“What’s going on?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know.
“Everything is okay,” he said.
Did I detect a hint of gentleness in his tone of voice?
He took a cool compress off my forehead. “Try to sit up and take some of these pain killers. Here, I’ll help you.”
I wasn’t that stupid. “No, not me. I’ll take the pain. You leave me here, go on about your business and pick me up on the way out. I need some sleep.”
Then I was aware of movement in the room, and it dawned on me that there was at least one other person beside me and Zach. Curiosity got the best of me, and I squinted open one eye.
Mr. Bellomo. I’d never seen him, but this guy looked about right. Small, silver hair, decked out in French cuffs, gold cufflinks and gold rimmed glasses. Italian cut suit. A kindly look about him. Was he a member of the Mafia? The photos I had seen of Mafia dons had always looked more New Jersey than this one.
“Do you know where my aunt is?” My eyes were wide open now.
He smiled at me. Good teeth, too.
“You do not have to worry about your aunt. I know where she is. She is safe.”
“But you aren’t saying where she is?”
He shook his head. He looked like the kind of guy you could trust but you didn’t argue with. Funny, but I liked him.
“What about …”
Zach cut me off. “The police talked to Mr. Bellomo yesterday. He knows they’re looking for you.”
I struggled to sit up, deciding it would look better if I did, only to discover that my blouse was buttoned the wrong way and my breasts were trying their best to bulge out through the mismatched button holes. I rearranged things as best I could. My hair fell into my face and felt like I had combed it with an egg beater. I must have looked like a loose woman to Mr. Bellomo. I gazed about me. Everywhere my eyes turned they ran into Italian Rococo. A little fussy for my taste, but it worked here.
“I would be pleased if you spend the night in my home,” Mr. Bellomo said in good English. “You will be safe with me.”
“We have a hotel room,” I said.
“We’d be delighted to accept,” said Zach. “The hotel room can wait.”
I looked at him, annoyed. We hardly knew Mr. Bellomo. “No, really it is kind of you to offer, but we must be going.”
“We’ll stay.”
“In that case,” I smiled to Mr. Bellomo, who was looking back and forth between the two of us, “I’d like my own room. I sleep so much better by myself. That is if you have enough room.” I remembered the palatial look. I wouldn’t be surprised if he overlooked the Mediterranean.
“No,” Zach said. “We’re a couple.” He pointed back and forth between us. “You know, we travel together and always share a room. We wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“Not a problem. I understand completely.” Mr. Bellomo smiled. “I insist that you stay. This arrangement will be much more comfortable for you. In the morning when you feel better, we will talk. You shall have a room overlooking the sea.”
What did I tell you?
I tugged my blouse over my breasts trying to look a bit more presentable. “All right then, I do believe I shall turn in. I have a bad headache, and I’ve been up since the crack of dawn. We did an awful lot of sightseeing today, and I’m exhausted.”
“Of course. I’ll have Luigi show you to your rooms. Rest well.”
Rooms. With an s.
Luigi turned out to be about 6’5”, around three hundred pounds, built like a grizzly bear. He nodded to us. I guessed that was the signal to follow him, which we did, me leaning on Zack.
The floors were marble in the foyer as were the winding stairs we climbed to the second floor. I had never seen so much marble in one place in addition to a few well-placed Roman and Greek statues that I’m sure were the real thing. The stairs spiraled around the most opulent chandelier I’ve ever seen in my life, replete with hundreds of crystal prisms that reflected light into a million colors onto the stairway walls.
“Pretty impressive,” I said to Zach under my breath as we followed Luigi down a long hall.
“A little small for me,” he said and gave me that half grin of his.
I wondered what he was up to and as soon as I got him alone I was going to find out. Like I had ever been successful at that.
The upstairs halls were carpeted down the center with rose and cream Persian carpets. Not Pakistan, not Afghan, nor Chinese but real Persian carpets because they had the more figural patterns produced in Iran than the geometric patterns popular where I came from. I could only imagine what he had tied up in the upstairs carpets alone. That must be some export-import business he had.
Luigi stopped outside a white double door with large, ornate brass handles. He waved his ham of a hand toward the door. I took it to mean here was our room. He opened the door and gave us the hand wave in.
“Chatty,” I said to Zach when Luigi had closed the door behind us.
We heard a click. We were locked in.
“Zach, what’s going on?”
He reached out and pulled me against him.
“Now where were we?” He brushed his lips across mine but I didn’t respond.
“Are you angry?” he asked, working his way around my face with the most exquisitely soft kisses.
“It’s not going to work this time. I want answers. Why did Luigi lock the door? Why are we staying here when we have a perfectly good hotel room? What’s going on?”
He sighed and tugged me along behind him to a huge sectional cream leather sofa, pushed me down and flopped down beside me. He laid his head back and closed his eyes. That’s the first time I’d seen him looking half-way tired.
“Start at the beginning,” I said.
“I can’t,” he said, eyes still closed. “If we ever get out of this mess, I’ll tell you everything.”
“Out of this mess are the key words here. I’m glad you finally admit that we are in a mess. But the important question is — are you in the same mess I am?”
He chuckled, opened his deep brown eyes and looked at me. “Claudie, you are the most extraordinary woman I have ever met.”
“Don’t go trying to flatter me to change the subject because I’m smarter than that.” I frowned. I guess he was flattering me.
“My point exactly,” Zach said, sitting up and taking my hand. “By the way, that is a sexy shirt. I particularly like the button arrangement.”
I looked down at how I had buttoned the shirt. It wasn’t just one button out of alignment, it was two off, and I looked like the town drunk. I sighed and rebuttoned them, Zach watching the operation with intense interest.
“Better?”
He grinned. “As I was saying, you are extraordinary. That performance back in the taxi was A-1. I’ve not seen better on Broadway.”
“Thanks. I thought I got it into it pretty good.”
“Want to continue?” The mischief in his eyes would have done the devil proud.
“I’ll think about it. You haven’t answered my questions.”
He sighed. “All right. Would you believe your aunt is in this house?”
“No.”
“Or at least I think she is. We’re going to look for her as soon as everything quiets down.”
“We are? How? The door’s locked.”
He patted the pocket with the plastic cards. “I’m world class when it comes to opening locked doors. Failing that, there’s always the balcony.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “How could Mr. Bellomo have her in this house?”
“Because he’s the one that sprung her from jail.”
“You’re kidding.” I searched his eyes. “You’re not kidding. How do you know? I mean, how did you figure that out?”
“The way he talked when you were passed out. I know for a fact that Mr. Bellomo deals in antiquities among his many other businesses.”