Prende
Irun to the mirror hanging in the foyer and fluff out my hair. There are bags under my eyes and I feel older than I look. I would be mistaken for a cleaning person in most neighborhoods with the smock I have over my comfy tracksuit.
Shit.
I take the smock off, run into the kitchen and shove it in a cabinet before I buzz him in.
He’s at my door in record time.
Marchello is here and I look terrible. I’m so tired I could curl up on our tiny rug here in the foyer and just sleep.
However, the minute I heard he’s at my door I get a second wind and decide to put on a pot of coffee.
“Ciao.” He kisses me on both cheeks and a slight aroma of evergreen and sea mist teases my nose.
I secretly breathe him in, he’s so close to me it would be so easy to reach up and wrap my arms around him. . .
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, why?” The urgency in his voice and the late hour causes concern.
He sees it in my face.
“You got what you wanted. Your dad’s murder is being investigated.”
“That’s good. No?”
“Yes and no. It looks like my family is being questioned tonight.
“Not on a Sunday, that’s crazy, they don’t do that.”
“Right? That’s what I said to my brother Sal as he was heading out with his fiancé.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What report did you get that showed the toxicology results?”
“I bribed someone and got my independent testing.”
He chuckles as he follows me inside and I gesture for him to sit in the living room.
“How did you do that?”
“Well, I sat around watching the people with money use the hotel services for elaborate things, I mean, it was like anything they wanted the hotel got. So I thought if money talks, I’ll flash some money around. And it was something that was a hell of a lot more important.”
He leans back in the overstuffed chair, puts his hand to his jaw and draws it down in thought.
“You’re a quick study.”
“A what?” I sit on the sofa next to him.
“You pick up things easily.”
“Maybe.”
“I think we need to go back to the ski resort.”
“What?” I tweak my left eyebrow and skew my grimace to the left.