Return to Umbria by David Wagner (best book series to read .txt) 📕

by clouds. He hadn’t remembered what was around it, but saw that trees ran along both sides, shading and cooling the roof during the day, now offering darkness to anyone wanting concealment. The tall pine trees they had driven through on the way from the road formed a natural colonnade on two sides of the wide gravel lot.

Rick put the phone back to his ear. “We’re here, Gina,” he whispered. “I’m out in front.”

“Thank God.”

“So if you hear someone outside now, it will likely be the policeman searching the grounds. You’re still locked in your room?”

“I haven’t moved since you called back. The lock is so puny, Rick, if he gets in—”

“He won’t get in now, Gina, the place is surrounded by police. So just stay where you are. Is Francine still sleeping?”

“I can hear her snoring. She was probably asleep when her head hit the pillow. I doubt if she even got undressed. Booze does that to her.”

“They should be done checking in a few minutes. Then I’ll come inside and we can talk.”

“Keep talking now, Rick. Don’t hang up, I’m scared.”

He could tell that from her voice. “I will, but I’m afraid my voice will be heard. Let me get farther away from the house.”

Rick thought that an intruder could be hiding among the thick growth of trees that circled the parking area, watching the action, but more likely he was long gone. Gina had become calmer when she knew they were on the way, helped by Rick’s reassuring voice on the line. When they were almost there, he had started to wonder if she had imagined the whole thing. Or worse yet, had called to get attention.

Despite the cowboy boots, he stepped as quietly as he could across the lot toward the shed. The side of it would offer a barrier so that his voice wouldn’t be heard. Like on the portico of the villa itself, ivy hung down from the roof of the little building. It was probably the vines that kept him from noticing it during the day. Perhaps the camouflage was intentional, to keep the high-end villa renters from seeing something that detracted from the beauty of the grounds. The shed was well hidden between the hanging ivy and a row of terra cotta pots sitting on the brick walkway that circled it.

“Rick, are you still there? I think I hear something outside the window.”

He ducked under the branches of a tree next to the shed, the phone pressed to his ear. “Gina, I told you to—”

The terra cotta pot crashed against the side of his head. The phone fell from his hands and clattered on the brick. He fell to one knee and his hand flew instinctively to his head. Dirt, but no blood. At the same time he realized that the darkness was not due to the lack of moonlight. He heard someone running away but couldn’t see him. He couldn’t see anything but a few orange flashes at the corner of his eyes. Were his eyes open? He tried to focus, but his mind wouldn’t cooperate. It slipped back—back to some vaguely distant past—another smash on his head, shouting, and footsteps running. Albuquerque? Yes, that’s it. A bar on Central Avenue. Despite the pain, he smiled, pleased with himself that he had such a good memory. It would take more than a bump on the head to rid him of that.

He passed out and crumpled to the ground.

When his eyes came back into focus he was sitting against one of the posts that held up the portico at the entrance to the villa. Rustic lamps on either side of the doorway lit the scene, and Gina, dressed in a bathrobe, knelt before him holding a cold cloth to his head.

LoGuercio stood behind her. “You were right, Riccardo, I should have let you go with the sergeant.”

“Or you should have issued me a helmet. Did you get him?”

LoGuercio shook his head.

He reached up to touch his head but Gina pushed it away. “It’s going to leave a mark,” she said, as if he didn’t know that already.

Rick shifted to English. “I’d like to be able to say ‘you should see the other guy,’ but I’m afraid I can’t. What a jerk I was to pick that place to talk to you.”

“What are you saying?” LoGuercio said, not liking to be left out.

“She said how brave I was to take on the intruder, and I told her that I had to, because the rest of you had disappeared.” Rick noticed LoGuercio’s frown. “All right, I was noting that my choice of spots to lurk may have been a slight error in judgment.”

“That’s better.” The inspector pointed at one side of the parking area. “We think he ran that way, through those trees past the shed. There’s a road about a hundred meters in that direction and there are some tire tracks next to it that look fresh. The car’s long gone. Now if you had—”

“I know, don’t remind me. And whatever you do, don’t tell my uncle.”

“Have the commissario find out that his nephew is a total scemo? Why would I do that?” He rubbed his eyes. “I need some sleep. Tell the signora that I’m going to leave a policeman here on guard for the rest of the night. And then let’s get back to Orvieto.”

Rick did as asked, said goodnight to Gina, and climbed into the car. They had decided not to wake Francine; Gina would tell her what happened in the morning. As they drove down the driveway Rick leaned back into the headrest and remembered he had some aspirin back at the hotel. He closed his eyes.

“It has something to do with the murder, doesn’t it?”

“Of course, Riccardo. Otherwise it would be too much of a coincidence.”

“He was looking for something.”

“Either that or our murderer only attacks women from Arizona.”

Chapter Ten

Betta was still sleeping soundly when Rick quietly slipped out of the room and walked down the stairs