Westerham Witches and a Venetian Vendetta by Dionne Lister (top rated books of all time TXT) 📕

and stared at us. Beren canned the BOS, and Will spoke. “What are you doing here?”

“Elena called me.”

I raised a brow. “Mrs Dal Lago?”

“Yes.” He folded his arms—so defensive. Was she seeing him too? Sheesh, the plot was thicker than a well-cooked risotto. Mmm, risotto. My stomach gurgled. Must be time to eat. Should we eat out, or should we eat here so we could try and get some more info out of Isabella? She was all for her daughter, but maybe she’d noticed something that didn’t seem like a clue to her but that we could use. Maybe I could frame it as I was trying to clear her daughter? Gah, liar, liar pants on fire. Although, if she was innocent, I did want to prove it. The only way we’d find Angelica was if we figured out who the guilty person was.

“Why?” asked Will.

The glass-blower narrowed his eyes. “None of your business. Excuse me.” He let his arms drop to his sides, and he stomped past us to the restaurant.

I looked at Will. “Can’t you stop him?”

He shook his head. “No. He hasn’t been arrested, even though he’s still a person of interest.” This was doing my head in.

“But wasn’t his alibi found to be BS?”

My mother’s mouth fell open. “Lily! Manners, please.”

I smirked. “What’s wrong with bullishly shoddy?”

She shook her head, and Imani snickered. Imani mouthed, Nice save. I grinned.

Beren made another bubble of silence. “While we’re out here talking rubbish, he’s in there talking to Mrs Dal Lago. Why don’t we see if we can listen in?” Will gave a nod, and Beren dropped the BOS. Will’s magic tickled my scalp, and white noise reached us.

I scrunched my brow. “What’s that?”

The white noise stopped, and Will frowned. “They must have erected a bubble of silence. Damn it.”

I blew an irritated breath out of my nose. “We have to hurry. Whoever did this could vanish at any moment, never to be seen again, and we’ll never find out where Angelica is.”

Movement at the door to the restaurant caught my eye. Isabella was holding onto the bellboy’s arm— Francesco if I remembered correctly—as he tried to attack Lorenzo. Then Elena grabbed Francesco’s other arm and looked apologetically at Lorenzo. Isabella’s raspy voice was louder than a normal conversational tone but not exactly shouting. She was trying to get the young man to see reason, if her facial expression was anything to go by.

Even though the group knew we were there, in the rush of the argument, they must’ve forgotten, but now they realised. Isabella, Elena, and Lorenzo turned to frown at us, but Francesco kept glaring at his foe. What the hell was going on? Was Lorenzo trying to get the money out of them? But if that was the case, why would Elena ask him to come over?

Throbbing materialised in my forehead. Just what I needed: a headache. My stomach grumbled loudly, likely agreeing with me. It was as if my talkative tummy had broken the freeze spell, and Lorenzo’s gaze flicked to me before he looked at Elena. Something passed between them—it wasn’t anger… maybe an apology? Mrs D gave a slow nod, and Lorenzo made a doorway, then left.

Isabella yanked Francesco, freeing him from Elena’s grip. She said something to her daughter and dragged the young man away with her. What the hell was that all about? Was Elena trying to sleep with him too? Elena’s shoulders dropped, and she sighed heavily. In that moment, rather than looking like a put-together, gorgeous Italian lady about town, she looked tired, exhausted, even heartsore. Her gaze met mine. She shook her head, made a doorway, then left.

And after all that drama, we didn’t know much more than when we started, plus Angelica was still missing.

I sighed.

Wow, what an awesome holiday this was turning out to be.

Chapter 8

That evening, we opted for an early dinner so we could get back to investigating. My stomach cheered at the suggestion, even though not knowing where Angelica was dampened my appetite. Investigating on an empty stomach was a terrible idea. I’d only have half my brain on the job; the other half would be consoling my grumbling stomach. We found a small, quiet restaurant not far from the hotel. We could’ve eaten in the hotel, but we all needed a break from the scene of the crime.

After our mains were delivered—the pasta marinara I ordered was the best I’d ever tasted—we got to talking. Will cast a partial bubble of silence—it meant people at nearby tables could hear us, but anyone trying to listen in with magic couldn’t. It would’ve looked totally weird if we were talking and no noise was happening. We checked out the staff and the six other diners in there, confirming they were all non-witches. As a result of this, we kept our voices as low as possible.

Sarah was sitting on one side of me, Will the other. I handed Sarah my phone so she could listen to the recording from earlier. When she was done, she handed it back. “Isabella told her daughter she knows she’s innocent and not to tell the police anything. She also chastised her for sleeping around. Elena told her to mind her own business and that she’ll do as she pleases.”

My mum looked at her from across the table. “So you’re confirming what I thought. Unfortunately, it doesn’t give us much to work with.” Her gaze shifted to me. “If only you’d started recording earlier.” She gave me a sympathetic look. “But don’t worry. It’s better than nothing.”

“I know. I’m a bit slow sometimes, but we are supposed to be on holidays. I’m not as on the ball as usual.”

Will rubbed my back. “It’s okay, Lily. You more than made up for that by taking those photos. At least we have something.”

I stabbed a mussel with my fork. “Yes, but that something isn’t helping us find her. There’s so much we don’t know.” I lifted my head to meet