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Riss stared at her plate as her stomach growled. She realized she hadn’t eaten much yesterday and she was starving. She continued to eat her breakfast and was on her second cup of coffee when Dominick came back into the kitchen.
He looked as pale as Mrs. Munari. “Mrs. Turchetta is fine. I checked on her first. I must however go find Mr. Walker.” Without another word he disappeared into the house.
Riss looked at the housekeeper whose eyebrows had disappeared into her hairline. She turned and swept Riss’s empty plate away and started bustling about the kitchen. A moment later, Cash and Archer hurried through the kitchen out into the back garden led by Dominick. Biscotti followed in their wake.
Riss sat sipping her coffee and looking around. Whatever was going on, it had nothing to do with her or so she told herself. She didn’t want to know whose blood Biscotti had tracked through. The prospect of returning by herself to her room terrified her, so she sat glued to her chair, and cataloged the décor of the kitchen to distract her from her careening thoughts.
The room really was lovely. The counter tops were a gorgeous white with veins of brown and gold running through them. They matched the marble floors and complemented the iron ore cabinets with gold hardware. Plants on the sunny window ledge were thriving. Signboards carved with what she assumed were cute sayings in Italian were hung on the pale gray walls. She had a sign like them in her own kitchen, but hers was mass-produced bought at a local big box store. She was certain the signs in this room were hand carved.
Colorful spines faced out from a bookshelf over the counter next to the fridge. What a brilliant idea, a shelf for recipe books in the kitchen. Biscotti scratched at the door again, and Mrs. Munari opened it for him.
Wait! A bookshelf!
She’d been so focused on not thinking about whatever horrible thing was going on in the garden, she’d missed that there was a bookshelf.
In seconds, she was off her chair and combing the spines for the book. She found The Joy of Cooking on the second shelf. Yes!
She wanted to do a dance of joy. Instead, she reached up and pulled the book down.
“Do you cook?” Mrs. Munari asked while she dampened a paper towel.
“No, but I’ve been thinking of learning. I remember my mother had this one.” She held up the book.
Mrs. Munari nodded absently but she was too busy cleaning Biscotti’s paws. Riss took the book back to her stool and started flipping the pages. The first time through, nothing jumped out at her. She wanted to turn the book upside down and shake it, but she thought that might be too obvious so instead she took her time and flipped through more slowly.
On the page with a brownie recipe, there was a name written in the margin. It looked like the same handwriting as the note she’d found in the secret compartment of Alicia’s box. O'Toole. That was it. Riss went through the book twice more almost page by page but that was the only thing that jumped out at her. So, what the hell did that mean? Who or what was O'Toole?
Dominick came back into the kitchen. Biscotti’s tail wagged wildly, and he whimpered. Dominick sighed as he bent to stroke his pet. The man looked like he’d aged thirty years in the last thirty minutes.
“What is it?” Mrs. Munari asked.
Dominick sat down on a stool next to Riss. “Ms. LeGris is dead. Someone stabbed her and left her to die on the corner bench.”
The world tilted. Riss grabbed the countertop with both hands to keep from sliding off the chair. Vanessa was dead. Someone killed her. Someone broke into Riss’s room. Did they want to kill her too? Was she lucky they tripped and she managed to scream?
“Riss,” a voice said but it was far away. “Riss.”
She looked up to find Cash staring at her. “Are you okay?”
“Um, I…she’s dead?” her voice cracked.
“Yes.” Cash’s jaw was clenched and his pulse was jumping in his temple. He hauled in a breath, then gentled his voice. “Please go back to your room. Biscotti can go with you. I’ll be up in a bit to explain.” He gave her a look that pleaded for her agreement but didn’t wait for a response before disappearing through the kitchen door once again.
Dominick came over and took her by the arm. “It’s okay, Ms. Day. You’ll be fine. Biscotti will keep an eye on you. Mrs. Munari will bring you some tea. How does that sound?”
“Tea?” After her experience with tea last night, it might be years before she’d be brave enough to try the beverage again. “Um. No. How about more coffee?”
He offered a brief smile. “Of course, she’ll make fresh.”
She grabbed the cookbook and Dominick led her quickly through the house to her room and then once she opened the door with her key he hurried in and made sure it was safe. The room had already been cleaned and Biscotti jumped up on the bed turned in a circle and curled up for a nap. “You’re all set. You’ll be fine. Lena will bring fresh coffee as soon as it’s made.” He left, closing the door after him.
Riss bumped her hip on the arm of the chair as she flopped down. She absently rubbed the stinging spot while clutching the book to her chest. O'Toole. How the hell was she going to find out what or who that was? She refused to think about Vanessa or whether her death could possibly have anything to do with Riss. She stared out the window and wished she could go home.
* * *
She jumped when someone knocked on her door. How in the world had she managed to doze off? “Who is it?” she called.
“It’s Cash.”
