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She turned all around, looking for a clean space for him to start in. And then she pointed to the vanity—the place where her mother would powder her nose and apply her eye shadow each morning. “Try searching there.”
Enzo nodded and set to work.
Together they worked side by side just like they always had. But did Enzo still consider her as much his sister as he did before the test results? She didn’t know. And she didn’t have the courage to ask. Some things were better left unsaid.
“I’ve got something!” Enzo held up a black leather-bound journal.
“Where was it?”
“There was a secret compartment in the back of one of the drawers. I’m afraid that since I didn’t have the key, I had to break the drawer.”
“Who cares?” She rushed forward and took the journal from him.
She flipped opened the book to a random page, immediately recognizing her mother’s handwriting. At last she would learn the truth.
But would she like what she’d learn?
CHAPTER THREE
IN HIS OFFICE on the small Italian island of Lapri, Riccardo Moretti pressed enter on the computer keyboard. Then he typed the last lines of coding for a cutting-edge predictive algorithm. It would streamline transportation, pointing out inefficiencies as well as suggesting alternatives.
He smiled. If this worked out the way he’d planned, not only would he make a nice tidy profit, but more importantly it would also help reroute food and supplies to those in need. Shipping costs would be minimized and absorbed by transportation companies instead of charitable organizations and private donors. This program could make a fundamental difference in people’s lives.
Buzz. Buzz.
He pressed the intercom button to speak with his assistant. “Yes, Marta.”
“Sir, there’s a woman on the other line. She’s calling about your uncle’s house.”
“My uncle?” Uncle Giuseppe had passed close to a year ago, leaving his entire estate to Ric.
“Yes, sir. It sounds serious.”
Alarm shot through him. He knew possessing a now vacant house might cause some security issues, but he wasn’t ready to part with it. For some reason he wasn’t willing to examine too closely, he had an attachment to the place.
Ric checked his cell phone. There hadn’t been any alerts from the alarm system. How could that be?
Still, he didn’t have time for problems. There were only a couple of hours before his very important business dinner—a meeting that had taken months to arrange. But he couldn’t just ignore this call. “Put her through.”
He’d speak to the woman. Surely it was nothing important. And then he’d be back on track. Everything would work out.
In no time, an older woman came on the phone. “Ric, is that you?”
He smiled, remembering his uncle’s neighbor, the kindly woman who’d offered him cookies still warm from the oven when he was young. “Mrs. Russo?”
“Yes. It’s me. Pardon me for bothering you at the office, but I thought you’d want to know there’s a young woman snooping around your uncle’s house.”
“Is she trying to break in?”
“I don’t think so. But I can’t be sure. She’s moved to the back, and I can’t see her now.”
His office wasn’t far away. “I’ll be right there.”
And with that he ended the call. He rushed to his car, anxious to catch this intruder. He wanted to stop them from doing any damage to his uncle’s estate.
He went to call the police but then hesitated. Calling them would draw media attention, and he’d had more than his share in recent weeks. He’d check out the situation and then decide if the authorities needed to be called in.
In no time, his midnight blue sporty coupe rolled to a stop in front of the house. From the front, nothing looked disturbed.
