Left to Vanish (An Adele Sharp Mystery—Book Eight) by Blake Pierce (best adventure books to read txt) 📕

CHAPTER FOUR

Adele whistled softly as the taxipulled up the driveway, through the enormous estate’s open gateway. Ahead, inthe nighttime glow, the mansion cast against the outline of Milan seemed alooming, regal thing. Her eyes darted from the open terrace on the third floor,to the metal mesh of the tennis court next to the natural pond-shaped privatepool. The trees themselves, scattered throughout the estate, looked a hundredyears old.

The trip from the Malpensa Airporthad reminded her of Agent Christopher Leoni again. She’d been tempted to call,but once more had held back. Everyone was in danger when near her. Everyone shefelt a fondness toward was inevitably put in harm’s way. Which, she supposed,was why having Agent Paige along, despite the scalding glances and scornfullooks, was a blessing in disguise.

The taxi driver pulled past thetwo officers guarding the gateway. Adele flashed her credentials through theopen window and said, “DGSI with Interpol,” and the Italian police waved herthrough.

As they trundled slowly up the longdrive toward the giant mansion and its smaller guesthouse, Adele felt a risingsense of anticipation.

 Her stomach twisted and for a momentshe frowned, glancing off out the window and watching the neat rows of smallconifers pass by. She shifted uncomfortably, putting a hand to her stomach andpressing against the odd, nearly painful sensation.

Sophie Paige didn’t even glanceover, preferring to bark directives at their driver. As they neared the oldmansion and the location of the second victim’s home, Adele realized with astart what she was feeling.

Stage fright.

She blinked in surprise. It hadbeen years since she’d faced this particular demon before stepping onto a crimescene. Anxiety, fear, worry all came as part of the job, but this sensation nowhad only been an issue when she’d first started at the DGSI.

But the nearer they got to theroundabout at the end of the drive, the more her stomach twisted and churned.She kept her hand against her abdomen, pressing as if to hold back the risingtide of unease. She could feel her breaths coming in quick patterns andconsciously forced herself to inhale for four seconds, hold it for four, thenexhale for four more.

The vehicle skidded to a halt, andby the guesthouse Adele spotted more Italian police lingering on the steps, ormoving in and out of the smaller home.

“You coming?” Paige grunted, oneleg already through her open door.

Adele inhaled once more, this timeholding the breath and feeling the twisting, unnerving sensation spread. Whatwas happening?

An image flashed across her mind.

The crumpled, frail form of herold mentor, lying in a pool of crimson across from a red leather chair near acooled fireplace. She shivered, closing and opening her eyes like the lens on acamera.

She’d known Robert’s death hadaffected her. But this was her first case back on the job. She couldn’t fallapart, not now. A little bit of unease, a little bit of nervousness was boundto happen. She tried not to let the frustration show and pushed open her ownside of the taxi and slid out onto the cobblestone drive.

“Coming,” she murmured, taking abreath of cool evening air outside Milan.

Sophie Paige was already stridingpurposefully across the drive, toward the guesthouse and the gathered polizia.Adele adjusted her sleeves, brushing a length of blonde hair behind one ear,and then followed close behind, inhaling four seconds, holding, exhaling fourseconds as she walked.

“Agent Paige,” said a voice fromthe doorway of the guesthouse. “And Agent Sharp, I presume?”

A rail thin man with a bony faceand spectacles was standing in the door, looking down at his phone and thenglancing up at each of them in turn as if comparing them to some picture.

“Agent Mariano,” Paige called,taking the lead as Adele tried to catch up.

“Yes, glad to meet you,” theghoulish-looking man said, his French discernible, but clouded by a thickItalian accent.

Paige wrinkled her nose and cameto a halt at the base of the stairs in front of the small guesthouse. A couple ofpolizia moved past her, hefting twin forensic bags and murmuring beneaththeir breaths.

Adele’s Italian wasn’t up toscratch, but she caught a couple of words. “…Blind spot…” and “… tonight…”

The two forensic investigatorsmoved toward the main mansion, still muttering and ignoring the French agents entirely.

Agent Mariano tapped a bony fingeragainst his pale lips, still outlined in the open doorway as he was and clearedhis throat. “Signora Paige,” he said, glancing from his phone to the olderwoman once more. “I was told you’d be arriving an hour—”

“Agent,” Sophie interrupted.

“Mi scusi?”

“Agent Paige is fine, AgentMariano,” she said, testily. “And yes, our flight was briefly delayed.”

“Apologies,” Adele added overSophie’s shoulder.

The older woman ignored this inputand said, still gruff, “What do we know about the victim?”

Mariano raised a crooked eyebrow,stretching his pale skin in strange ways, but then crossed his thin arms acrosshis bony chest and, still standing upright in the doorway, he said, “SignoraGianna Calvetti was on the board of directors for L&L Italia.”

“What’s that?” Adele asked.

The ghoulish-faced man’s gazeshifted slowly like a strand of moonlight in a graveyard, moving from Paige toAdele. “How you say… manufacturing. Industry manufacturing.”

“An Italian manufacturing company?”Adele said, her own voice shaky in her ears, her stomach still twisting. Shefought the urge to flinch, though, and through tight teeth, pressed. “So if shewas on the board of directors of this company, might that have played in themotives of the killing?”

The Italian agent blinked once,thick eyelids falling over bulging eyes. “Possible.”

Paige cleared her throat, steppingforward and, perhaps coincidentally, directly in front of Adele, regainingMariano’s line of sight. “I can’t help but notice the security cameras,” Paigesaid, waving a hand toward the mansion and then toward a couple of fixturesAdele had also spotted on the encircling wall behind the guesthouse. “Do wehave the film?”

“Si. However, nothing wascaught. The killer avoided security cameras. State-of-the-art security system,too. Not a cheap one. And yet, the murderer was careful to avoid them entirely.”

Adele frowned, glancing back at themansion, toward the lenses on the gates. She clicked her tongue, and then,allowing Sophie to stand in front of her regardless, she said, “Maybe that’swhy he chose the guesthouse. There are no blind spots leading up