Cold Tuscan Stone by David Wagner (best books to read in your 20s txt) 📕

life? The obvious conclusion: murder.” Her smile struck Rick as hardly something that should go along with talk of a death.

“I’ll stay out of the speculation game.”

“Not a game, Riccardo. Especially if you are the murderer.” She noticed his reaction and added, “I meant if one is the murderer. You don’t look like the kind of person who would have done this man in.” For her it was a game, and she was enjoying playing it with him.

“Or done in anyone else, I hope you meant to say.”

She kept the playful expression on her face. “Of course. And more than one person would have been needed to push him over the wall. You probably didn’t have time to recruit any accomplices in town, or did you bring some Roman thugs along with you?”

“Just me on this trip.” He was starting to feel very uncomfortable. Was it the line of conversation or the woman herself? Erica should have warned him, perhaps if she had gone into more detail about her friend, Rick would have treated this meeting differently. Like meet her at a neutral place in town. Did Erica avoid the details on purpose, perhaps as a test for him? Could Donatella be in on it? Hold on, Montoya, it’s true that this is Italy and not Albuquerque, but let’s stick with reality here.

“Ancora un caffe?”

“No, thank you, Donatella, one was just right. And I really should be getting back, I have some messages to send back to the gallery to let them know what I’ve been up to. I don’t want them to think I’m just drinking wine and eating pasta at their expense.”

They rose, and as if on a signal Dario appeared at the doorway. As Rick picked up the folder, he remembered the real reason for the visit.

“Donatella, what you showed me here was very impressive, I hope something will be of interest to our clients in America. May I also mention that some Americans have very specific and—how shall I say?—exceptional tastes. They are always looking for something unique that can be enjoyed purely for its—”

“For its beauty,” she interrupted. Unlike Landi, the woman appeared to get the message immediately. “Something to have in a special place and enjoy in privacy.” She gestured toward the walls of the room with her hand. “Yes, Riccardo, I think I understand. Let me think about it and call you.” She took his arm as she walked him toward the door where Dario was already opening it for them. Rick nodded to him, eliciting an almost imperceptible nod in return, and he and Donatella walked out to the terrace. The sun was starting to drop over the hill west of the villa, taking much of the afternoon’s warmth with it. At the edge of the brick he turned to his hostess and extended his hand. She took it and held up her face to let him kiss her on both cheeks. They had only just met, but after all, she was a friend of Erica.

***

Rick turned on his lights as he passed through the gate of the villa compound, accelerating without noticing the blue car parked just off the dirt road. Rick was soon back on pavement, wondering if his cell phone would work in this corner of Tuscany to call Erica. It did.

“Ciao, Ricky.”

“Ciao, bella. I hope I am not interrupting class or something else important.”

“What would be more important than talking with you, caro? Tell me what you’ve been doing. Here it is the usual dull routine. You are having the fun and all I have to look forward to is a room full of bored students.”

Might as well get it over with.

“I saw your friend Donatella.”

“Aha. And how is la bella Donatella? She did not make any advances on you, I hope.”

“Not that I was aware of.” He crossed two fingers on the hand doing the steering. “She has an impressive collection.”

“Are you referring to her art?”

Rick laughed, hoping it didn’t seem too forced. “I’m beginning to wonder why you suggested I call her. I thought you two were friends.”

“She is a friend. Not close, but a friend. She does have a certain reputation, and from my experience at the university, it is not unwarranted.” She paused. “But Ricky, if you saw her collection, to use your words, you must have visited her villa.”

It was time to come clean about Donatella, but how to do it without getting into too much detail? He had felt guilty keeping it from her—though likely not guilty enough for her liking—yet if he told her too much now, it would not go well with Beppo. While all this was fun, if his translation business didn’t pan out, working undercover was probably not the career he would pursue.

“Erica, Beppo thought that it might be a good idea to make contact with Donatella. Professionally, I mean. Perhaps he thought it would add credibility with the other people I’m seeing.” Stretching the truth?

“Ricky, you don’t think your friend Beppo—”

“Erica,” he interrupted, “here’s the thing. If I’m making contact with dealers, it would seem strange if I didn’t call on her, don’t you think? I doubt very much if Beppo thinks she could be mixed up in this.” OK, now he was stretching the truth, better to change the subject. “Something else has come up, which has nothing to do with my little mission.” He told her about the death of Canopo and his involvement in the case.

“This isn’t another attempt by your uncle to get you involved in police work, is it Ricky?” It was an issue that had come up before in Rome. It could have been his mother talking.

“Of course not,” he said. “It was pure coincidence that I happened to be with the man just before his death. The police are satisfied I had nothing more to do with him. The commissario I am dealing with for my, uh, work here, is the same one investigating the death of the man.” Rick