

“I think so. But don’t worry, we’ll work it all out after the holidays,” he reassured her. “Look at us. Tomorrow is Christmas and we’re looking at this gorgeous time of year as if it’s just a hitch in our schedule.”

“You’re right,” she consented, gazing at the snow blanketed on the fields stretching beyond both sides of the road. “Let’s just enjoy the holidays. After all, it’s our first Christmas together,” she added, leaning on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and she nestled closer, feeling safe and comforted. As long as they were together, nothing bad was going to happen.

 

She was thrilled to get home, to be welcomed by bright lights and the smell of cinnamon cookies. Lucia had decorated the foyer and living room with Christmas symbols and candles. A huge Christmas tree awaited next to the window, accentuating the festive atmosphere.

“We left it for you and
signorina
Sonia to decorate,” Paolo told them, his face warmed by a smile.

“Thank you, Paolo, Lucia. Everything looks splendid,” Sonia exclaimed delighted, gazing around. “Where is—”

She didn’t have time to finish the sentence because Guccio charged down the steps, half-running, half-slipping, and clumsily threw himself in her arms. He licked her face and hands madly, nearly knocking her down as she bent to hug him.

“Here’s my boy, my beautiful boy! I’ve missed you so much,” she cooed, stroking his clean brown fur, as he waved his tail like a helicopter propeller, propping his front paws all over her.

Giovanni bent to scratch his head briefly, then signaled Paolo to go outside with him—no doubt to hand him the things in the trunk and ask him to discard them as he deemed fit.

She rested her cheek against the dog’s nape, letting out her breath in a gust.

“Is there something wrong,
signorina
?” Lucia asked worriedly as she wiped her hands on her apron.

“Oh, Lucia… We’ve been robbed.”

The housekeeper covered her mouth with her hands in shock, exclaiming in Italian, “
Dio mio
! How did this happen? When?”

“Last night. Someone broke into our suite at the hotel. A man stole some of our jewelry and Giovanni’s laptop. They caught him on the cameras, but they think he was probably wearing a disguise.”

Lucia shook her head sadly, her eyes full of kindness, and lines of concern wrinkled her forehead.

“This is so awful,
signorina!
Crime is everywhere, but it never seems so real until something bad happens to someone we know. Were the things so very expensive? What is the
polizia
doing about this?”

“No, not really expensive,” Sonia replied and stood, walking to the kitchen, followed by the older woman. “It’s not about the money, it’s just the fact that our intimacy, our privacy was violated. It gives me the creeps. The police are investigating, but the
commissario
admitted there is quite a thin chance to catch and identify the man. Would you make me a cup of very hot cocoa, please?”

“Yes, of course. Sit down. Where is
signore
Giovanni? Would he want some?”

“Yes, make a cup for him too. I suppose he asked Paolo to get rid of the rest of our things. We cannot keep them after knowing that some man pawed through them. The room was a mess when we found it.”

The other woman nodded sympathetically as she went about her business of preparing two mugs of cocoa and placing some cookies on a plate.

“I understand. How could they have passed the security at that fancy hotel? Criminals are getting cleverer each day,” she continued gloomily, shaking her head again in a discouraged gesture. “We will live to see the day people will be afraid to walk on a street.”

Sonia agreed silently, folding her hands around the hot mug when Lucia placed it in front of her. Just then, Giovanni entered. He took off his jacket and placed it on a chair, then sat next to Sonia.


Grazzie
, Lucia,” he told the housekeeper when she served him his cocoa and cookies. “Paolo will be here in a moment. I had him carry the bags to your car. I know you can give them to a church or something. I assume Sonia told you what happened.”

“Yes,
signore
, it is awful! I hope the
polizia
will catch this man and let him rot in prison!”

“That makes three of us. Join us, please.” He gestured to the cocoa, inviting her to sit.


Grazzie
, but we have to get going if you don’t need anything else. There is a lot of food in the fridge and I bought fresh groceries this morning,” she informed him, untying her apron.

“Then go home and rest. Oh, Paolo, I was just telling your lovely wife that you can go now,” he said when Paolo entered the kitchen, remaining on the threshold. “We have a little Christmas gift for you two,” he added and got to his feet, digging into his pocket, from which he extracted an envelope and handed it to Paolo.

Sonia knew it contained a generous sum of money. Paolo blushed to the roots of his hair, protesting in Italian, but Giovanni stuck the white envelope into the other man’s shirt pocket.

“Please, do not refuse us. You don’t want to offend my fiancée, do you?” he told the couple in a firm voice, and Lucia thanked him graciously.

“You’re welcome. Have a great Christmas, and don’t come back to work until we call you. Enjoy the holidays and rest.
Buon Natale
!” he wished them, smiling, and shook Paolo’s hand before kissing Lucia’s.

“Buon Natale, signore, signorina
Sonia,” they murmured in unison, flustered and pleased. “Welcome back home.”

As they turned to go, Sonia remembered something and shot out of her chair.

“Lucia, wait!”

When everyone turned to look at her, she winced and asked, “Um…I wanted to ask you to look carefully through the things in those bags we brought. I’m not sure it would be a good idea to take skimpy negligees to church, for charity purposes,” she continued grimacing, making Giovanni laugh out loud and nearly spill his cocoa. Judging by his expression, Paolo hadn’t gotten the gist of what she’d said, but Lucia flushed, fighting to hide a smile.

“Thank God you told me,
signorina
! Otherwise we would have been expelled from the church community and put on the list for exorcising. I will take care of it, don’t worry.”

Sonia pressed her lips inwardly, then gave up and burst out laughing.

“Thanks a lot, Lucia. I owe you. Merry Christmas to you both!”

After the old couple took their leave, Sonia placed her empty mug in the sink. She opened the fridge door, which made Guccio whimper with hope and excitement, while Giovanni gave him a pat on his hairy butt. She treated the dog with two slices of ham, and then studied the offerings.

“Looks like Lucia cooked for a small army,” she said to Giovanni, who was just stretching his arms high above his head, crackling his fingers noisily. “Some kind of soup, rice and chicken, sandwiches, fresh salad ingredients and even a pie; strawberry, I think.”

She closed the door and glided toward him, sliding onto his lap, wrapping her hands around his neck. He cupped her hips in his hands, and then gently rubbed her back.

“What do you say we go take a really, really hot bath?” she began, kissing his neck softly, and went on with her suggestions, whispering in his ear her plans for the night, as her  breath made his skin ripple into goose bumps.

He lifted his mouth to hers, pulling her closer, and his tongue slid over hers in seductive invitation.

“I say that’s a wonderful idea,
cara
,” he replied, cupping her breasts through her sweater. “But first we have to eat something. We’re going to need a lot of energy to do all that’s on your agenda. How about that soup?”

She pouted just for a quick second, but since her stomach was growling as well, she got up and proceeded to set the table.

The soup was delicious and so was the chicken with rice. Sonia was too full to be able to sample the pie, but Giovanni asked for a slice.

“My, my, you do have the appetite of a working man,” she remarked. “Do you mind if I let you finish alone and go upstairs? I need to change.”

“Go right ahead,
cara.
I’ll be over in a minute,” he said between bites and patted her butt affectionately as she headed to the door, a lazy Guccio dragging along after her.

She climbed the steps as though they were a miniature Everest. When she got into the freshly aired bedroom, she plopped face down on the bed, noting vaguely that Lucia had put on fresh sheets. Guccio climbed over her, playfully pushing his face into hers, but she planted her palm over his nose and shoved gently.

“Not now, pal, I’m beat. Go play with your ball or something,” she told the dog, her drowsy voice muffled into the pillow.

She must have dozed off for a few minutes, because the next thing she was aware of was Giovanni taking off her boots and socks. She tried to lift her head and flip over, but he held her in place, whispering, “Don’t move, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

He reached under her to unfasten her slacks and the feel of his hands moving over that particular area started to make the wheels of her brain creak back into motion.

“I don’t seem to be so sleepy anymore,” she murmured, rubbing against his hand, lifting her hips so he could slide her pants and panties down her legs.

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