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My hands tremble as I clasp the side of the boat. Act professional, I tell myself. You’re a police officer, a Commissario with years of experience under your belt. You won’t help Sefi if you fall apart.
We arrive at our destination within minutes. Koffler and I race to the palazzo’s entrance. I tap in the security code and the doors swing open. Up the stairs to the elevator, and my heart is beating so fast my head spins. I lean against the wall, take deep breaths.
Koffler gives me a look that asks if I’m okay.
I nod in response.
We ride up to the top floor and pull on plastic gloves and shoe covers before entering the apartment. A forensics team will arrive shortly, and we must take care not to contaminate the scene. Being a police officer has the advantage that we don’t have to wait twenty-four hours for Sefi to show up. I’m senior enough in the ranks to have been able to pull a few strings and organize this operation without any questions.
I unlock the door and Koffler and I step inside. We search everywhere, but the place is empty, like I knew it would be.
My chest fucking aches.
A buzzing sound comes from my telefonino, and I pull it out of my pocket.
MARCO.
“Sefi isn’t here, amore.” I press my lips together. “Forensics are due to arrive. We’ll soon know if there are any signs of a struggle. Maybe she’s just gone out and we are panicking for nothing…”
I groan to myself.
Sefi wouldn’t do that. Someone has taken her, and I know who that ‘someone’ is.
Fucking Framassi. Stronzo, the Italian word for shithead, doesn’t come close to describing him.* * *Marco and I sit forlornly in the living room after everyone has gone. He visited his parents while Forensics were doing their job. Viviana and Francesco are worried as hell, of course. They love Sefi, treat her like a daughter…
I shift position on the sofa, trying to get my head around what has occurred. The crime scene investigators were quick and efficient. We should have DNA analysis of minute skin and hair particles within the next twenty-four hours. No visible signs of a struggle, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t one. Koffler has assured me he’ll get uniformed officers to ask around the neighborhood to find out if anyone has seen anything. Web cams stream live all down the Grand Canal from different hotels and vantage points. He’ll start checking any recorded videos first thing in the morning… although not all of the operators save what they’ve streamed.
I reach for Marco’s hand. “Would you like me to make us some dinner?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not hungry.”
“Neither am I.” I grimace. “My guts ache too much.”
“Mine too.” He stutters out a breath. “How can Sefi have been taken from here? Only family and people who work for us can get into the palazzo…”
I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “We won’t know if there’s been an intruder until we get the DNA results.”
His gaze darts around the room. “Sefi wouldn’t have gone out without one of us being with her. She just wouldn’t…”
“I know.” I sit back and shoot him a quick glance. “How well do you trust your boatman?”
“You don’t think…?” He squeezes his eyes shut. “He’ll have left traces of his DNA everywhere earlier when he was checking the apartment for Sefi…”
“I’ll interview him first thing.” I put my arm around Marco. “There’s nothing more we can do tonight.”
“I can’t stop thinking about how scared she must be,” he wails. “I wish we’d insisted that she returned to the States.”
He’s voiced my exact thoughts. I take a deep, pained breath and close my eyes. “She didn’t want that, remember.” My voice cracks. “She was adamant that she wouldn’t let Framassi spoil her time here.”
“She trusted us. Trusted us to protect her.” He stares down at his feet.
He’s killing me. Fucking killing me. “I’m so fucking sorry…”
He swivels his gaze and meets my eye. “I love her, Alessio. I fucking love her as much as I love you.” Tears run down his stubbled cheeks.
I lean in and knuckle them away. “I love her too, amore. I love her so fucking much.”
And I do, I realize that now. I wish I’d said something earlier. Both to Marco and to her.
“I was worried you didn’t love her,” his breath hitches on a sob. “I couldn’t bear it if we lost her…”
He’s ripping me into shreds.
“We won’t lose her.” There’s determination in my tone. “I promise you. We. Will. Not. Fucking. Lose. Her.” The pain at the back of my throat is making it difficult to speak.
“Should we call her sister?” He shoots me a look filled with dread.
“I think Sefi would want that.” I pick up my telefonino, then frown. “I don’t have a number for Camila, do you?”
